By Hussein Adoto
After the palliative distribution tragedy in Nasarawa, I published an article in a national newspaper where I noted that “distribution events, especially those intended to provide aid or relief, tend to draw large crowds, making effective crowd control essential.”
However, the Nasarawa tragedy wasn’t the first. I wrote: “In February, the Nigerian Customs Service had to suspend its sale of seized bags of rice after seven people died at one of its centres in Yaba, Lagos. Some two years ago, 31 people died at a stampede at the King’s Assembly in Rivers State during the distribution of palliatives to church members; seven more were injured.” I wrote that in March this year.
We are now in December and have recorded at least three stampedes in one week. First is the one that consumed 35 kids in Ibadan. On Saturday, another stampede was recorded in Maitama, Abuja, where at least 10 people died trying to get food. In Okija, Anambra state, three people died due to another stampede. They all went for bags of food and returned home in body bags. Sad.
Sadly, worsening poverty has pushed people into desperately hustling for freebies, to the point of getting stampeded. One would expect that in a war zone like Gaza, where more than 100 people were killed and 700 more injured in a stampede in March this year. Yet here in Nigeria, a country not under siege, our outcomes mirror those of a war zone.
How did we get here? This is one of the most trying periods for Nigerians, and I say this as someone who witnessed the pangs of the COVID-19 pandemic and the recession before it. Although we are told this trying time is a phase that will soon pass, it is dragging on for too long, leaving a litany of crushed souls in its wake. The palliative measures, however meagre, are welcome and necessary to ease our sore bowels.
Still, the repeated tragedies that trail these events highlight a deeper negligence that we have normalised. Crowd control has always been our problem in Nigeria, and it doesn’t matter whether the event is a palliative distribution, a political rally, or a concert. We tend to be unruly.
Security officials sometimes shove and cane crowds at political gatherings to make way for VIPs. I saw a video a while ago where a former governor was shoved to make way for the new one. On campuses and in open-air university programmes, the situation is similar. Students shove, push, and tug to no end. It is worse on the days of GNS exams.
Is it not this week that a video of Nigerians crowding aircraft boarding stairs emerged? Even a conference of the Nigerian Bar Association in 2022 ended in chaos as “learned” lawyers scrambled for souvenirs. Now, if we are like that on an average day, how worse can we be when we are poor, hungry, and desperate?
I’m glad the Nigeria Police Force has warned against the unorganised distribution of palliatives. Hopefully, this will tame the gathering of rabid freebie seekers and distributors. It needs to. This cycle of desperation, chaos, and death must end. We can’t keep endangering people in the name of helping them.
Charity organisations should estimate the number of people they can serve and focus only on those people. Budgeting for 500 people while targeting thousands with publicity campaigns is risky, if not criminally negligent. By focusing on a manageable number of beneficiaries, these organisations can distribute their palliatives without dealing with an overwhelming crowd.
Secondly, they should divide the distribution into chunks. They can do this by age, gender, or community. Instead of gathering everyone, young and old, male and female, into one combustible whole, they can divide them into crowds of tens and fifty instead of hundreds and thousands. That way, even if the crowd gets unruly, the outcome won’t be as tragic as it is.
The venue itself must also reflect proper organisation. Hosting hundreds of desperate people in a small, gated space with one or two entry and exit points is a recipe for trouble. Crowds kept in areas without shade, water, and seating will likely devolve into chaos. Therefore, managing these factors will prevent an avoidable tragedy.
Meanwhile, we can’t rely on quick, short-lived palliatives to quench the country’s raging thirst for sustenance. To give Nigerians a modicum of respite, the underlying factors of inflation and underemployment must be addressed immediately.
As desperate times in the country make Nigerians desperate for freebies, we must not allow them to become victims of their desperation. If they don’t see the danger of being unruly, palliative distributors should anticipate and prevent that danger. This starts with treating Nigerians with dignity instead of seeing them merely as a queue to be managed.
Hussein Adoto writes from Ilorin via bellohussein210@gmail.com.
