By Queen Amina Mohammad
Lagos, Nigeria — September 26, 1992. It was on this day, 25 years ago, that Nigeria was shaken by one of the deadliest air disasters in its military history. A C-130H Hercules aircraft, carrying about 158 officers from various arms of the Armed Forces, took off from Murtala Muhammed Airport, Lagos. Within three minutes, the plane crashed into the swamps of Ejigbo, Lagos, ending all lives on board.
For the families left behind, the tragedy was more than a headline. It was a moment when time stood still. One of the families recalls the day vividly:
“When the news broke on the 9 o’clock Network News, our home fell into sudden silence. Those who understood cried out in anguish. The grief was so heavy it spread like fire, leaving us overwhelmed and broken. At first, we were sad because our mother was sad. But soon, we realised why — the last time we saw our father was the last time we would ever see him again.”
In the days that followed, sympathisers poured into homes across Nigeria. Some sat in silence, offering comfort through presence. Others shared words of encouragement. And there were those whose cries were louder than the bereaved themselves. Eventually, burials were held, sympathisers dispersed, and families were left to face the harsh realities of life without their loved ones.
Grief and the Passage of Time
A quarter of a century later, survivors and families of the fallen reflect not only on their loss but also on their resilience.
“Grief and sorrow did not win,” one family member says. “We learned to laugh again because we had cried too deeply. We learned to value abundance because we once knew want. We learned to treasure life because we had felt the sting of death.”
The tragedy left scars, but it also forged strength. Many acknowledge that grief has a way of blinding people to the blessings they still possess. Yet, through faith and resilience, families of the fallen officers overcame despair.
Remembering the Fallen
The Ejigbo crash remains a national tragedy — not just for the Nigerian Armed Forces but for the nation as a whole. Husbands, fathers, sons, brothers, uncles, and friends were lost, leaving behind grieving wives, children, parents, and siblings.
“In the end, we found victory over grief,” the family reflects. “We lost earthly fathers, but we discovered the presence of a higher Father — ever-sufficient, ever-victorious. RIP Dad, we miss you always.”
As the nation remembers, the story of the Ejigbo crash is not only one of sorrow but also one of resilience, faith, and the power to rise above grief.
•Queen Amina Mohammad lives, and writes from Abuja.