The late Kula Samba
By Andrew Agbese
It’s exactly 27 years today that 24 persons were executed for treason by the Sierra Leonian government of Tejan Kabba via firing squad.
Among the 24 was a lady, Kula Samba, a nurse by training who had served as a minister under the Kabba administration.
It’s possible you may not have heard of her.
Even while tied to the stakes, she spoke no word unlike others who screamed and rained curses on those about to execute them.
After a year of civil strife and mayhem in which the junta that overthrew Kabba tried to hold on to power against the intervention of the Nigeria-led ECOMOG forces, blood became a common sight in Freetown and only little value was attached to life.
By the time ECOMOG or more appropriately Sani Abacha, helped to restore Tejan Kabba, who ran to Nigeria for shelter to power, all his people wanted was revenge.
The mob insisted Kabba must have his sweet revenge on the people accused of being behind his overthrow a year earlier.
Problem is, the circumstances under which some of them were roped into the conspiracy were still not clear when the verdict of death by firing squad was passed on them. The judgment was final. There was no appeal.
Kula was the only female among the 24 sentenced to death.
She was known to many as the Sierra Leonian version of Florence Nightingale- the German nurse-whose dedication to her duties helped reduce the number of deaths among child soldiers.
Kula was known globally for her humanitarian works of rehabilitating child soldiers and helping families pick the pieces of their lives even while the civil strife in her country raged.
She was no accidental medical attendant but one who was intentional about serving humanity.
After graduating from a university in her home country, she struggled and secured an admission for further studies in the US, got a Master’s and a good job as a nurse in tow, but abandoned all that and returned home to serve her fatherland.
She enlisted in the army and wore the rank of a major. She was later appointed a cabinet minister in the Kabba administration.
At the conclusion of trial, when she was named among those to be executed for treason, the reaction was spontaneous: unbelievable.
How could anyone pin a charge that warranted a death sentence on Kula?
The peculiarities of her case; the opaqueness of the trial; the hurried verdict; her gender; past humanitarian works and the severity of the penalty drew sympathy for her from across the globe.
Several petitions and hundreds of appeals followed all interceding for her life to be spared.
If anyone was to die by firing squad, it shouldn’t be Kula the nurse, certainly not one whose works were glaring for all to see and who had dedicated her life in service to humanity.
But the judgement had been passed and the mob wanted to see action.
So she was blindfolded, dragged with 23 other men, tied to the stake and shot in the full glare of a cheering public.
After the first round of shooting that was reported to have lasted more than ten minutes, Kula’s body lied limply on the stakes indicating that life had gone out of her.
She saw no need to fight back.
Sierra Leone did not deserve her, her spirit left with the first flight of bullets, unlike two of her colleagues whose bodies showed some resistance necessitating another round of fire that stilled all the bodies.
The cheering crowd failed to see the irony.
That among those executed was one who had lived for the preservation of life.
A nurse who trained to preserve life, compassionate, kindhearted and more.
But on that day, October 19, 1998, all that failed to resonate with the people.
As she jumped down from the truck that brought them to the execution ground, her last word to her country men and women was silence.
Not for her the rants and curses. Neither did she cry. She did not bow but faced the executioners with uncommon grit.
On this day, one cannot help but remember the Nightingale who had held syringes to preserve life but who was made to face riffles.
A nurse who administered drugs to patients but had bullets administered to her in the most callous manner.
A caregiver who plastered the wounds of others but had no one to treat wounds from the hot leads that traveled at the speed of light through muzzle ripping her body apart.
A humanitarian worker who struggled to preserve the lives of others but whose life was snuffed out in the most gruesome manner.
Rest in peace, Kula.
You were cooler than those who condemned you.
