One hot afternoon after school, eight-year-old Mary and her elder brother, Samuel, were playing a game of Snakes and Ladders in the family sitting room. Sitting next to his children in his favorite chair, Mr. John Bature was reading the day's newspaper. Suddenly he exclaimed, "Oh, no! Not again!"
Mary looked up. "What is it, Daddy?" she asked.
"It says here that the Muslims and Christians are fighting again in Kano, Bauchi, and Kaduna and that many Christians have lost their property and homes during the riot."
"I hope they didn't kill anybody," said Samuel.
"Several Christians were killed," his father sadly replied. "The riot has also reached Zaria," he added.
The news frightened Mary. "Daddy, won't the Muslims come and fight us here?"
"No, my dear, the riots won't get here. We have more Christians than Muslims here in Kafanchan. The Muslims won't dare fight us."
That Friday afternoon, however, when Mary and her friend Arike were going home after school, they noticed small groups of Muslims in their white galabiyas (tunics) and skull caps arguing at street corners in loud voices.
"What are they talking about?" Mary asked Arike.
"Maybe they are just discussing what they heard today at the mosque," Arike replied.
Unknown to the two girls, the crowd was preparing to start a riot. Despite their smaller number in the town, the Muslims were planning to attack the Christians, as their leaders had ordered. In no time, the town's Muslims had poured into the streets chanting war songs. Before long, several churches, shops, and houses belonging to Christians had either been set on fire or looted and destroyed.
As the riot continued, the streets were filled with smoke and the cries of the wounded and the dying. Unable to find their way home in all the confusion, Mary and Arike started crying.
"Help us, somebody please help us," Arike sobbed as the smoke from the burning houses stung their eyes.
" What shall we do? How shall we get home today?" Mary cried. "Please help us, God."
Suddenly they saw some people who were obviously Christians running past them in the direction of the police station. "Let's follow them," Arike shouted, pulling her friend by the hand. As the girls ran, Mary hit her foot against a stone and fell.
"Arike, Arike, please help me," she cried.
Arike ran back and pulled her up. By the time they got to the small police station, the place was already full and the girls had to squeeze themselves among the crowd.
A few minutes later, there was a loud noise from the direction of the market as a new group of armed men took to the streets shouting and running after the Muslims in their galabiyas.
"The Christians are fighting back," somebody shouted. Some of those inside the police station burst into cheers. A few of the youths ran out to join those on the streets who had now started burning mosques and houses belonging to Muslims. As Mary and Arike were wondering what to do, Mary saw the elderly woman who sold fruits at the shop near her parents' house. She, too, was hiding at the station.
When the sounds of the rioting had faded off into another direction, Mary went up to the old woman and asked, "Would you run with me and Arike to my house?"
The woman agreed to try and they all three raced and dodged to Mary's house. Mary's parents were overjoyed. "We had searched everywhere for you," Mrs. Bature sobbed. "Thank God you're safe."
Then Mr. Bature noticed Arike. "Who is this?" he asked.
"She's my friend, Arike. She sits next to me in class," Mary replied. "Her house is far away so I thought she could stay here until everything is clear."
"Where do you live?" Mrs. Bature asked Arike.
"In the staff quarters of Muslim High School," answered Arike. "My parents are teachers there."
"Then you must be a Muslim," Mrs. Bature said.
"Yes, Mummy, she is a Muslim but a very good girl." Mary interrupted, trying to help her friend.
"I'm sorry, Mary, but Arike can't stay here."
"But, Mummy, she's good and she's my friend. She even helped me when I fell while we were running."
"And I say she's a Muslim and that's bad. If they find her with us they might think we kidnapped her. Don't forget that the Christians have started fighting back. If they discover we are protecting Arike we would be in trouble."
"Please, Mummy, please let her stay," Mary begged.
Arike also knelt down begging, "Please, Ma, let me stay, Ma. My house is very far away and they're still fighting in the streets. Don't let them kill me."
"Hmmm .... That's true. Muslim High School is really far away. I wonder if we could. . . " Mrs. Bature started to agree, but she was cut short by her husband. "No, no, no, she's a Muslim. She has to go."
"We can't keep her in the house," Samuel added. "Muslims are wicked. They are our enemies."
"But Samuel, Mummy, Daddy," protested Mary. "In Sunday school our teacher told us that we Christians should love our enemies. And also that we should help anyone who is in trouble."
"No, my dear," Mr. Bature said, shaking his head vigorously. "That girl can't stay here. It's too dangerous."
So it was that with tears streaming down her face, Arike was turned away from Mary's house. The sight of her friend being sent away crying was too much for Mary, and she too broke into tears. As Samuel pushed the reluctant Arike toward the door, an idea suddenly came to Mary.
"Wait, Samuel," she said. "Let me take my book out of her bag." While pretending to remove a book from Arike's bag, Mary whispered to her, "Go to the back door. I'll come and open it for you."
As the Batures' front door closed behind Arike, she was left alone in the street, which by then had grown dark except for the distant lights of burning buildings. The harmattan wind had started blowing and it was very cold. Arike's teeth chattered from fright and the cold. She quickly crept around to the back of the house and hid behind a hibiscus shrub. It seemed like a long, long time before Mary silently opened the kitchen door and let her in. Mary then quietly took Arike to her room, where she hid her under her bed until her parents went to bed.
The following morning while the Bature family was listening to the news on the radio, the announcer mentioned that Muslim High School was among the places completely burnt down during the riots. He added that some of the students and teachers were wounded and killed. Suddenly, Mrs. Bature remembered that Mary's friend Arike lived at the Muslim High School with her parents. "Poor Arike, only God knows what has happened to her."
Mrs. Bature turned to her husband and told him, "I wanted to keep her here, but you refused. That was not Christian-like."
Mr. Bature looked guilty for a moment, then said, "I'm sure she's safe somewhere. Her parents too. I feel it in my bones," he added hopefully.
Mrs. Bature looked worried. She turned to her daughter and said, "Mary, we're sincerely sorry about your friend. It's possible they escaped. Not everybody gets killed in the riots. All the same, I am sorry we turned her away."
But Mary said cheerfully, "Arike is very safe. I only hope her mummy and daddy are safe, too."
When her parents looked baffled, she added, "Last night when I pretended to take my book from her bag I asked Arike to meet me at the back of the house. Later, I let her in, took her to my bedroom, and hid her under my bed till you went to bed."
"Is she still in your bedroom?" her mother asked in astonishment.
"Yes, Mummy."
"Go and bring her and we'll all have breakfast together." Her father added, "Then we'll go and look for her parents, but don't tell her about the radio news. There's no need to worry her unnecessarily." He switched off the radio as Mary ran to her room to fetch Arike. She soon came back with her friend, who looked tired and untidy from hiding under the bed. As the two girls entered the sitting room, both Mr. and Mrs. Bature ran up to Arike and hugged her. "We are so glad to see you're safe," Mrs. Bature said. "We are sorry we turned you out last night."
"Yes, we are really sorry," Mr. Bature added. "Come and have breakfast and then we'll take you to your parents."
At that point, Samuel entered the room and switched on the radio. Before the horrified Batures could do anything, they heard the announcer repeat the news: "Among the schools burnt down was the Muslim High School at Station Road."
"Oh no, that's where my family lived!" Arike shrieked as she heard the news. Despite Mr. and Mrs. Bature's efforts to soothe her, she began to sob.
"Arike, don't cry," said Mr. Bature quickly. "I am sure your family is safe. I will go and bring them here. Samuel, you and Mary play with Arike while I drive down to find them."
"I'll go with you, Mr. Bature. I want to go with you," said Arike. However, Mr. and Mrs. Bature were able to convince Arike so stay behind while Mr. Bature went in search of her family
An hour later, Mary heard the familiar sound of her father's car arriving. Looking out the window, she called to her friend, "Arike, come quickly. Your parents are here." As the girls ran out the door, Arike rushed into her parents' warm embrace.
"Safe, safe, praise be to Allah you are safe," said Arike's father as he lifted her playfully into the air.
"Yes, we are grateful to Allah ... and also to the Batures," said Arike's mother. She gave Mary a hug.
Arike was anxious to know about her brothers and sisters. "How are Jide, Sade, Simi, and Bayo?" she asked.
"They are all waiting at government guest house, where we've been staying since the rioters burnt our house. You'll hear all about it when you get there."
Everyone was quiet for a while. Then Arike's father looked nervously at his watch. "We must go." Turning to the Batures, he said, "Thank you very much for your help. We are very grateful."
"Actually, it's Mary we should all thank. But for her, it wouldn't have ended like this."
Arike was too overcome to say anything to her friend. She hugged Mary and then went off with her parents.
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