REV NORTHCOTT ANDREW OF SWEET MEMORY
20 years ago my Daddy was killed in a riot. Here’s my own version of events in loving memory of Rev. Northcott Andrew.
Waiting
On Tuesday 22nd of February 2000, I waited for my Daddy to pick me up from school. He never did. I was the only one in school that day because G was sick and R was about 5 months old. I really can’t remember how it happened but by midday, BestWay School was almost empty. Pupils and Teachers had run away.
After a while, someone I didn’t know came to pick me up. He told me he was related to one of the people I knew at Church. It wasn’t strange for Church people to come to pick us up from school so I followed him. I don’t even remember if there was a teacher present. I guess the rest of us that didn’t understand what was going on or didn’t know where to run were left to fend for ourselves.
As we walked along Hayin Banki, there was chaos everywhere. People were wailing and running. I think there were dead bodies on the road. I can’t be sure because some memories are too painful to dig up.
We arrived at Dallet Barracks in Kawo. Somehow I am sure it was Dallet Barracks because we walked and there was no way my tiny legs would have taken me to any other one of the barracks. There were loads of people in the barracks, people I didn’t know. I also didn’t know that it would be my home for a few days.
I do not remember how/where I slept or if I ate. I was still in my uniform by the next day and someone from school recognized me. I remember bits and pieces of our conversation. She said something about “reporting me to the headteacher” or something because I was still in my uniform (They always announced during assembly that pupils shouldn’t wear their uniforms at home). I told her to go ahead and report me.
She asked me what I was doing in the barracks. I told her I was waiting for my Daddy. I told her that he went to town. She then told me fights had broken out in town and that people were being killed. She asked about Daddy’s occupation, I told her he was a pastor and I vaguely remember her saying he was probably dead. That was the first time I had an idea of what was going on.
After a day or two, I cannot say exactly, I saw the uncle that came to pick me from school. He told me to come with him. I asked him where we were going. He said something about going home to my mother. I asked him if my Daddy was there too but I don’t remember if he answered. I should have known something was wrong then. I guess I was too young.
We were walking again, we walked from the barracks to GGSS Kawo where my mum, her sisters, my siblings and a military convoy from Uncle Saleh (God bless his soul) were waiting to take us to the Air Force base.
Questions
When we got to the Air Force base I still didn’t see my Daddy, but I wasn’t that worried because I was surrounded by familiar faces from my mum’s family and from Church. Turns out I was not the only one looking for Daddy.
A lot was going on that I didn’t understand. There were a lot of people milling around the house and I didn’t know why. The only thing I understood at a point was that they needed me to find Daddy. I was pulled out of our play sessions on the balcony for different rounds of questioning.
I remember different uncles from Church asking me over and over again if I could remember the shirt Daddy wore that day. He dropped me off at school before he went to town for his meeting so I was kind of the last person to see him.
On Monday evening, Daddy had preached at a women’s meeting of some sort and he was given a pink shirt. I don’t know how I remember this but it is true. I told them that He wore that pink Shirt and a checkered suit. I would later find out years later that I was wrong and he didn’t get the chance to wear that shirt after seeing my mum wearing it. But I was right about the suit. E sure me.
People were already wearing somber faces around. But I think I know the exact day they found my Daddy. I walked into the bathroom and Aunty J was lying in the bathtub, crying. Mummy GG was beside her on the floor of the bathroom, crying. I still didn’t understand it meant that I won’t be seeing him again. I don’t think anybody told me in exact words what happened.
Discovery
I listened in on a lot of adult conversations, I read interviews that my mother and his friends had done and as I grew up, I realized what happened. It was from reading and putting pieces together that I found out that his friends found him at a mass burial site and then gave him a proper burial.
In my snooping around I read from an Interview my mum did with the Voice of the Christian Martyrs that she tried to come to get me from school when she heard there was a riot in town. She left my sick sister with my 5-month-old brother at home, telling her not to open the door for anyone.
She got a bike to take her to my school. On the way, some rioters stopped her and asked her where she was going. She heard them deliberating in their local language on whether to kill her or not. They decided to let her go and told her to go back home. When she got home she found out that my sister opened the door for a Church member that came around to drop off Daddy’s drycleaning.
There was a service sometime in March for Daddy. I remember bits and pieces of that service too. There was a man sent from Daddy’s family to read a letter. G and I wore new dresses and we sat in front of the Church with mummy. I tried to count the number of people there and I remember it being full. There was so much love in the air, pupils from my school came and I remember “When Peace Like a River.”
Good people will be remembered as a blessing, but the wicked will soon be forgotten. — Proverbs 10:7 (GNT)
Rev. Northcott was a good man. Not because he was a pastor or because a lot of people have told me that he was. Sure he was a human and had his flaws and there were many times I didn’t like him. Now that I try to remember I can’t think of a lot of those times. Once he told me he would stone me with his mug because I was not sitting well. And he used to flog G and me a lot, but he was always begging mummy to forgive us when she was punishing us.
I didn’t get a lot of years with him but I am grateful for the few I did and the memories we made. The visits to the dentist, the lunch G and I had with him at Arewa house after R was born ( I think that was the best tuwon chinkafa and egusi I’ve ever had). I remember him putting me on a stool and teaching me how to wash plates. I remember him giving me a treat when I scored 100 on a French test. He used to bathe us and prepare us for school and G and I used to come up with a lot of silly songs to sing while he bathed us. He always apologized to us after flogging “you know you are a good girl” he would say.
Daddy’s Song- Kirk Franklin
Many times I wish I was self-aware enough to go through the motions and understand what was going on when Daddy passed. This means that I am still going through the motions but do the motions ever stop? I listen to this song a lot and I wish I felt what the writer felt when he was writing it.
Many times I try to imagine what my life would look like if Daddy was still here. But I can only imagine. I can’t say I don’t like my life right now but many times I wish he was here. I really do.
Every twenty-second day of February, we remember him. Last year I was too engrossed in my own adulting and I forgot to remember. This year I started my own remembrance from January.
The End
I think some time during the meeting they heard that there was a riot and everybody ran to safety. Rev. Northcott was worried about his baby girl at school and his other babies at home and he said he was going to get his family.
He didn’t make it to us. My Daddy tried to come and pick me up but they stopped him.
I don’t know where he was buried. I hope one of these days someone will take me there. I imagine that I’ll be wearing dark shades and a veil holding hands with my partner like they do in the movies.
I miss you, Daddy. Continue to chill with Jesus.
