Reigners Building Collapse: My Own Story

By UbongAbasi Ise _­| Sensor On Monday 12 December 2016

“A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more” – Matthew 2:18

I discovered in the morning of Saturday 10^th December, 2016, precisely around 8.00 a.m, that I’d missed two calls from one unknown caller. As I attempted to return the call, my P-Square’s Bank Alert ringtone came alive in full blast. As I slide the green indicator on my phone’s screen, I recognized the voice was Mr. Etok Okon’s, one of The Sensor Newspaper’s correspondents.

“Hello UbongAbasi, it’s Etok Okon”

“Yes, Mr. Etok, good morning” I greeted.

“Morning… Please help me… I supposed to be at the bishopric consecration of Apostle Akan Weeks at Kilometer I, Uyo Village Road. But it’s obvious that I won’t be able to be there because of something very urgent that has just come up” said Etok.

“I’m sorry, I have a lot…”

“Please UbongAbasi” Mr. Okon interrupted what should have possibly passed for an excuse, “Just go there between nine and ten O’clock…. The Sensor was formally invited to be there; it is a big event. When you reach the venue, endeavour to inform Bishop Ahaziah Umanah, the chairman of the consecration committee about your presence”

“But I have a whole lot of things to do at the moment…” I eventually keyed in after a lull in the conversation. But my colleague would not give me a chance to further press on. I could sense mild frustration in his tone.

One reasonable thought came to me at once: since our media house had to be ably represented and would publish firsthand information, the individual undertakings had to give way for collective aspiration. Hence I became so forborne to make further declining response. Then I said, “Okay I would not guarantee you that I would be there between nine and ten O’clock, but I can only assure you to go to the place before eleven O’clock” I told Etok.

“Okay”, came the reply from the other end of the phone call, “I think it won’t be late by then.” He agreed. We ended the conversation.

I have never felt so disenchanted about attending a particular event lately. But a modicum of enthusiasm came when I learnt that Akwa Ibom State governor, Mr. Udom Emmanuel, and other prominent government officials in the state were bound to the event. I immediately made some readjustments in regards to my task schedule and put my preparations on top gear. I was set to go.

Still, I felt something indescribably ominous. Although the weather in the morning of Saturday 10^th December was fair enough and clement, that gloomy sensation in me was becoming stronger: or, was it because my own father, Ise Jackson Udoumoh, died on 10^th December in 1997, the event that earlier crossed my mind just before Etok’s call? Sincerely speaking, I have strong reservations against every 10^th of December because the event of my father’s demise won’t stop sending reverberating shocks to my mind. Nonetheless, I had to go; I had to be at Reigners’ Church along Uyo Village Road.

At almost 10.30 a.m, I was at the premises of Reigners Bible Church. For once, I was marveled at what I saw as leviathan structure – the church auditorium. I could not figure out immediately what the builders were trying to achieve. From the point I stood, the uncompleted building and its designs looked so avant-garde, and almost incomprehensible. At another moment, I shifted my gaze beyond the main building, and I was fascinated by the pleasant undulating panorama surrounding the church premises, and this looked quite scenic. Few moments later, I watched clerics’ solemn procession into the church auditorium.

However, part one of the event commenced in earnest. I remember I defied an usher’s directive to take a seat at the middle of the building where most seats were unoccupied. I chose my seat carefully behind a classical choir group, close to sound speakers almost near a wide window space by the left. Not too long after I secured myself a seat, the governor of Akwa Ibom State, Mr. Udom Emmanuel entered the church with his entourage that made up of some top government officials. The presence of the governor, indeed, added lustre to the occasion. As Mr. Udom went round to exchange pleasantries with the group of bishops led by Archbishop Elijah Mboho, a beam of pleasure lit my face, just for once. I must say.

At 11:39 a.m. precisely, Mr. Iniobong Nkanang, a chorister, was leading a song for the collection of offering: “Oh Jesus, Obong Ima! Ami mmekop inem inem; ima mfo annem awood oh…” the chorus went on. At this time, I was a bit reclusive because I had to be keenly observing. To me, information matters more than anything else.

Something unimaginable caught my attention. At first, I could not figure out exactly what I’d noticed. But I saw it coming: the whole of roofing structure were descending and approaching the congregation en masse. Out of sheer survival instinct, I made a crazy move I never have thought I could make in any circumstance: I made a quick dash towards the window that suddenly appeared oversized, and I threw myself out and landed with a thud outside, just at the moment the massive roofing structure landed hard on the congregation.   

I stood up with a torn shoe, that is, the one on my left leg. In a moment, when I realized that the fallen roof had settled, I sneaked back into the collapsed building petrified with fear. Just close to where I sat, I was lucky enough to see parts of my phone scattering on the floor, my jotter was there, the programme of the event was close by, and nothing else. I moved with tremendous vigour to see if I could lend a helping hand, but just immediately, my mind was blanked by horror: there were wailings of death; vile, gruesome sights of mutilated bodies with cleft of bones piercing menacingly through the flesh. I was flinched at the sight of blood.

Scores were feared death. Affected children were taken out in numbers. Buses and Toyota hilux that were packed outside the debris were, as I witnessed at a close range, all filled with both dead bodies and injured persons. The security personnel apparently seemed flurried at the sight of the whole mess.  Most victims were permanently trapped, and you need to dismember their bodies to rescue them or wait for construction engineers to bring their machines. I could sense the unendurable pain in the faces of the victims. 

In a while, I thought of what could have befallen the governor because where he sat with his entourage was badly affected. I had seen one of the commissioners, Dr. Iniobong Essien looking miserably devastated, though with no visible sign of injury. I saw works commissioner, Ephraim Inyang-eyen who seated close to the governor, looking so clean except for one small hole made on his trouser. That was when I thought that the governor might be safe anyway.

There was no recorded history of lost of human lives at such alarming scale in Uyo. It is time to put down measures to forestall similar disaster in the future. Government should wake up now: Ministry of Housing and Urban Renewal; Ministry of Land and Town Planning; Uyo Capital City Development (UCCDA), and Akwa Ibom Investment Company (APICO) should review all existing policies on housing in the state.

May the souls of the departed rest in perfect peace.

Yes! I am UbongAbasi Ise. For comment, please send SMS to 08189914609.

©The Sensor Newspaper

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