What can we learn when we forget to remember a story that grabbed our hearts? Take, for instance, the story of when the Islamic militant group Boko Haram abducted students in Chibok, Nigeria, on April 14, 2014. I forgot them.
The name of the group, Boko Haram, roughly translates as “Western education forbidden.” The group claims to seek the establishment of an Islamic state in Nigeria.
Until it was reported in late March of this year that a would-be suicide bomber in northern Camaroon identified herself as victim of that kidnapping, I had forgotten. Yet, at the time of the event in 2014, I had written about the girls for The Independent. I had written with passion and angst. Still, with the onset of the next big event on the world stage, or even with the mundane march of everyday life, I had allowed them slip from my consciousness. I own the feeling of shame that I forgot those young girls and will try with every ounce of marrow in my bones not to forget them again. But this isn’t about me.
This is about those girls and their plight and the agony of the family and friends who love them and wake up every morning faced with one more day of not knowing if they are dead or alive.
First, the facts. On the night of April 14, 2014, heavily armed men with their faces concealed broke into the sleeping area of the Chibok boarding school where 276 girls ranging in age from 11 to 15 were in various stages of sleep. The invaders asked first where the boys were. For reasons that are likely cultural, the boys were day students. Only the girls slept at the school. Then the invaders asked where the food was kept. Finally, they herded the girls into waiting trucks telling them that they must co-operate or be executed on the spot.
The trucks were driven out into the dark jungle night, but not before the school compound was set afire. A few girls escaped by jumping from the moving trucks. A few others ran in the chaos of the girls being unloaded and corralled into a large, primitive camp later that night. In all, 219 girls remained in the kidnappers’ possession.
Now, almost exactly two years after the kidnapping, a video has been brought forth by an unnamed person who is close to the ongoing negotiations between the Nigerian government, the governments and aid groups Nigeria has solicited for assistance, and the kidnappers of Boko Haram.
In it, 15 of the girls are shown. They are clad in headscarves and long robes. An off-camera voice asks them for their names and where they were captured. At the end of the video, one of the girls delivers what appears to be a scripted statement in which she pleads with the Nigerian government to save “all” the girls.
A Nigerian official commented afterward on the video that the girls seem to show no evidence of “harsh treatment.” I cannot believe this man’s malevolence. One needs only to look deeply into the eyes of each girl as she says her name. There one can see unbridled terror, unbelievable pain, and the deadening absence of hope.
There are unassailable truths about this story that anyone who has forgotten these girls, even temporarily, must keep both in private and in the public light of awareness. They are truths that are abhorrent to the human spirit that is shared by all of us.
First, these are children. Remember, they ranged in age between 11 and 15 when they were taken. Overnight, they became pawns of a group of thugs who threatened them with rape, sale into slavery, and death. They went from being children to chattels of torture.
Second, these children are girls. They have been abducted by a terrorist group dominated by men whose members see them (and most likely all women) not as human but as currency.
Third, these girl children were seeking an education. They were abducted from their school. One can only assume that they sought an education for reasons similar to what most of us have held during similar pursuits. We want to better ourselves; we seek to bolster and secure our families; we are taken up with the thrill of learning.
And finally, these girls are sisters, daughters, aunts, nieces, and cousins. They were the funny ones, the shy ones, the musical ones, the naughty ones in their families. They had favorite colors, and they had their preferences for foods that they avoided whenever possible. They had the normal childhood fears and childish dreams. They laughed. They cried. They got bored. They had squabbles, and they had moments of incredible tenderness. How do I know, you might ask? Because they are us, and we are them.
So what do we learn when we forget to remember? We learn, I think, just how easy it is to forget. Life comes at us fast and hard. Even without meaning to, we get distracted by it. We lose sight of others, even — or maybe especially — those who suffer in faraway places.
While this might be human nature, it is a tendency we must push against with all our might. Bullies and brutes, like the kidnappers, are counting on our human nature to get the best of us. We will forget.
Or we can vow not to forget.
The reason the video of the girls was released, it seems, is because Boko Haram has figured out that the girls have value, if only as a means to extract something of greater value from the Nigerian government.
I will not forget. I will remember that these girls have a far greater value to their families and friends as human beings.
Because what I’ve learned is it is far too easy to forget than to remember.
RELATED ARTICLES
OPINION: Radical Islam and going forward in the wake of Charlie Hebdo
The anxious monotony of waiting for the next act of terrorism
