Letter To Abubakar Shekau

Dear Abubakar Shekau,

Over the last couple of years, you have been declared dead many times. And you have had to refute every one of those obituaries.

As soon as the faux news wafted to you, you would make a video recording, dramatize your invincibility and swear to destroy more lives.

Chadian President, Idris Derby, recently suggested that you have been killed or incapacitated and replaced as Leader of Boko Haram. As usual, you did not ignore the hoax. You released another confutation –an audio clip that bespoke your cowardice.

You contested, ‘’I am alive. I will only die when the time appointed by Allah comes’’.

Like your previous rebuttals, this pushback is not a bid to counter a rumor with truth. The repudiation emanated from timidity. You fear that an unchallenged death wish would somehow acquire lethality and erase you.

Shekau, it’s a shame that you are afraid of death!

You, the head of the death cult. You, who elucidates the glory of martyrdom. You, who sends waves of youths on suicide errands. You, who depopulate markets, schools, churches and mosques.

You are afraid of dying like your minions and your enemy targets. You are even terrified of being reported dead!

We note that your cowardly PR shows you disbelieve your own theology. You are not wedded to the persuasion that the way to indulge ‘’Allah’’ is to be killed while killing others. You are too cowardly to model that suicidal faith to your converts.

If you had believed your perverse gospel that mass killers earn eternal residency in paradise and a harem of seven virgins, you won’t be commanding from the rear. You would be inspiring the columns from the front.

But you are an Adam in perpetual hiding; afraid to expose your nakedness to a soldier’s bullet.

It’s hard to believe you said you won’t die sooner than the divinely appointed hour. That’s announcement of exceptionalism. And it’s a revelation of your ” Allah’s” favoritism.

‘’Allah’’ deigned to fix only your own demise. Others who are not as valuable as can be dispatched anytime. And ‘’Allah’’ licensed you to kill them on ‘’His’’ behalf –at your whim.

‘’Allah’’ exempted you from arbitrary death. ‘’He’’ predetermined your last day. And ‘’He’’ requires you to wait till the time.

How special you are!

You must be ‘’Allah’s’’ most likeable creature. Yes. ‘’Allah’’ requires other terrorists to expire in the violence of their own machination. ‘’He’’ set a different standard for you. ‘’He’’ determined that you would die differently. Not like a common terrorist – like a burst balloon.

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That delusion of “Allah’’ wishes that you have an unforced transition. He wants you to have a quiet departure, a cessation of breath in your sleep.

The most natural quietus any terrorist has ever had!

And you would not defy ‘’Allah’’ by fast-forwarding your death. ‘’Allah’’ would not find a suitable successor for you die young. So you have to hoard yourself while directing the expendables to cast their souls upon the cause. Your destiny is to be the Methuselah of Terror.

Abubakar, you are a fraud!

You are propped up by the foolishness of your followership. Their naiveté prospers you. Their boundless gullibility makes you tick. Their servile submission, their willing of their bodies to your whims, makes you their omnipotent.

Were they a little discerning, they would have recognized that the basis of your inherited mission –the lie that the author of the rich diversity that constitutes the human race, the one who equipped every individual with independent agency, demands universal allegiance to a particular belief system and approves of a purge of deviants–does not make sense.

And if you were a bit realistic, you would discover the apparent futility of chasing the mirage that a streak of suicide bombings would ultimately bend the survivors to your insanity.

Of course, you have proved yourself an adversary to the household of your avowed faith. You deploy death squads to mosques on Fridays. Those muslims read the same holy text you recite. They face the East when they pray. But you still kill them. You murder them as readily as you execute other ‘’infidels’’.

They don’t fit your definition of piety. And you would not convert them. You would kill them and let their death be an undisputable gospel to the bereaved.

Abubakar, you are a fraud.

People naturally wise up when others lose money in a scam. They grow a distrustful carapace to protect themselves from potential exploitation. But you are lucky. Your con game thrives even though it costs people their own souls.

‘’Allah’’ is in your marketing mix. That’s why morons are constantly jockeying to replace those already consumed by your falsehood. The steady supply of them guarantees your pogrom program will endure.

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Abubakar, your constituency is foolishness.

I have always tried to guess what motivates you. What fuels your zeal for mass murder. The tenor your rebuttal provided me a giveaway.

I detect that you are protective of the title of LEADER. You want to remain the head. And you want to be perceived as the irreplaceable head.

Whereas letting President Derby’s conjecture on your life and the headship of Boko Haram’s circulate freely would have misled the anti-Boko Haram coalition and advantaged your group’s operations, your appetite for global recognition as Africa’s demon celebrity forced you into a fundamental blunder.

You would not have us stew in false presumption. You would make certain that the world has the right fact about the Leader of Boko Haram. You would not bear the diversion or dissipation of the acclaim that is due to you.

I surmise that you relish your infamy. You get a sense of significance from the media mentions. The insecure man in you loves the reiteration of the global influence of your evil genius. Loves the fact that President Barack Obama namechecks you as one of this age’s topmost dilemmas.

Your stock would be diminished if the world decidedly ignores you. You bomb us so that our grief can celebrate you. So that we can cry…

Shekau! Shekau! Shekau!

And that makes me want to ask: Was there ever a harmless version of you? Were you born a congenital cannibal? Did you suck breastmilk out of your mother’s bosom or bile? Have you always been a hate-intoxicated sadist? Where is that child who sired the man?

I dream you were once innocent. You used to be another boy in the neighborhood. You were supposed to grow into an Imam. A school teacher. A cattle rearer. A carpenter. A tailor.

The man you have become kidnaps school girls and turns them into sex slaves. The man you have become immolates school boys in their sleep. The man you have become has a reflex to kill.

You kill whoever you can. You cut pregnant women open. You slit throats of people you have never wronged you. Strangers who have never had an opportunity to offend you. You kill anybody that happens to be guilty of being human.

Abubakar, are you exacting vengeance on all humanity for your private disappointment?

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Were you permanently embittered by a secret frustration? Was it a radicalization that developed bloodthirst in you? Did you choose brutality as a shortcut to notoriety? Did you embrace terror to give expression to your aptitude for horror?

Abubakar, when all is quiet at night, do you converse with yourself? Do you hear the Inside Critic judging you? Do you struggle to banish remorse? Do you curse that moment of deflowering, that first act of bloodshed that’s the precursor of your adventure?

Would you retreat, if there will be no reckoning? Would you turn back, if you would not feel shame? Would you rather keep on perpetrating murder than apologize? Have we mistaken you for adamant when you are simply proud and scared?

I won’t ask whether you became so wicked because you are bankrupt of love. I realize you are full of love. You prize yourself dearly. You love your life. You are not a self-hating, otherworldly, suicidal psychopath.

You won’t put yourself in harm’s way. You won’t pursue a jihadist’s abrupt extermination. You mock from the safety of an unknown hideaway.

I have a hunch your self-love also extends to your wives and children. I imagine you have yet to strap a bomb around your daughter and send her forth to explode. The same dread of death that has you hibernating in some rabbit warren must have compelled you to house your family in a comfortable nest, away from danger. You would have them ‘’die only when the time appointed by Allah comes’’.

Abubakar , I hate your being a compulsive killer. But I hate that you are a fake terrorist more.

I predict that you will not ‘’die when the time appointed by Allah comes’’. You will be killed sooner. You will be killed like a beast. And it might be many months after you have rotted before we ascertain your death.

You will not always be here disputing your obituary.

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Emmanuel Uchenna Ugwu

Blogger at EmmaUgwu
Emmanuel Ugwu loves human beings. He thinks for a hobby. He writes for a better Nigeria.



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