The Blessing Palm that Protected
Everything was unusually quiet. We were speeding towards the city of Kano in Nigeria late at night on December 22, 1980. As we entered the city, we saw a crowd in the middle of the main road, about 100 meters away [from us]. We wondered whether they were armed robbers. The Nigerian driver tried to reverse as fast as possible before we could be seen or trapped, but it was too late. The crowd rushed at us, shouting at us to stop. At that moment, I suddenly remembered what I had read in the newspapers earlier that morning: There was widespread disturbance in the city, and a number of people had been killed the previous day.
I immediately told the driver to stop, because opposing the crowd could only cause unpredictable damage to the car and lives. I had a picture of Bhagavan Sri Sathya Sai Baba, along with documents for the motor vehicle and the passport. I took them in my hands. The blessing palm of Bhagavan appeared to infuse some strength into me. Within seconds, we were surrounded by a fully-armed crowd.
Two of them, armed with two heavy iron crowbars, came and stood on either side of the car. Even as they dented the car with their crowbars, an elderly man came toward me, questioning me loudly in both Hausa and in English. However, he suddenly cooled down when I told him that I had come to receive my wife and children who were expected to arrive at the Aminu Kano International Airport the next day. He waved his hands, indicating to the others around the car not to do any further damage.
We started driving slowly only to face yet another crowd at a junction 75 meters away. They stopped us despite signals to the contrary from those who had allowed us to proceed. This group thoroughly searched the trunk of the car.
Then, they cautioned us not to proceed on our journey because they knew that other groups waiting along the roads would not let cars pass. They advised us to go to the Central Hotel or to the Daula Hotel to spend the night. Since these hotels were also far away from that place, an old man volunteered to take us to a safe place. His feet were painted white. We hesitated to give any answer. Without waiting for any reply from us, he simply pushed the driver to one side and took over the wheel. Before we realized what was happening, he turned the car away from the main road, and we were moving into the bushes through narrow lanes and villages.
Finally, the car stopped under a Margosa or Neem tree in front of a Hausa mud house. The man who was driving appeared to be the owner of the house. He got down from the car. Although it was midnight, the area appeared to be fully active and awake. Even children were up and they surrounded the car, curious to find out more about us.
At this point, I opened the documents in my hand, which also had Baba’s picture, and started sending an S.O.S. to Bhagavan. This helped me shut out the frightening thoughts presented by the unexpected train of events. Further, I assured my friend (who was very upset) that Bhagavan Baba was with us and that there was nothing to worry.
In the meantime, the old man went into the house, brought out two floormats and requested us to relax under the tree. We thanked him for the kind gesture, and requested him to give our driver a place to sleep for the night.
Soon afterwards, a man who seemed to command the respect of all the people present there came to us. He spoke a few words with the owner of the house. Then he came straight to us and said: “You appear to be worried. Would you like to spend the rest of the night at the police station?” We gladly accepted, and he offered to take us to the police station himself. He took the passenger seat in the front and asked our driver to take the wheel. Meanwhile, the crowd around us started marching in procession in front of the car, clearing the path for the car to pass.
This procession, which proceeded through the roads in the bush for about a mile, took about 30 minutes. At the police station, the old man introduced us to the armed officer in charge. We greeted the officer and turned around to thank the man who brought us safely up to that place. But the man was nowhere to be seen. In fact, we did not meet him again.
The police officer pointed to a body lying in the dark at a short distance away and said that he had to shoot him only a few minutes back because the man was trying to run despite orders to stop and surrender. It crossed our minds that it could have been our fate, too.
Our driver slept in the officer’s room while we managed to relax inside the car until 6 a.m. next day. We hurried out early in the morning, and were shocked to see burnt cars and charred human bodies, some of which were still burning on the roadside.
The morning papers carried the news of a foreign reporter who was killed by a poisoned arrow on that night. The two dents on the bonnet of my car are there to this day. I treasure them as marks of Bhagavan Sri Sathya Sai Baba’s grace that protected us all through.
~M. Pathmanabhan, Hatfield, U.K.
Source: Sanathana Sarathi, July 1987
