How I survived Asaba massacre –Archbishop Chukwuma

The Archbishop, Enugu Anglican Province and Bishop of Enugu Diocese, Most Rev. Emmanuel Olisa Chukwuma is one of the very few that came face to face with death during the civil war but was miraculously saved by God during the Asaba massacre.

In this exclusive interview with Saturday Sun, Archbishop Chukwuma whose 66th birthday coincided with the 50th anniversary of the end of the Nigeria/Biafra civil war on Wednesday, January 15, narrated how his speaking of Yoruba language saved him from being wasted by the bullets of the Nigerian soldiers.

He regretted that the civil war seemed not to have taught Nigeria any lesson and warned the leadership of the country to look carefully and see that those things that caused the war over five decades ago are still much around in the country now. He spoke to GEOFFREY ANYANWU.

May we start by saying happy birthday to you Sir, how old are you and how do you feel today?

I thank God today, I am celebrating my 66 years sojourn on earth, incidentally it falls on the 15th of January, the date we celebrate this year, the end of the Biafra civil war. I feel very much emotional about it but thankful to God that we are alive after 50 years of the Nigerian-Biafra civil war, that we are at peace and at this my 66th  year of birth, I am also an Archbishop in the vineyard of God and alive, having suffered even the civil war and God brought me out to be what I am today.

Can you share with us your experiences during the civil war?

Well, that civil war started and no one could say initially what was the problem because we found that the whole thing started from the north where many of our Igbo people were killed, either that they hung their heads or have their legs chopped off and they were bringing them down to the east. We never knew it will grow from there because after the coup that took place in Ibadan, Lagos and other places and the disagreement between Odumegwu Ojukwu and others and Biafra was born and there was battle up to Ore and that of Ore was serious, we never knew it was going to come down and it was like the whole Nigeria against the South East, the Biafra people.

My own experience was that I was stuck in Asaba where I was born and by the grace of God experienced the war, we knew how the Biafra people were chased, when they passed through Asaba, they broke the Niger Bridge; [so] it was difficult for the Nigerian troop to pass and they were more or less caught up in Asaba.

My experience was that when they asked us to come out to sing One Nigeria, we came out and were singing opposite the present day Grand Hotel; that was where we were gathered and after that we were led to a place called Ogbesowe where they now separated the women from the men. I was among the men, that time I was about 13 years old or so and they thought that all of us were Biafra soldiers. The first thing they did was turning it into genocide in which many of our men were shot  and killed. By the grace of God I was able to escape by falling down and corpses falling on me. While that was on, I was crawling out in the night when one of them said “who goes there” and I was speaking Yoruba because I understood Yoruba and luckily the officer was a Yoruba man and he took me out and rescued me to the women side, from there in the night we were asked to pass through those people that were lying dead and we escaped into the village at Ibuzo side, specifically at Achalla and from there by the grace of God I was able to find my way back to my father’s official residence in Akure where he was praying that if God will deliver me from the civil war, he will offer me to the ministry of the church.

But I will say that it was a very fearful thing because many a times when we were in the bush, we saw the shelling falling down many places, our houses were destroyed, burnt, many property stolen and a lot of things were done. We found out that most of those people that really dealt with us were from Gongola, from Benue and that is why sometimes I feel that the blood of the innocent are dealing with the people in the North East and Benue because of the blood of the innocent that were shed at that time. So, it was a very terrible experience, we saw our brothers slaughtered for no reason, it was genocide and we will never forget that experience. So, I think the effect of the civil war for those of us who experienced it is still part of us and that’s why sometimes some of us get very much aggressive about what is happening today in Nigeria when you say to keep Nigeria one is a task that has to be done and blood were shed, people died and a lot of property destroyed. We never knew we could come back to what we are today and still finding things the way they are today with marginalization, with inequity and injustices going on. We just feel that probably that war has not taught us any lesson and I feel so bad about it.

When the war ended 50 years ago, it was said that there was no victor, no vanquished, but looking at what is happening in Nigeria today, is that a reality?

No, with the bitterness that is going on right now, I don’t think that there’s anything like that because if the present government led by President Muhammadu Buhari knew, while talking about reconciliation, reconstruction and all that, they should be able to talk about how to really pacify those who suffered during the civil war. We have not seen anybody pacify us now because you find out that in the South East, in Asaba, there is no federal presence there. There is no federal university in Asaba; there is nothing at all to say you compensate people or probably to mourn and say sorry for those who were killed at that time.

What we see today is marginalization, inequity, bitterness and segregation, so one is not happy with what’s happening now, one feels that if we are going to be one Nigeria then there shall be equity and justice and people should feel at home wherever they are in Nigeria and know that wherever you are you are a Nigerian and you must feel free to exist there, there must be no discrimination at all. So that is what I feel today and with what is happening with our democracy, although for 20 years now, we have enjoyed free and peaceful democracy, but you can see that there is a lot of squandering and a lot of resources being wasted, there is no judicious use of our resources and that is why we have not got much even development rather you find much of hardship. People are suffering these days, since after the civil war people remain unemployed, morality is on the decline, and crime is on the increase.

Some issues brought about disagreement that culminated into the civil war; looking at the present day Nigeria, do you have fears that those things are still with us and might cause another trouble if care is not taken?

Yes, you see the way things are going with insecurity going on now and irresponsibility of leadership; now the President said our borders should be open for foreigners, [that] is another way of opening our country to danger. And with all these herdsmen, with violence here and there, Boko Haram and the killings here and there, can cause war. That is why we feel that Nigeria as it is now needs peace if we are going to progress and succeed.

Fifty years after the civil war, what is the way forward?

Nigeria has enjoyed peace again after 50 years of the Nigerian civil war but there is still internal war here and there. The communal clashes are still there, what I think Nigeria should do now is that government should look into a serious strategy of providing security for the lives of people and not exposing them to danger. Take for example, the herdsmen, although it’s going down a bit now, the President ought to have declared them as terrorists but they left them to commit a lot of harm and there is still a lot of kidnapping going on, a lot of wars going on, people killing people and Boko Haram festering.

Unemployment is also creating problems, people graduate without jobs, the youths are getting restless and again you are bringing too much tax on industries and places, when there is no avenue to employ people, then there is problem, so government should also look into a way of improving entrepreneurship, many universities are being approved but nobody is talking about the workforce; how would they be employed and when they are not employed they are frustrated. Then the minimum wage, again the civil servants have to be encouraged, because many of them are frustrated. Right now the cost of living is high, the income is less than the expenditure, these are things the government should look into. Most of them in government and politics are very comfortable, nobody is talking about the poor people, they should be serious and sensitivity to the needs of the poor people and if that is addressed, poverty in our land will be eradicated. Hunger is too much; this again should be looked into.

BIAFRA : Biafra: Day Ojukwu shed tears –Onubogu, Ex-ADC

Obi Udezue Onubogu was a young police officer when hostilities broke out leading to the declaration of Republic of Biafra by the then Governor of Eastern region, Col. Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu. He became security officer to the defunct Biafra head of state until the few days to the end of the war when he joined Ojukwu in the flight to exile in Ivory Coast.

Now, archbishop at the Rock Family Church, Rock Cathedral, Enugu, Onubogu, who recently turned 80, in this detailed interview with MAGNUS EZE in Enugu, speaks on the war, life in exile, most trying moments, his relationship with Ojukwu and how to avoid another civil war.

What was it like when you heard that the war had ended?

You know my position was a very special position; I was the security officer and working with the ADCs, police, army, naval ADCs. We were the closely packaged people around the head of state. Around that time, a lot of meetings were going on. We were at Nnewi having withdrawn from Umuahia, from Etiti, from those places we used as camps and gone home to his private house. We had lived in elementary schools towards the ending of the war but at this time we moved to Nnewi,  a busy commercial town of Biafra and because of the war, it did shrink the land so to say, a crowd of people gathered around Nnewi. So, people were coming in and consulting; military officers, politician were coming in, groups of people were coming in and we were bothered with security; just security. And many of us didn’t know what the situation as regards the war at that time was.

I happened to be one of the privileged people that got to know eventually at the last minute. So, it wasn’t a general thing, many people didn’t know that the fronts had broken down and the end war fast approaching. It wasn’t announced but what happened to us was that we were told that we had to leave. I was called in as a security officer and told that the end was in sight and that we had to leave and next sentence, which the Biafra Head of State said directly to me was, ‘will you come with me?’

I was shocked because I immediately thought about my parents, my siblings. I knew where they were hiding but how could I leave my parents being the first son? So, I said to him yes, I would come with you to go on with what I believed I was raised to do, but I had to go and know what was happening to my family and parents; my father was just about 10 km away from Nnewi. And he said ok; besides, I was already engaged to his first cousin. I told him that I will come on two conditions: I’ll let my father know what was happening and the decision I was taking and ask for his permission; that’s if he says no, I’ll try to prevail on him to let me go. Number two condition I said was that I have someone I’m engaged to; could she come with me if I decide to come with you? Then he had a big laugh and said to me ‘Who’re you engaged to, are you not engaged to my cousin, do you think you have more control over her than me? Alright, go and see your parents and come back.’

So, I rushed and saw my father; my mother was in another location. My father said “Wow! It’s better that you go, at least we’ll be sure of one survivor. We don’t know what will befall us in this place.’ He tried to know more, and I said I can’t tell you more other than things are really bad; we want to remove ourselves; the leader wants to remove himself so that he won’t cause destruction of our people, that if the Nigerian authority hear that he’s no more there, they’ll not come to Nnewi to try to say they’re looking for him. My dad said Ok and good, he didn’t pray for me as such but he just released me to go. I quickly came back to the base and then I told the head of state that my father had released me and he said ok; action, let’s get things done. I went into action again, briefed my fiancée and took instruction and began to pack his very sensitive materials, his personal property, even down to his camera and things like his essential private documents. We packed all that and it was about 6:30 in the evening and more commanders began to arrive and it happened around this period that we knew that something serious had really happened. We were not in the meeting. We were out there receiving and ushering them in; it was no more go see him, come out and another person would go in. This time, they were all staying together. Of course, there were little talks and gossips around us the security people. The thing went out that the end of the struggle was very close and so we packed up and at about one hour later, by 8:00 pm, it was dark already, the signal came that we had to pack up. Most of the escorts, they didn’t know what was happening, even the domestic staff. We packed up and headed to Uga; you know that there were two airstrips in Biafra, in Uga and Uli. Uga wasn’t very far, maybe about 30 minutes or so. On the road, we saw people moving; some moving in the opposite direction, there wasn’t really an organized movement; you’d be wondering what are these people doing, where are they going? Some were going forward, some were going backward and so on. But we got to Uga and parked and stayed for nearly 10 minutes and then we received another signal that location for the landing of the plane had been changed. We were called to return back to Uli. Uli was again like coming back to Nnewi. We did that and when we got there; it was quite interesting; the plane was already there and field commanders, about five of them were there when we arrived.

So, they immediately took the General to one corner and they were in deep conversation. We also tried to load what we packed. Some of the striking things that happened were that we found out the box we packed was too wide to enter through the aircraft. So, we had to open the box and physically bring the items out one by one into smaller containers inside. They were still talking and it turned out that the guards around already had a wind of the actual situation. I think I mentioned that in my book; some of them had entered the aircraft and sat at the rear with their guns. We were packing; they left us and one of the attendants came to tell me and the rest of the security that armed men were seated in the aircraft and it was dangerous; do you know their mission, you don’t know who they were, no identification.  I went there and called them; they knew me by name, they called me Obi; what are you people doing, do you think you can run away and leave us in this place?  We’re going to blow this aircraft here as soon as all of you enter and we’ll all die here. So, I told them not to do that; I said who’s the target, is it me or the head of state? Hasn’t he sacrificed enough for you; what is the meaning of this; I began to speak to them in Igbo. I told them that nobody was running away, that the head of state was going to broker peace and dialogue not for him to remain for everybody to be killed. Then, we talked and talked and talked and they were adamant. Someone said to me, go and report them to the General, but I said no, I wouldn’t report to avoid escalating the situation. Eventually, I said to them: “Tell me what I’ll do for you; what you want, I’ll do. Ask me.” They said, “you know when you fly out, we would start suffering. So, we need money and food to sustain ourselves.” I told them that I couldn’t give money because we hadn’t money, “but if it was food, we’ll give you the food store––stockfish, milk, garri and others, all in abundance there.” That I would just give them note and they would have enough. They said, ‘Obi, you know we know you; if it doesn’t work we won’t be happy.” I said no problem. We signed the thing and they left. I came back and announced that we were ready, the aircraft was ready for boarding. We came up, very few people, himself, his wife Njideka, and few officers; myself, my wife to be and one or two assistants. No seat in the aircraft; everybody sat on the floor, the door closed, we taxied and we took-off. We flew to Abidjan. We flew through Lagos; when we were flying over Lagos, the pilot announced that we were flying over the city and that everything was ok.

So, where did the flight come from?

It was a regular flight that brought relief materials; a regular flight that carried luggage, stockfish, food and stuff, it’s a cargo flight but we went to Abidjan. We were met at the airport and given VIP treatment; cars quickly took us to a special area called Kokodi, it’s like Victoria Island of Lagos, that’s where we were. That’s our first leg of movement.

What was life in exile like?

That place we landed was the capital city; we didn’t see it. It was huge, it had buildings, tall skyscrapers and had the presence of white people that live there; you see them in the streets, you see them on motorbikes but a few days later; we moved to the so-called village of the President of Ivory Coast, Houphouet-Boigny in Yamoussoukro and we were given three villas; they called them villas, huge building. Our leader stayed in one; one was a general place, and another was a small place where three of us lived. Asking about what life in exile was, I had never been on exile; I never lived outside Nigeria except visiting UK, US in the early days of my life. But this time, to be in a foreign country where you didn’t understand the language, everybody was foreign to you, it was something else. They treated us so well that we got bored receiving good things from them; the bedding was good, all air-conditioned; meals came from the kitchen of the president. We had kitchen but we never cooked; every meal from breakfast to dinner was ferried over from the presidential palace opposite our villa to us. Breakfast was brought set, lunch was brought set and dinner was every day with extra things. Each one of us was entitled to two bottles of whisky a week; four bottles of champagne a week and four bottles of red wine and four bottles of white wine. They taught us that when you’re eating fish, you drank white wine but if you’re eating meat, you eat that with red wine. So, we were learning new culture; we were learning to speak French we picked on the street. Then I learnt French through international method of learning foreign languages by repetition; get the cassette playing every 24hours as long as I’m awake.

After a while, I was able to go to town––I was the first among us to be able to communicate with the people––go to market, pick a taxi and all that. The food was so good that all we suffered there was constipation; before you could need another set of food, it’s arrived, apples a few hours from France, apple harvested the same day and flown down to us, the same day grapes and such fruits.

So, you settled down and started receiving visitors?

It wasn’t that early. We settled down. Some people came early; people that came to express their regrets about what happened from Nigeria, old friends of Ikemba, I didn’t know them. I met them at airport and brought them a long way from the airport to Yamoussoukro, but how they greeted themselves, they were from the north, all of them old friends. And other people came; Ndigbo from Gabon, London, New York, they came to know how he was taken care of and that was it. Personally, my relatives were calling; they wanted to know if they’d come, I said no. We just talked on the phone and life was ordered by quietness; a time of reflection, discussion and spiced with games, playing table tennis and lawn tennis with the locals and some French people who were working in construction firms there.

It was a long period in Ivory Coast. What other things did you do?

Yes, I got married, wedded my wife in Ivory Coast. It’s a unique wedding; no guests, nobody; only two of us. I dressed her, I combed her hair; I styled her hair. I still have the pictures. We went to the registry and we came back to the house. The president had sent food thinking that people were coming. Nobody came. We ate and returned the rest. Of course, we had relatives in close-by town called Boaki and they later came. But as time went on, there was need for us to be engaged in something. We’re Igbo, you know Igbo people, they struggle. I felt that we couldn’t be receiving food and drinks; we must be doing something to earn money. So I told Ikemba, and he floated a transport company; it’s not very well known by our people but since his father was in that thing, it came up to him. They registered a company called Le Phoenix Africaine and I became the Acting General Manager. We had four trailers to start with and we were hauling cements from Abidjan to up north, the construction firms where they were building housing estates. We were doing that until a British man was employed to be the General Manager. We built locally constructed quarries where we produced granites and washed gravels and sold. It expanded; I think we made money and he took loans to increase the fleet. My duties essentially were of general purpose, running round and taking care of security, visited Abidjan and collected mails; interacted with government officials and see to their wellbeing. Already, in front of our house was about three large lakes and these lakes contained very large and wild crocodiles and one of the pastimes of Houphouet-Boigny was to invite a head of state to the bank of one of the large lakes and call out one of the biggest crocodiles to come and they would obey him. He normally joked and said; ‘Greet a great man from the nation of Biafra’ and the crocodiles would rise from the water; we’d witness how they were feeding the crocodiles with live chickens. It was spectacular. You wouldn’t see anything until you throw the live chicken up across the lake and the crocodiles would rise by force.

As one who was around Ojukwu, what actually happened about the Aburi Accord?

No, I can’t tell you much, I was just observing. I didn’t go to the intellectual exercise.  That day, I was just a security man standing and securing. I know that at Aburi, a lot of people were involved, they were there, it was a large crowd and that was it for me.

Was there anything private that Ojukwu told you?

Of course, when he was in very good mood or sad mood, he said certain things, which were unique. For example, he said that one day our people will understand what sacrifices he made for them. There were certain things that he personally decided to do for our people even for which people did not fully appreciate.

The number one of course, that he spent his family money. I don’t know how many millions of pounds but when I was discussing with one foreigner, he said to me, even if he spent 10 million pounds, that it’s nothing in war. Then I said to him, it’s not up to 10 million but it’s a huge amount of money for an African businessman. He spent a fortune and that fortune belonged to the family. One of the things that he often said when we had a unique time of staying together, is that  “problems have solution time; don’t force the solution on any problem.”

He wasn’t speaking as a Christian but he was speaking some very basic things. He said, “I’ve a zip on the left side of my chest––you have it too. When you’ve a problem confronting you, if you don’t have any answer, zip down, throw it there and zip up; face whatever is next. If whatever is next is also a problem you can’t solve, get it into that pocket, put it there and go on with the one you can solve. One day, you’ll have an idea.” That’s what he called it, how to solve those problems––you zip down and bring them out.

Were there occasions that he talked about betrayals and things like that?

No, he never talked about such things; he may have talked to the generals or those who were very close to him but for us, our own was just on a lighter mood. For example, if he wanted to amuse us, he cracked very big jokes without smiles but if you think of it, you’d laugh and laugh. He was greeting a commander once; they finished talking in the office and he  came out––at least outside his office, there might usually be about 10 people, security officers––he came out, you know he was a man that liked to attract attention at what he does (he can get attention by what he says, that’s why people like Babangida called him a wordsmith; he can manoeuvre English words, and that came from Oxford that he attended) so, he was speaking to this man for us to hear. He said: “I’ve told you what you have to do in this circumstance, there’s nothing we can do from here. And I hope you remember what I told you.” And he was saying for us all to hear. He said, “For this, you’ll either beg, borrow or steal, but have the job done.” The man saluted him and he left. So, that’s a principle which he passed unto us––when it’s so hard you can’t get help from where you’re expecting, from authorities, you beg, borrow or steal, but have the job done.

On your own side, do you have any regrets about the war?

No! In fact, now I call myself, a man of destiny and the subtitle of my book is ‘A man helped by God’. I could have died during the war. God kept me alive, no regrets whatsoever. In fact, I had a very good friend, he’s dead now, he’s from the north, I think he’s from Sokoto, because we attended Police Training College together. He was my friend, he was the son of an emir.

When I came back and I contacted him, he said, “Obi, if any people did to my people what was done to your people, I’d do exactly what your people did and even more.” That’s the word he used in welcoming me and I looked at it, I have no regrets. I served my people honestly. I was on duty in my post and my transfer came as a police officer to report at the Biafra Government House; I reported there and the war broke out. I couldn’t desert; I stayed there. I was there for three years of the war and I continued and served in exile and I love the ideals of Biafra; to build a society where everybody has a right to belong, nobody is marginalized; to build a society where there is respect for the views of the people.

Fifty years after the war, have Nigerians learnt any lessons?

Yes, we should have learnt some lessons; don’t neglect the components of your being, every ethnic nationality belongs somewhere and they generally form a unit. It’s like an arm or head or leg, if you severe it, if you crush it yourself, you’ll lose that leg; and you’ll be one legged, you’ll not be complete. I think that this nation would have learnt a lesson on how to treat every component part of Nigeria. I don’t think we’ve a learnt a lesson; I don’t think so because if we had, then the healing will come faster. The healing is so slow because the policy of ‘No victor, no vanquished’ was not implemented. It looked as if there’s victor and people are defeated, they’ve no right to participation, they lost some rights, they lost their property, influence. Have we learnt a lesson? Yes, war does not do anybody any good; it’s painful. What you lost, you can’t easily recover. If you lost a house, you can’t easily recover, but if you lost a limb, son, or wife, you can’t recover. War is very expensive.

What’s your most striking war experience, positive or negative?

One of the issues I remember very well which was issue of rare incidence, it taught me a big lesson. What happened was that there was a compromise between the Nigerian and Biafra troops; they decided to be friends and avoid killing each other. Their reason was that Ojukwu and Gowon were in bunkers, quite safe and they were out there fighting, trying to kill one another. Why should they be killing themselves? That was what we learnt later. So, they dug a massive hole, vowed, made a pledge that any arms supplied, they’d bury them there and get on with their friendship. It was sealed with parties. They came over to the Biafra side to party and our people went to their side to party and our people supplied dancers, women, they supplied drinks and cigarettes and everything during the party. So, in one of the parties, our people suddenly took gun and arrested them; they said they were up to about 200.  They rented trucks and brought them to Umuahia and put them on parade. It was one of the rare incidences, which I remember, and it really struck me. They brought them to receive orders to execute them that they were war prisoners. When we received them and lined them up, we went to tell the Biafra leader and he said it’s impossible. He said “I’d investigate this, this is impossible. I’m a commander. As a military officer, I know that there’s something in this.” And he prepared and came and inspected the guard of honour. He went there but his fist was so tensed; after that he came out and began to cry.

“You thought I’m so bloodthirsty; you didn’t execute them; you never executed them at the front, you brought them here for me to execute. Now take them away from here; camp them in your base and make sure you feed them till the end of the war.” That was highly emotional. Some of the people that were there can’t remember. They would all have thought he would have said “take them away and execute them” but he wouldn’t do that. But the fact is that Nigerian soldiers, authorities and commanders, would not believe that he did it, because some of them were ruthless in their actions against our people.

BIAFRA : Remembering Whose Biafra?

Yes, there was indeed a country, a nation birthed on the blood and sufferings of a people whose passions rose so high they demanded secession at any price. Biafra was thus born on the footsteps of the temple of justice and like Carthage in the Third Punic War, she had a cause.

So no matter how it is put, even with the end of the war, Nigerians as we are, whether of the Igbo outlook or other ethnic groups that make up this behemoth of Africa, must come to terms with the fact that the civil war was never a one man rebellion as it is often wrongly cited, neither was it an attempt by the Igbo people to carve out a sphere of influence for ourselves, No! Rather, it was the flag stand for the survival of a people, both the Igbo and the minorities then in biafra. That we lost the war after putting up a much vaunting stand for victory as well as survival does not deny the just nature of our cause then, the world does not operate that way, otherwise Carthage would have defeated Rome and South Vietnam would have been an independent nation this day.

So, I have decided to dedicate this week and the next of my writings to the remembrance of the war, its actors as well as the sufferings and finally legacies of a war that was fought by brothers. I write this as a Nigerian and as an Igbo lacing this piece with a futuristic warning that we as a people must avoid repeating the same mistakes that led to the war. A second war, should it be fought, God forbid, will not be restricted to the east and contingent parts as was witnessed in the first, modern warfare has certainly buoyed man’s capacity for destruction, another war would see mutual destruction, that we cannot have.

So, who’s biafra do I want to remember? Should I start from the heroics or should I first examine the gory moments? Do I recount the feel-good moments of the war and then proceed to distasteful or vice versa?

Let me first punt on the heroics, and I will do that on all sides. I will recall the sheer brilliance of the biafran army and her people; her ingenuity as well as her resilience in the three years of fighting against such odds leaves her a worthy place in the annals of chivalry and warfare.

I cannot forget the nations that recognised us, Nyerere’s Tanzania, Kaunda’s Zambia, Boigny’s Cotedivoire, Omar Bongo’s Gabon and Papa Doc’s Haiti, nations that saw the genuiness of the biafran ordeal and thought that a diplomatic form of recognition was its own way of attaining justice for us.

To the aid groups that provided help and assistance of food and relief in the war, such as Catholic Relief Services, Cannairelief, Caritas International,World Council of Churches, Holy Ghost Fathers and a number of other groups airlifted food and supplies following the blockade of Biafra in order to save millions of children who were starving.

To the mercenaries, who came to fight for biafra, history will be kind to your memory. I single out Count Von Rossen, the Devil Pilot who fought for biafra for free! I hope to some day visit Sweden and lay a wreath at your graveside.

To the academia, the press and the intellectual movement within and outside biafra, that drew the attention of the world to the struggle of a people for freedom, giants like Uche Chukwumerije, Cyprian Ekwensi, Chinua Achebe, Christopher Okigbo, Ezekwe, Modebe and Frederick Forsythe. Forsyth, a former BBC journalist resisted efforts by the BBC to do a news management of the war, staying back to report the news from the biafran perspective, though his recent revelations that he had also spied for the MI6 calls into question the credibility of his support for the breakaway republic.

The biafran scientists and administrators who gave the new republic then, technological miracles, building weapons such as battle tanks, rockets and guns deserve celebration. Even, with the fall of Bonny and Port Harcourt which delivered a crushing blow to our fuel needs, biafra still refined fuel to meet the nation’s war needs. A shame that the Nigerian nation nor the nine states that made up the old Eastern Region and the defunct biafra has not been able to leverage upon!

Obviously, they are a number of untold struggles and localised heroics that never saw the light of day, they may not have been on the war front, but they too contributed immensely to shaping the war, we remember them, whoever they are and wherever they may be.

Buhari still fighting civil war against Igbo people – Nnamdi Kanu

Nnamdi Kanu, leader of the Indigenous People of Biafra, IPOB, has accused President Muhammadu Buhari of fighting a war against the Igbo people as if the Nigerian Civil war has not ended.

Kanu alleged that Buhari and his administration were still waging war against the people of the Southeast with their “dehumanising treatment against the Igbo.”

The IPOB leader stated this in a radio broadcast from his base in the United Kingdom, UK, yesterday.

He, however, maintained that even in the face of the maltreatment of Igbo, “without apologies to anybody or group, we are the best of the best and finest of the finest you can find anywhere in the world. I say this without apologies to anyone or group.”

According to Kanu: “The level of conspiracy, hatred and destruction unleashed on the things cherished by Biafrans by the current administration are unspeakable, unacceptable and uncondonable by any peace-loving section of the country.

“The war against the Igbo has not ended. The current administration in Nigeria is still fighting the war against the Igbo as if the Civil War has not ended.

“If the war of genocide against Biafrans has ended, why are Igweocha, Warri and Calabar seaports not opened? Why is Onitsha River port not functional? If the war has ended, why is there no international airport in the whole of Biafraland?

“If the war has ended, why does the Federal Government still station roadblocks across Biafraland and why are they still militarising Biafraland? Why is the government supporting the herdsmen to rape our old mothers and daughters across Biafraland?”

BIAFRA : Biafra in the eyes of an environmentalist

This week, we witnessed a lot of important voices raised in remembrance of the Nigerian Civil War, which lasted for two and a half years, from July 1967 to January 1970. What stands this year’s Armed Forces Remembrance Day out from previous commemorations is not just because it is the 50th Anniversary of the end of the war, but also because Nigerians have suddenly decided to talk about the elephant in the room: Biafra. Indeed, Channels TV gave it a full primetime package tagged, “Biafra: 50 Years After: Healing, Reconciliation and Reintegration”.

Before now, we were satisfied with just celebrating the annual Armed Forces Remembrance Day, as if the day had nothing to do with the Nigerian Civil War. Coupled with the fact that our country threw history out of the window a long time ago, many a Nigerian does not actually know that there is a connection between the Biafran surrender and the January 15 memorial. The word “Biafra” was a taboo, and citizens were encouraged to celebrate soldiers that died, without mentioning where they died, why they died, and what they died for.

To be clear, the first casualty of war is the environment, and the most important element in the environment is the human species. Therefore, no environmentalist anywhere in the world supports war and conflict. We are peacemakers. Period. This is why the United Nations, in 2001, declared November 6 of every year as the International Day for Preventing the Exploitation of the Environment in War and Armed Conflict, aimed at educating people about the damaging effects of war and armed conflict on the environment. This caveat is necessary because somebody might misconstrue my intention for writing on this topic.

To me, war is like an open wound. The best way to help it heal permanently is through diligent nursing: Open it up for ventilation, toss out the old bandage, apply salve, and put on fresh dressing. Without this constant procedure, the wound will fester and become cancerous, and then cause even more severe disability that would lead to death or amputation, if the patient is lucky.

Before now, Nigeria was adept at concealing her war wounds. As a result, the gaping wound was festering, and is already gangrenous, now threatening to become cancerous, which would require the inevitable amputation of her extremities. And if the amputation were carried out, her cosmetic cover-ups would have been exposed.

But thank Goodness, this January, perhaps, her healing has started. Prominent personalities – from former military dictator Ibrahim Babangida to Nobel laureate Wole Soyinka – joined the medical team to begin immediate treatment of the gangrene. On Channels TV, prominent Biafran Army veterans – like Sam Obaji and Okechukwu Unegbu – proudly faced the nation in their capacity as former military commanders. These Nigerians gingerly opened the dirty bandage over our wound. Surprisingly, nobody flinched at the stench from the rotten infection. We all want to heal!

However, we must ensure that this first damage assessment is sustained with further checkups and dressing of the wound, if not, there would be a relapse. There are two manifest truths that we must face. First is that another civil war needed but a little spark to be set off. The second is that the harm of another war will be too damaging to imagine: We may end up begging to be colonised all over again, by fellow African nations; our ecosystem will be so unhinged that we shall no longer be able to differentiate between rainy season and dry season; and all the advantages we enjoy as the biggest and smartest African enclave shall evaporate. Yet, the scariest truth is that none of our present problems would be solved by such a conflict.

The environment will be the first, and silent, casualty of any armed conflict. From the contamination of land and the destruction of forests to the plunder of natural resources and the collapse of management systems, it will be “dog eat dog” and “all man for himself”. The consequences will be widespread and devastating. It will be worse than the past civil war, because our population is higher and our hinterlands are now sitting ducks.  Technological advancement, which now seems like an advantage shall turn out to be a booby-trap.

The young Nigerians who are, today, on the social media taunting and provoking each other, easily forget that an all-out war will totally wipe out their internet connections. The day they will receive a rude shock and wake up from their ignorance is when they are herded together for compulsory conscription, given guns, and put under a commander, who will confiscate everything they own as a matter of routine.

When they will see no fast food joint to pop in and have a binge. When they will not find a fancy pharmaceutical store to pick up their prescription drugs, and would be lucky to find even a malaria medicine. When they would have to learn how to survive without cooked food for weeks on end. When they would be taught to destroy their own environment so as to discourage their enemy from “enjoying” their resources as they retreat further into the bushes for safety. When the only politics they would become used to is guided by survival instincts, based on the lies and distortions spewed out from propaganda machines.

The Rwandan genocide happened about 24 years after Biafra. It led to the killing of roughly 800,000 Tutsis and moderate Hutus. The war created massive migration of nearly two million Hutus fleeing Rwanda over the course of just a few weeks to refugee camps in Tanzania and now modern-day the Democratic Republic of the Congo. This large displacement of people in refugee camps put pressure on the surrounding ecosystem. Forests were cleared in order to provide wood for building shelters and creating cooking fires. These people suffered from harsh conditions and constituted an important threat impact to natural resources. Today the Rwandan government is determined to keep these dark memories alive in the minds of present-day Rwandans and survivors of the genocide.

Nonetheless, it is instructive to note that there are still Hutu rebels operating in some border communities of Rwanda, even as the government is determined to chart a new course for the country – which is now the pride of Africa in terms of economic development and environmental stewardship.

So, we do not need to be veterans to know that Biafra was destructive, neither do we need to become diplomats in order to solve the problems that caused the war, even as we still face them now. The peaceful and united Europe of today was the scarred continent of yesteryears, a region plagued by wars and violent conflicts. France and Britain were historical foes, but today they are allies. They have decided to solve their problems using only diplomatic channels.

Likewise, the United States of America fought a civil war (1861-1865), which polarized the country into two clear ideological regions. The vestiges of that crisis still exist today, but that did not make the country sweep the memories of the conflict under the carpet as we are wont to. They ventilated the issues in their educational, religious, political and cultural institutions. They etched the war stories in museums, films and theatre houses. Hence, when some Americans began to call for secession, like they did recently, the protests became just the cathartic voices of social dissenters seeking for attention, but lacked the energy to summon the spirits of the citizens – because their war-wounds are already healed.

BIAFRA : We, the Biafrans

It was early in 1969 and the Civil War was reaching a bloody crescendo. I had just been admitted to Ife Anglican Grammar School, Ile-Ife. The war, being fought in far-away battle fields, was a daily presence for us barrack children. One day my brother called his cousin staying with him. He did not want him to join the army.

“One person from our family is enough for this job,” he said seriously. “Please don’t!”

He was talking to the deaf. One day, our cousin disappeared from home. Many weeks later, he came to show-off in his new uniform. Few weeks later, his company was taken to join the famous Third Marine Commando Division, now being commanded by its new General Officer Commanding, GOC, Colonel Olusegun Obasanjo. We never saw him again.

All the six GOCs on the Nigerian side returned home. Only two of them are still alive, General IBM Haruna and General Obasanjo, the only GOC who was wounded on the battlefield. General Mohammed Shuwa, who commanded the First Division was killed a few years ago in Maiduguri by Boko Haram terrorists. His successor, General Illiya Bisalla, was executed in Lagos on March 11, 1976, for his alleged involvement in the coup of February 13, 1976, during which General Murtala Muhammed was killed. Muhammed, who was the first GOC of the Second Division, was succeeded in 1968 by General Ibrahim Bata Malgwi Haruna. The old soldier is alive and well. Obasanjo’s predecessor as the GOC Third Marine Commandoes Division was the fiery Colonel Benjamin Maja Adekunle. He too is dead.

Every warrior knows the futility of war. The late Major-General Adeyinka Adebayo was the first Nigerian Chief of Army Staff. At the time of the first coup on January 15, 1966, he was abroad on a military course. His successor, Colonel Kor Mohammed, was one of those officers killed by the mutineers. With the coup and the assassination of top politicians, including Prime Minister Abubakar Tafawa-Balewa and two regional premiers, the military suddenly found itself in charge of Nigeria. Their commander, the bully 42-year old General Thomas Aguiyi-Ironsi found himself in charge of a ship that was leaking and being tossed around on the high sea. By the time Adebayo returned from his overseas course, Ironsi was killed along with Lieutenant Colonel Adekunle Fajuyi, the Military Governor of the West. Ironsi’s Chief of Army, Yakubu Jack Gowon, a lanky lieutenant-colonel, was railroaded into the office of the new Head of State. Adebayo was dispatched to Ibadan to take-over as the successor to Colonel Fajuyi. Officially, Ironsi and Fajuyi were declared missing, but the military High Command knew they were dead.

Nigeria was in crisis. Even Gowon, the new military ruler could not live in the State House on the Marina. He had to move to Doddan Barracks, a fortress where he can be protected by loyal troops. The most senior army officer who survived the July 29, 1966 coup, Brigadier Babafemi Ogundipe, and Ironsi’s direct deputy, was harried to London where he resumed as the High Commissioner. The country was left in the clutches of ambitious young colonels were in their early 30s. The new Head of State was 32. It was this corps of young colonels who eventually led Nigeria into its greatest challenge and bloodiest tragedy.

Gowon had been brought to power in the bloodiest coup in Nigerian history during which scores of fellow military officers, most of them Igbo, were killed. Earlier during the riot of May 1966, thousands of Easterners, mostly Igbos, were killed in many Northern cities, especially Kaduna, Kano, and Jos. The coming of Gowon to power did not stop the systematic killings that went on in almost all parts of the North. Even trains were waylaid and their passengers brought down and killed. Such was the horror that attended Gowon’s early days in power.

Colonel Emeka Ojukwu, son of millionaire Lagos-transporter, Sir Louis, decided to grow a beard in defiance of military regulation in order to mourn the dead. He had been appointed military governor of the East by Ironsi in January 1966. By the end of that year, his main assignment was to receive the thousands of refugees who were pouring into the East daily, most of them with tales of horror.

Gowon believed that the East had a right to be aggrieved and he wanted to be conciliatory. A decision was taken that soldiers should return to three regions of origin, a decision that galvanized all surviving officers of Eastern Nigerian origin. Top Federal Civil Servant met Gowon and told him that it was a wrong decision. In retrospect, General Adebayo also thought so. But the barracks were no longer safe for Igbo officers in any part of Nigeria; not even in Ibadan or Lagos were many of them were killed. Therefore, at the 1967 Aburi Summit in Ghana, everyone was thinking of how to avert a Civil War. Ojukwu, at that time, had already set his gaze on the Independent Republic of Biafra.

The most senior military officer then, Admiral Akinwale Wey, wanted Gowon to listen more to the senior civil servants. The permanent secretaries had presented a paper to Gowon, advising that all the four military governors should be replaced and new regions be created. In the end, at the Benin meeting of the Supreme Military, it was agreed to split Nigeria into 12 states. Ojukwu boycotted the Summit but he was still retained as the Governor of the new East Central State. Another Governor appointed by Ironsi, Colonel David Ejoor, was to retain his position as the Governor of the Mid-West. Colonel Hassan Usman Katsina, the Governor of the North, was to leave immediately and move to Defence Headquarters in Lagos. Adebayo retained his position as the Governor of the West.

Ojukwu rejected the outcome of the Benin meeting of the Supreme Military Council. Few days later, he declared the Republic of Biafra. General Adebayo believed that the country was not in a position to fight a Civil War in 1967. There were just about 15,000 soldiers and about 30,000 Federal policemen and women. But the war came and more than one million lives lost and our country changed forever.

Many years later, I had met Ojukwu several times in Lagos and he insisted that he had no regret about the war.

“The Biafran War was a just struggle for justice,” he said again and again. “Anyone who loves justice and is ready to fight for it is a Biafran.”

Ojukwu, who died in 2011, did not publish his memoir of the war contrary to his repeated promise. It is believedd that Bianca, his widow and some of his bosom friends, may be privy to that manuscript if it exists at all. Gowon too is yet to publish his own version. Among the six GOCs on the Federal Side, only Obasanjo has written his memoir of the war. There have been other books on the war from participants, but we still need to hear from Gowon and the memoir of Ojukwu needs to be published if it exist.

In 1994, I and my friend, Dele Omotunde, had met with the Great Zik, Dr Nnamdi Azikiwe at his Onuiyi Haven in Nzukka. His Zik’s Library, which contained one of the rarest collections of books and manuscripts in Africa had been destroyed during the war. Victorious Federal troops have used those big books in the library to make a fire to prepare their dinner or make suya. Fifty years after the war, are we still not burning our most precious libraries now?

General Yakubu Danjuma, one of the principal players in the coup that brought Gowon to power, once warned that “no country can survive two civil wars.” We have to learn from the sacrifice of those who perish in the last Civil War so that there would not be another one. No part of this country must feel deprived enough that it would have no other option than a resort to arms.

One way to start is to examine the current Nigerian Constitution which proclaims on its opening page: “We the People!”

We all know this is not true. The last Peoples Constitution in Nigeria was the Independent Constitution of 1960. Nigeria certainly needs a proper people’s Constitution that would be adopted in the end by a General Referendum. No country can survive until eternity living on a lie.