Horror in Minna, Sinophobia in Lagos?

The god of fortune dispensed tragedy the other day in Niger State when 37 illegal miners in the custody of the Nigerian Security and Civil Defence Corps (NSCDC) were found dead within 24 hours of their incarceration. The age range of most of the dead was put at between 14 and 18 years. At least one victim was seven years old!

The NSCDC’s commandant in Niger State, Suberu Aniviye, in an infantile reaction, first attributed the horrendous loss of human lives on this horrific scale to a “sudden disease outbreak”. One couldn’t help thinking that whoever could conjure up such a sick alibi ought to have his thinking faculty fumigated, dry-cleaned and recalibrated.

Crisis Mismanagement

Tagging the simultaneous death of dozens of Nigerians in a single night in the same holding facility as the result of an unnamed disease betrays a level of ignorance that renders the particular person unfit for crisis communication. Pathogens do not discriminate by custodial boundaries, nor do they typically strike down scores of individuals in a matter of hours without prior warning.

The insensitivity of the “sudden disease” narrative becomes even more stark when juxtaposed against testimonies from those who survived the detention facility. Reports indicating that dozens of men were crammed into unventilated, overcrowded cells point toward a far more recognisable human crisis: severe overcrowding, extreme heat, and acute respiratory distress.

When official statements favour speculative medical theories over the immediate testimony of survivors who recall scrambling for oxygen, the state demonstrates a dismissive posture toward the lived experience of its citizens. It trivialises the suffering of the victims in their final hours.

We have been at this juncture before. Forty-six years ago, on February 29, 1980, the police arrested 68 suspects for wandering and loitering in some parts of Lagos. They all pleaded not guilty at the Igbosere Magistrate’s Court. The suspects were sardine-packed in a Black Maria lorry for hours as the police and court officials perfected documents for their remand. By the time the vehicle got to the prison, most of its occupants were unconscious. Eventually, 50 of the suspects were confirmed dead.

Underlying the dismissive attribution in the latest incident in Minna is our pervasive culture of penal indifference. Individuals held in state custody, particularly those arrested under broad sweeps targeting informal sectors like mining, are often stripped of their humanity and public voice before trial. Suspects are treated worse than convicts. In many cases, they are regarded as non-persons.

Pr-Gone-Wrong

Denying the possibility of structural failure signals to grieving families that their relatives’ lives were unworthy of a thorough, self-critical investigation. When 33 lives end abruptly in a cell, the primary response must be transparent self-scrutiny, independent forensic investigation, and immediate structural reform—not puerile public relations damage control. As a public relations practitioner of several decades standing, I am ashamed at what passes for crisis management in some otherwise sensitive quarters.

The suspension of the NSCDC commander in the state is a good start toward getting to the bottom of what happened. We must now set up a grand inquest to forensically examine all the facts, ensuring that those found culpable are punished, and processes are put in place to ensure that this kind of mass homicide is not possible in the future.

We wouldn’t have learnt anything if we didn’t seize this opportunity to re-humanise the system as it pertains to personnel and facilities. It is impossible to watch the video clip of the victims, as most of them lay spread-eagled on the floor—and not shed a tear or two. May their death exorcise our system of the sin of treating poverty as a crime and the poor as guilty until ransomed by the rich.

Sinophobia?

After the well-advertised Afrophobic predilections of Black South Africans, I won’t play the ostrich and ignore any such development in my backyard in this land of the happiest people on Planet Earth. When I heard chants of “China must go!” orchestrated by Nigerian traders at the Auto Spare Parts and Machinery Dealers Association (ASPAMDA) market within the Lagos Trade Fair Complex, my mind flashed back to the terrible scenes that played out in South Africa only a few months ago.

Could we be suffering from a not-too-ancient ailment known as Sinophobia?

The Cambridge Dictionary defines Sinophobia as “a fear or dislike of China, or its people or culture. Other sources which address the sociology of the problem explain that Sinophobia includes negative attitudes, cultural stereotyping, and systemic discrimination against people of Chinese descent or anyone perceived to be Chinese. These attitudes manifest in various ways, from everyday microaggressions, verbal harassment, and online scapegoating to physical violence and exclusionary policies. Remember how China was the whipping boy during COVID-19?

At the heart of the ASPAMDA protest is an anxiety regarding market distortion. The protesting traders’ primary complaint is that foreign (Chinese) manufacturers have bypassed the traditional hierarchy of manufacturers, wholesalers and retailers to delve into direct retail to local consumers.

Local business owners argue that unchecked foreign participation in retail threatens indigenous livelihoods, starves the local middle tier of the supply chain, and transfers wealth entirely away from the domestic economy.

However, critics of the protest point out a harsh domestic reality—many local traders have historically maintained inflated profit margins. In an economy squeezed by inflation and diminished purchasing power, everyday consumers naturally gravitate toward cheaper alternatives. From a free-market standpoint, foreign competition can drive down hyper-inflated prices, forcing a recalibration of how local businesses source and price goods.

Some of the complaints against the Chinese also looked suspiciously like carbon copies of the allegations against Nigerian traders in South African markets and malls in the mobilisation towards violent assault on Nigerian-owned businesses recently.

Symbiotic

Many analysts pointed out that there is a large community of Nigerian petty businessmen, middlemen and merchants living happily in China and that the Sinophobic protest would only hurt Nigerians at the other end more than it could ever harm Chinese nationals living in Nigeria.

I saw the Chinese entry into our local commerce coming. In my article of December 23, 2024, titled “The Chinese Armada”, I predicted as follows: “Very soon, Chinese boys and girls will be selling pure water on our highways. Many of them will out-sprint our own hawkers, and there will be messy street fights. Write down that prediction and remember to acknowledge my copyright to that prophecy when it comes to pass.”

Now, it is happening. Our reaction shouldn’t be one of hostility. As long as the Chinese are not smuggling what we can manufacture locally, nor are they engaged in illegal mining and criminality, they are more tolerable and tameable than our slave masters of yore.

It ought to be a symbiotic—not adversarial—relationship.

We should, as a matter of deliberate policy, avoid rowdy protests targeting foreigners and giving the impression that, whereas we want to benefit from emigration to other countries, we don’t want other nationals in our local economic space.

If a Chinese trader breaches Nigerian law, take him to court. Self help can only lead to self destruct. Big time!