By Azuka Jebose
On April 19, 2019, my favorite son of our Ushi village, my great and rascally relative, ex-Biafra soldier, ONYENOKAR ANAZIA, died in our dear homeland. Here are our musings, once upon a walk along the snaky farm road of our serene village in 2013. May his soul continue to rest in grace.
The Nigerian civil war was a horrific experience. Those who were involved either as soldiers or victims of the war would never forget those horrible years of uncertainty. We felt the pains and agony of destruction, disruptions, and displacements of our lives and families. In 1966, I was a five-year-old son, living through one of Nigeria’s most grotesque years in history. Most young people roamed our town and sought engagements with rumors of impending catastrophe, unsure of any day and not certain of our gloomy tomorrow. Life was palpable. Families were destroyed by the carnage. In our homes, we sheltered at my grandmother’s mud home during the day and at nightfalls, hid in our farms, located deep in hidden forests. The farmland was our hide-out from the inferno of destructions triggered by Federal Troops’ shellings of my native land. The war came to us suddenly, swiftly and surprisingly in Onicha Ugbo. Most young men from my hometown decided to join the Military and, thus, fought in the war. Some joined the Nigerian army, others pitched tents with the Biafra Army..
I didn’t know that one of my extended relatives was a Biafra soldier until once upon a mid-noon “joint session” along the narrow path of our village farm road. Through the years, I admired “Bros Nokar- as we affectionately called him ( Famously known as Onyeoma Dakota), for his brazen rascality, non-conformist spirit, rebellion against ultra-conservative traditions and the mundane that impeded progress in our community.
Bros Nokar introduced me to early romance and appreciation of natural fresh leaves of marijuana: I was a teenager and lived with my grandmother when I experienced “his loyal highness”: Grandmother usually hired Bros Nokar and his friends as farm laborers and helpers during the farm season to assist us with bush clearing and crop seed planting. I always accompanied the laborers to the early morning farm work. During one of our noon breaks at the Ugbo orfu, Norkar prepared delicious yam porridge flavored and marinated in fresh marijuana leaves: Men and boys would sit around the steamy pot, and eat from the pot of porridge with our hands. That was my first attempt at real medication for pain relief.
I returned home in 2013 to bury my mother. So one evening, during a blazing rendezvous along our village farm pathways, my aging but still rascally favorite, Bros Nokar shared with me his experiences as a Biafran soldier during the Nigeria/Biafra war: From his accounts, I learned about a few Delta State soldiers that pitched camps with the Federal Republic of Biafra. In the middle of our highness, Onyeoma Dakota suddenly told me that he wanted to tell me about his experiences as a Biafran warrior. I was shocked that he fought on the side of Biafra. “Bros, Ije aya Biafra” I asked in our sensual dialect as I inhaled the ganja wrap.
“Azu baba, let me tell you my story from the beginning: I traveled from Onicha Ugbo to Enugu and was recruited by Col Okafor in 1967 after Biafra troupes crushed and captured Midwestern Nigeria. Midwest fell to Biafra on August 9, 1967, and on 12th of August I was recruited: I did my military training at Orgu near Enugu with the 10th Battalion Garrison: Orgu was a training depot. I quickly rose through the ranks and became a Sergeant Major and also a military police officer to His Excellency Special Rep, B.C Nwosu. B.C Nwosu was a chief magistrate before Ojukwu appointed him as a Special Rep while the Chief Division Commander for Nnewi was Brigadier Amadi. On May 5th 1968, I was sent to Haiti for military training that lasted six months. Ojukwu promoted five soldiers to 2nd lieutenants at Iwolo in 1969 but we rejected the promotion due to sabotage.
Biafra collapsed because of sabotage. I Left Biafra Army at the end of the war in March 1970. The federal army under Gowon refused to absorb us into the Nigerian army. We were loyal to Ojukwu but he failed us. He abandoned us: Ojukwu betrayed us. We were young, believed in Biafra, and fought to actualize the Republic. But our leader was weak. He ran away into exile as the Federal troupes cornered us. He should have stayed with us, but he ran, leaving us behind…
I joined Biafra because Nigeria failed me then. I tried to join the Nigerian military school, Zaria in 1965… By 1966, Nigeria had the first military coup that quashed my desire: through Lt A.A Keshi, another Onicha Ugbo illustrious son, then the recruitment officer in Mid Western region, I tried the Nigerian army, but it didn’t work: I was invited to Ogbe stadium in Benin on Dec 3, 1966, immediately after the Northern crisis..
Ojukwu and Gowan were threading on warpaths with everyday radio broadcasts accusing each other: Ojukwu claimed he was training militias and General Yakubu Gowon, the then Military Head of the Nigerian state, made Midwest, Nigerian army’s fourth area command…Their radio broadcast threats empowered me to head toward Asaba to enlist in the Biafra army. I felt those two Military leaders were getting ready to battle: Nigeria was about to explode and I needed to be in the middle of the explosion as a young man with no jobs and no future then. So Me and my friends headed toward the River Niger, we were young and needed employment.
We wanted to be engaged and perhaps, die for a country. Azu baba, imagine that adrenaline chasing our young dormant hormones. We heard about a recruitment center at Nike Grammar School in Enugu, so we went there and most of us were recruited. Late Colonel Okafor, from Isele Uku, recruited us that day. That was how and why we fought for Biafra and I do not, to this day, regret being a Biafran Soldier”.
He inhaled deeply his weed, shifted his mouth to the left, and exhaled a series of ganja smokes. Then he passed the wrap to me and said:” Azu baba, you be my boy since. Nor mind these villagers returning from the farm, them go see us and tell diokpa. Diokpa is dead. Na your mama burial we come to do…But Old Soldier Never Dies…”
May his soul continue to rest in grace.
… Jebose wrote in from America and he is a journalist.
