The Mini-Riot on Flight 637: A True Story

By

Saifullah Galadima

Jeddah, Saudi Arabia

galadima@gmail.com

 

I clutched my boarding pass, air ticket and passport on one hand while my other hand wheeled my hand luggage into the plane. It wasn't that easy. I had to zig-zag, shove, and climb and squeeze my way through an agitating forest of passengers; most of whom were wrestling with individual over-sized hand luggage. The location is an International Airport (somewhere in the Middle East); the destination was Kano, Nigeria en route Accra. With the exception of a few Saudi-based individuals like me and some Muslim pilgrims, most other passengers were either returning Arab expatriates or merchants of different sorts, having gone to involve themselves in the cash-and-carry transactions of Dubai.

 

The crowd was thus a mixture of Lebanese, Egyptians and West Africans notably: Ghanaians, Ivoriens and of course, the quintessential Nigerians, who outsized other nationalities in numbers as well as in the art of commotion and noise-making. Seat number 23-G was destined to be my station for the journey homewards. It was the leftmost seat of the middle column, with two of my fellow countrymen already seated on that middle row. I sat down and began to psyche myself in anticipation of the 5 hour-long trip and the tasteless in-flight lunch that was to come. It was 1:20 PM, everything being equal; we were to take-off in 15 minutes with a schedule to land in Kano sometime before twilight. But everything was not equal.

 

No sooner had I belted myself into my seat than I noticed necks were craning backwards to the rear of the plane. A few passengers in front were half-standing, half-seating, trying to catch a glimpse of the mishap that was obviously occurring somewhere down the aisle. I listened.

 

Hot words were being exchanged, one was softer (obviously a lady) while the other was a deeper, coarser voice that suggested manhood. Due to the accent and the pfization of sentences like " what is your froblem" and "pynd anazer flace to fut ya load" I concluded that the man was a fellow Nigerian Hausa man. The lady's words were punctuated and phonetically accentuated- as is typical of our brothers from the Kingdom of the Ashanti.

 

'Listen, mister, you are jast lacky to be here first. That das nat give you cantrol over any of these cabins abave' The lady implored politely.

 

'And I say you cannot fut ya load in zis oberhead cabin. Go and pynd anazer flace to keep ya bags, haba! What is ya froblem, zis woman?' The man quizzed.

 

I'd always preferred to see Nigerians settle their rivalry with Ghanaians within the constraints provided by a round leather ball, eleven players apiece and 90 minutes of action. I was hence disinterested, but my curiosity tempted me to listen more attentively especially when scuffles started emanating from yonder. It seemed the man (let's call him Mallam Bala) and the lady, (let's call her Miss Kofi) had simultaneously ditched diplomacy and were getting into a contest of the muscular type.

 

'Ip you fut ya bag on tof op mine, wallahi I will srow it down on za ploor!' shrieked Mallam Bala.

 

'And I mast put my hend laggage here. This overhead cabin das nat belong to you. Its for all the passengers on this aeropl…' Miss Kofi cut short her own sentence as she heaved 10 kilogrammes upwards towards the overhead cabin, which Mallam Bala was struggling to clamp shut.

 

'Maa haaza mishkeela? asked a wide-eyed Arab flight attendant standing on the opposite aisle.

'C'mon, Mister, why not let her keep her bag in there?' A voice asked.

'Ah-aaahh, kilon shele?' A Yoruba man pondered aloud.

'Wetin dey happun for dat side?' An Igbo man queried.

'Yaya, mai ya faru ne? What is all the noise…' Another Hausa man joined in.

'Qu'est que C'est Monsieur?

Pourquoi criez-vous, Mademoiselle ? The Ivoriens were not left out.

 

Questions in as many linguistic variables as the multinational crowd permitted began to fly from all corners of the plane.

 

Anyhow, the latest unsuccessful attempt by Miss Kofi to get her bag into the contentious cabin resulted in it being pushed aside. The sheer weight of 10 kilos and gravity collaborated against her natural physique as the handbag swayed side-wards along other closed cabins before crashing unto the shoulders of (let's call her) Mrs. Yetunde, who sat three rows, directly behind me. She'd been busy pampering her face with the modern tools of feminine fashion. The smell of cheap talcum powder in the air suggested that some spilling had occurred.

 

'Ahh! What's all these now? Madam, do you want to break my head? You have scattered my make-up all over my…' Mrs. Yetunde was upset.

 

'I am so sorry'. Declared a tiresome Miss Kofi; as she struggled to retain her bag, her balance and what remained of her feline composure- all at the same time.

 

'This stubborn man wont let keep my bag in the cabin above and it's the only one I can find with some space left in it' she cried.

 

On hearing this, Mrs. Yetunde sympathetically got up from her seat and turned around to face Mallam Bala. Whatever harsh words she was about to emit died prematurely in her oesophagus when she saw the fury on his face.

 

'Subhannallahi..! He Wailed. Wai, wai, wai…is it me you are calling a stubborn man? Look at this senseless thing! Taaaashin hankali…But wallahi ip not por za pact zat I am pasting today, I would hab slapped zat ya dirty mouth'. Mallam Bala was viciously wagging his forefinger at Miss. Kofi who stood aloof, trying to look as un-intimidated as possible.

'Mai ya faruuu?' My neighbour asked loudly across towards Mallam Bala.

 

From the reply he got (in Hausa) it could be deduced that sequel to poor Miss. Kofi's late entry into the plane and her inability to find cabin space for her hand luggage at the rear; she had tried to utilize the space just above Mallam Bala. Apparently, he had his own bag inside already and would not let her put hers over it on the account of its special contents. Fair enough.

 

But what transpired afterwards didn't seem so fair.

 

My neighbour somehow managed to acrobatically jump across two rows of seating, while I remained transfixed in awe of the scenario. Within half-a-blink of an eye, he was standing between the quarrelsome duo, flanked by two other 'mallams' who suddenly appeared from nowhere. No, they did not go there to settle the quarrel. They had all volunteered their physical presence to what appeared to them as a worthy cause. They joined Mallam Bala in aggressively insisting that Miss Kofi could not keep her bag in the cabin, to the point of almost shoving her away from the vicinity. The Ghanaian woman was understandably perplexed and torn between frustration and confusion. She was by now mumbling some unintelligible words in her native Ashanti tongue.

 

Mrs. Yetunde and a couple of Non-Hausa Nigerian gentlemen (Yohanna and Effiong) as well as the lanky Monsieur Coullibally (of Abidjan) were also standing in the narrow aisle by now. They were on Miss. Kofi's side so naturally; a shouting match ensued with a bit of pushing, shoving and swearing here and there. As I looked on, I realized that on a wider scale somewhere in Northern Nigeria, given a few jobless illiterate thugs, sharpened cutlasses and irresponsible community leaders cum politicians- (fermented with economic marginalization and the neo-religious fervour that holds sway therein), the seeds for ethno-religious conflict would have germinated into a bloody crisis very quickly. But this was Flight 637 in a different country and not Northern Nigeria. Thank God!

 

Suffice to say that despite the presence of on-board airline security, the Captain of Flight 637 had to make a personal appearance at the scene of altercation and then make a passionate appeal for calm over the Public Address System. The alternative, he reminded all, was to invite the ever-ready troops of the National Guard to commandeer the plane and restore order…by FORCE!

 

Readers may begin to wonder the moral of this story, if at all it has any.

 

After the dust had settled and Mrs. Kofi was placated with a new location for her hand luggage, my fellow Muslim country men returned to their seats still fuming with 'rage' at her attempt in violate the contents of Mallam Bala's bag. They panted, ranted and chanted for almost two hours into the flight before they were cut short by another citizen. This gentleman got up, (apparently sick of listening to them) saluted the crowd and spoke. Below is an excerpt of his speech:

 

'Assalamu Alaikum my brothers and sisters, Nigerians, Ghanaians, Ivoriens, Egyptians, Lebanese and what have you: I salute you all. Indeed we have had our flight delayed by 55 minutes before taking-off. The Captain has come down here, spoken and reassured all the aggrieved participants of this rather unfortunate incident. I am speaking now simply because I feel the strong need for all of us to understand exactly what happened…and to LEARN from it. Especially the lady involved, Mrs. Kofi. Now, I understand from what Mallam Bala explained that he did not want Mrs. Kofi to put her bag into the same overhead cabin (and over) his own bag. I wonder how many of you know exactly why?

 

Dead silence. Loaded spoons and forks hung half way in the air, as clattering of plastic plates and utensils by hungry passengers subsided in the wake of this million Naira question. No one was sure where he was heading. Mallam Bala and his colleagues were cautiously watching, none said a word. So, the gentleman continued.

 

'Well,' he cleared his throat, 'for those of you who are not Muslims, let me just say that actually, our religion, Islam, forbids us to place objects directly on the Qur'an, which you all know (or have heard of) as our divine revelation from the Almighty. I am convinced that Mrs. Kofi for all intent and purpose did not know of the presence of this holy Book in Mallam Bala's bag and presumably, she appears not to be aware of this special treatment we give our precious Book.

 

Having said that, I would like to tell you a story of an event that occurred during the time of the prophet (pbuh):

As was reported by Anas ibn Maalik, who said: "Whilst we were in the mosque with the Messenger of Allaah (pbuh), a Bedouin Arab came and stood urinating in the mosque. The Companions of the Messenger of Allaah (pbuh) said, 'Stop it! Stop it!' But the Messenger of Allaah (pbuh) said, 'Do not interrupt him; leave him alone.' So they left him until he had finished urinating, then the Messenger of Allaah (pbuh) called him and said to him, 'In these mosques it is not right to do anything like urinating or defecating; they (mosques) are only for remembering Allaah, praying and reading Qur'aan,' or words to that effect. Then he commanded a man who was there to bring a bucket of water and throw it over the (urine), and he did so." ( Saheeh Muslim, no. 285).

 

'This same story was narrated this way by Al-Bukhaari who reported from Abu Hurayrah (may Allaah be pleased with him)':

"A bedouin urinated in the mosque, and the people rushed to beat him. Allah's Apostle ordered them to leave him and pour a bucket or a tumbler (full) of water over the place where he has passed urine. The Prophet then said, "You have been sent to make things easy (for the people) and you have not been sent to make things difficult for them." (Saheeh Bukhari: No. 5733 - Narrated by Abu Huraira).

 

'I don't think I need to delve any further on the lessons obtainable from these hadiths. Let's just say that the prophet (pbuh) as seen from these hadiths, had unique ways of correcting people who transgressed or erred knowingly or unknowingly. By the way, my listeners, we Muslims are enjoined to follow the words and commandments of Allah (in the Qur'an) and the exemplification of these words in the hadiths; which are the sayings and practical deeds of the prophet (pbuh). Hence, every true Muslim thus looks to the prophet's life as a prime model or example.

 

My point is that I am ashamed of the aggressive manner in which my Muslim brothers have treated this Lady. I do not see any evidence to suggest that she knew there was a copy of the Qur'an in his bag or that she wouldn't have cooperated IF Mallam Bala had taken time to explain his motives for not letting her place her bag there. The point also is that he (Mallam Bala) has just lost a big opportunity as a Muslim of enlightening someone of the ways of Islam. We cannot assume that she knows. Even if he thinks she knows, he should remind her first before changing his tactics…'

 

The hairs on the back of my neck were upright as I watched the reaction on the sea of faces. Mallam Bala, looked moodily into outer space and his new-found friends suddenly lost their appetite. By this time, the whole aeroplane was dead quiet, it would seem even the Captain was listening to the speech. The gentleman didn't get a standing ovation when he rested his case and sat down to his meal. But there was this eerie feeling in the atmosphere that lingered for the rest of the journey. People only whispered when they spoke (if at all they spoke); and the flight attendants had to listen hard to take refreshment orders. Indeed there was a new order on Flight 637.

 

In conclusion, this story goes a long way to show the mindset of many Muslims especially in Nigeria today. As I listened to that fellow speak, I remembered a story about a deadly riot that occurred somewhere in the North all because a non-Muslim woman had passed across an area demarcated by Muslim Friday worshippers. Some had argued that she did it intentionally. There were no accounts (it seemed) of anyone calling her politely to explain that even Muslim women would not just cross into that zone at that time. All detailed accounts afterwards were about the rage and carnage that engulfed the unfortunate city for weeks.

 

The challenge before the 21st century Muslim in Nigeria (and perhaps elsewhere) is therefore to go back to the basics or fundamentals of what Islam entails, and what being a Muslim calls for. We need to re-study and practice the teachings and lifestyle of the prophet (pbuh), and then spread the goodwill around. Here was a messenger of Allah, whose earliest enemies converted to Islam simply because they were overwhelmed by his character and modesty and not necessarily his power. I keep wondering how many of us today have motivated a single non-Muslim to convert or even appreciate Islam simply by them admiring our attitudes or lifestyles.

 

We should not be in a hurry to castigate or condemn others especially if they offend us due to ignorance, as exemplified by the urinating Bedouin or by Mrs. Kofi's case. Even if others provoke us intentionally, violence or aggression should be a last resort. That Islam is transcribed literally to mean 'Peace' is not a joke or accident. We need to stage our responses gradually and logically and know who, how and where to take our grievances to. Most Muslims around the world took out their anger over the offensive Danish cartoons through peaceful demonstrations, as well as on Danish embassies and their manufactured products. It is only in Nigeria that ordinary Christians on the streets were maimed and killed over the cartoons. Ironically, Nigeria is one of the very few places where some Christian leaders stood up and condemned those accursed images from Denmark . Yet, that was not pre-emptive enough to send a signal to our failing leaders and street thugs that they empathized with us. Alas, some of us seem to be in too much hurry to display our love for the religion that we are beginning to lose focus of the bigger picture and our primary purpose on earth. Defintely, Allah is with the patient one!

 

In ethno-religious Nigeria of today, push has turned into shove. Some of our compatriots in the South are now practicing tit for tat when it comes to violence and bloodshed...and they seem to be enjoying it! Have we pushed them to the wall with our collective passiveness and indifference towards their safety and welfare in the North? As I write, our Muslim brothers in Onitsha are too scared to venture out of Police or Military barracks. They want guarantees to their safety or safe passage up North. Hmmm. The Igbo's in Bauchi are so pressed that they are now asking for an ' Igbo Village' to relocate to. Haven't we then failed in securing the non-Muslims that live and work amidst us? Do we expect to be safe in the hands of non-Muslims? We need to re-examine how the prophet (pbuh) guaranteed the safety of non-Muslims in his domain. We need to review his ' Manner of Approach' in dealing with erring individuals. We need to re-think and remember that we shall be questioned by Allah (swt) about what we do and what we don't do; down to the level of atomic weighing of our good vs. evil deeds.

 

The world needs to understand our Deen (way of life) now much more than ever. Only then would the world respect us or at least, the Deen. The non-Muslim world and even we (Muslims) need to understand and appreciate that it is actually Islam (as a religion/way of life) that is perfect and NOT the Muslims (as the practitioners or followers). Hence we are not infallible but are actually prone to err. So, we must always learn from past mistakes and make amends where need be. Most surely, we need to show the world the superiority of Islam over and aboard all other systems of livelihood. This we can do by simple everyday practices bordering on truth, justice and love. The Western system of governance is based primarily on Freedom. That is why they are always trying new limits, even to their own detriment as evidenced by societal decay in issues of delinquency and morality. Don't be fazed or amazed if they soon start allowing marriages between men and cats.

 

But even they (Westerners) should know that their so called four sacred freedoms: i.e. freedom of speech and expression, freedom of religion, freedom from want and the freedom from fear are all but a sub-set of the Islamic system that is primarily based upon Justice. This is because when there is justice in any society, everyone will be FREE! Let us start being just today.

Assalamu Alaikum.