Bullet in the Shoulder: My Desperate Escape from the Hussainiyya Killing Fields

By Aliyu Muhammad Gummi

​I am a 36-year-old NCE holder and trader in Zaria. I witnessed the massacre that unfolded on December 12, 2015.

​Around noon, I learned of the growing standoff at Hussainiyya in the Tudun Wada area, where soldiers had been deployed. Advised to rush there, I rode my motorcycle and immediately encountered battle-geared soldiers near PZ. I saw volunteers occupying the Hussainiyya gates while brothers attempted to speak with a senior army officer. I was informed that soldiers had already opened fire and killed people prior to my arrival.

​I watched as determined brothers lay on the road to prevent military vehicles from reaching the compound. At this point, I noticed soldiers were actively videotaping the scene. I immediately sensed a conspiracy—a deceptive military tactic to create a false record to justify their actions. My premonition was instantly confirmed when the camera crew left, and nonstop, indiscriminate gunfire erupted.

​We swiftly evacuated Sheikh Zakzaky’s sons, Sayyid Ali and Sayyid Humaid, to prevent a repeat of the Quds Day tragedy. Remaining on the road, I was forced to lie flat as high-caliber weapons fired for over thirty minutes. It became clear the military invasion was premeditated, as soldiers quickly moved into the polo pitch and toward Hussainiyya, disproving any claim that the attack was merely a response to a blocked convoy.

​From behind a makeshift pavilion, I watched in horror as soldiers executed the brothers and sisters who had lain on the road. I witnessed the murder of Fatima, a young sister and daughter of Alhaji Uncle, who was shot down. Her father rushed to save her but was also shot dead. The soldiers ensured each victim was followed up with a final bullet to the head or chest. The atrocities continued as army vehicles brutally ran over the bodies scattered across the road.

​When soldiers finally spotted me, I ran into the railway station under fire. I stumbled, and a bullet struck my shoulder. Though bleeding severely, I managed to disappear into the station, where hidden brothers aided my escape on a commercial bike and a tricycle, detouring through the city.

​Despite my injury, I pleaded to be taken to the Sheikh’s Gyallesu residence, fearing for his safety, but volunteers insisted on medical care. I was taken to the few remaining medics, received first aid, and was sheltered overnight. The next morning, news arrived that soldiers were searching houses for survivors. Advised to flee Zaria immediately, I traveled to Gusau for surgery.

​On the journey, I saw military checkpoints, tanks, and soldiers shooting our brothers at a checkpoint in Randar Kano. I safely reached Gusau, where a senior movement member ensured I received the necessary surgery. May Allah protect our leader and grant our martyrs peace. Ameen.

Culled from the book "Survivors of the December 2015 Massacre of Shiites in Nigeria: The Unsilenced Voices".