DALORI, Nigeria: Zara and her little brother thought they were finally safe.
After being held captive by Boko Haram for months, they made it to this government camp for thousands of civilians who have fled the militants’ cruelty. But instead of a welcome, residents gathered around, badgering them with questions and glares.
They beat her 10-year-old brother, convinced that anyone who has spent time among the militants, even a young kidnapping victim, could have become a sympathizer, possibly even a suicide bomber.
Zara, in fact, was hiding a dangerous secret strapped to her back: her baby. The child’s father was a Boko Haram fighter who had raped her, but Zara knew the crowd would still doubt her loyalties. So she quickly spun a tale that the militants had killed her husband, leaving her a young, widowed mother.
“If they knew my baby was from an insurgent, they wouldn’t allow us to stay,” said Zara, whose full name was not used, to protect her safety. “They’ll never forget who her father is, just like a leopard never forgets its spots.”
Deep suspicion
In northeastern Nigeria, the years of suffering under Boko Haram have upended the lives of hundreds of thousands of people, stealing something — or everything — from countless families.
Now, a deep suspicion is raging against anyone who has lived alongside the group — even girls who were held hostage, repeatedly raped and left to raise infants fathered by their tormentors.
Much of the anger stems from fear. Boko Haram has used dozens of women and girls - many not even in their teens - as suicide bombers in recent months, killing hundreds of people in attacks on places like markets and schools. Girls have even been sent to blow themselves up in a camp like this one.
Nigeria’s military has made major progress against the militants. Soldiers have been taking back areas that were under Boko Haram control, and the military’s victories have lifted the spirits of Nigerians who are daring to talk about a post-Boko Haram life.
Hopes were raised further last week when one of the more than 200 girls kidnapped from their boarding school in the town of Chibok two years ago was found alive, wandering the forest.
But the discovery also reinforced the lingering trauma facing former hostages: She was carrying an infant, accompanied by a man who claimed to be her husband and an escaped captive himself. The military said the man was actually a suspected Boko Haram fighter.
As thousands of freed captives pour into the camps, a rift has developed between two classes of victims: the people who managed to evade the group’s clutches, and those who did not.
“I will never trust them,” said Adamu Eisa, a market vendor, referring to anyone who had been held by Boko Haram. “The government should detain them for the rest of their lives.”
Even the missing schoolgirls, whose abduction helped rally the country against Boko Haram and focus international attention on the plight of Nigeria’s victims, are not immune to the suspicion.
At a recent meeting with camp dwellers, aid workers said that one man even insisted that the parents of the missing schoolgirls reject their own daughters if they turn up.
“We’ve discovered some extreme views,” said Mohammed Ngubdo Hassan, executive director of the Herwa Community Development Initiative in Maiduguri.
‘Child of the enemy’
Typically, when Boko Haram fighters overtake a village, they kill many of the young men and boys who refuse to join their ranks. Women are often forced to cook for the fighters or are even trained to become suicide bombers.
Some women and girls, like Zara, are forced into what the group calls “marriages.” As in many conflicts in which rape becomes a weapon of war, the hostages sometimes bear the children of the fighters.
These victims now face intense stigma, and in some cases brutal beatings, when they return to their communities, according to humanitarian groups. A recent Unicef report documented the distrust, quoting a community leader who called the babies fathered by fighters “hyenas among dogs.”
“Some people will not accept a child of their enemy,” said Abba Aji Kalli, a state coordinator for the Civilian Joint Task Force, a volunteer group that fights Boko Haram.
At one of the camps, Hazida Ali seethed at the mention of anyone who had become a Boko Haram “wife,” as the women forced into marriages are often called.
“All those women who lived with Boko Haram are also Boko Haram soldiers,” Ali said. “The military should not make the mistake of releasing them. If they can’t execute them, they should figure out what to do with them.”
“They should not be allowed to live alongside those who suffered,” Ali added.
— New York Times
News Service
