A story on Biafra war-----What You Need To know About the Civil war (Biafran War)

I’m heading to Uzoakoli to do battle
I’m heading to Uzoakoli, but My lover cries out, she didn’t want me dead.
My lover begs me to flee,
But who will defend the land When I flee?
My sweet heart begs me to Flee,
But who will do battle when the Hausas come#

With this song Biafran men
and Russian planes invaded their land to continue the Genocide that they started in the North  in 1966.

marched into battle to defend their fatherland  as Northern troops led by British tanks

Every Month of May, we Remember Over 45, 000 innocent people,

men, women, children of old Eastern Nigeria , butchered in 1966 all over Northern Nigeria just  in 3 months in the first govt supported genocide in Africa.

Many were laid on rail tracks and crushed by train, men buried alive, pregnant women had their bellies ripped open,Children clubbed to death, Innocent souls whose only crime was  belonging to a different ethnic group and Faith,

To the 45,000  Innocent souls whose blood was used to irrigate the deserts of Northern Nigeria, although the conspiracy of silence continues by most Nigerians, although no monuments are erected, although no atonement has been made for that unprecedented horror,their Blood continue to cry out against this nation, a nation that pretends it never happened - but we, your kins, forced to bury empty coffins, we your brothers-
WE REMEMBER

The Thousands and thousands unaccounted for- in unmarked graves, from Kano to Maidugiri, to Jos to Markudi, to Zaria, to Kafanchan,to illorin,

Although Nigeria sits on these graves and pretends it didn’t happen but we in whose home steads you left empty spaces-
WE REMEMBER

To the he brave hearts who stood up to the British armoured cars with matchetes

Two Boys who shared a riffle so when one fell the other will pick up his gun to defend his freedom. To the men who went into battle with five rounds each and must only shoot when he was sure to kill. The men who laid down their lives so I may live
WE REMEMBER

My three kinsmen who volunteered in Oguta and Ontisha sectors,brave men Who never returned-still on patrol
YOUR FAMILIES REMEMBER

To Bruce Mayrock, an American student who set himself on fire, laid down his life to protest against  the Genocide by Nigeria against its own people
WE REMEMBER

Artur Alves Pereira and Count Von Rosen  of the Biafran airforce who came to Biafra in protest against the state sponsored pogrom
WE REMEMBER

To Wole Soyinka, who stood alone and insisted” the man died” who kept silent in the face of such a pogrom
WE REMEMBER

Tanzania, Ivory Coast, Zambia and Haiti, nations that hoisted our flags against the silence of the world
WE REMEMBER

All members of the Research And Production unit (RAP),
with no outside help YOU demonstrated that the black man can do wonders if only he looks inwards; Home made armoured cars, rockets, beer from cassava, engine oil from coconut, the Biafran Red Devil (Amoured vehicle), the Shore Batteries, the Ogbunigwes. Your ingenuity, your bravely, today-
WE REMEMBER

To our brave mothers , who cooked and sent to their sons in the trenches, knowing it could be their last meal-
WE REMEMBER

The little boys who went “combing” many returned, many did not
WE  REMEMBER

The World Council of Churches, The Caritas, The Red Cross who saved millions of children with food aid, despite the blockade,
WE REMEMBER

Millions of our Children who had no milk and died before their time
WE REMEMBER

Ah! Corporal Nwafor, you took in the hail of bullets from the vandals yet continued your final run towards their armoured car with a grenade in your hand, until you successfully threw the grenade into the troublesome vehicle and disabled it before you let your bullet riddled body fall to the ground and your comrades captured the precious armoured car and renamed it “Copral Nwafor”
WE REMEMBER

Col Patrick Achuzie-, General Alexander Madiebo, Gen. Philip Effiong, Col. Onwuatuegwu, Nkonko Ndem and all brave men who stood in the gap
WE REMEMBER

Odumegwu Ojukwu switched from Ball rooms to Bunkers, leaving behind a tremendous wealth to give shelter to a people faced with death, you turned artisans into fighters and scientists,  your mission, to build the first black nation with an indigenous technology.

Under the pressure of  mortar shells and in less than three years, you demonstrated that  the black man can hold his own, but the whites didn’t seem to be comfortable with an indigenous African technology, so  UK and USSR suspended their enmity and empowered their Northern stooge to distract you. The Arab League threw its weight behind the North, the rest is history

General Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu,Eze igbo gburugburu, oguejiofo..
WE REMEBER

May justice prevail, may peace reign, may we NEVER find a need to shed blood,May  God open the eyes of this Nation to see that like the blood of Abel, the blood of the innocent Easterners shed  needlessly in 1966 calls for atonement and until the Nation collectively owns up to it, it can never be free from this vicious circle.

#May30thBiafranHeroesDay


Disclaimer: Opinions expressed in comments are those of the comment writers alone and does not reflect or represent the views of Victor Duru

AN AMAZING STORY...

A brilliant piece indeed... ....


AN AMAZING STORY...

Here is an amazing story from a flight attendant on Delta Flight 15, written following 9-11:

On the morning of Tuesday, September 11, we were about 5 hours out of Frankfurt, flying over the North Atlantic .

All of a sudden the curtains parted and
I was told to go to the cockpit, immediately, to see the captain. As soon as I got there I noticed that the crew had that "All Business" look on their faces. The captain handed me a printed message. It was from Delta's main office in Atlanta and simply read, "All airways over the Continental United States are closed to commercial air traffic. Land ASAP at the nearest airport. Advise your destination."

No one said a word about what this could mean. We knew it was a serious situation and we needed to find terra firma quickly. The captain determined that the nearest airport was 400 miles behind us in Gander, Newfoundland.

He requested approval for a route change from the Canadian traffic controller and approval was granted immediately -- no questions asked. We found out later, of course, why there was no hesitation in approving our request.

While the flight crew prepared the airplane for landing, another message arrived from Atlanta telling us about some terrorist activity in the New York area. A few minutes later word came in about the hijackings.

We decided to LIE to the passengers while we were still in the air. We told them the plane had a simple instrument problem and that we needed to land at the nearest airport in Gander , New Foundland, to have it checked out.

We promised to give more information after landing in Gander .. There was much grumbling among the passengers, but that's nothing new! Forty minutes later, we landed in Gander. Local time at Gander was 12:30 PM .... that's 11:00 AM EST.

There were already about 20 other airplanes on the ground from all over the world that had taken this detour on their way to the US.

After we parked on the ramp, the captain made the following announcement: "Ladies and gentlemen, you must be wondering if all these airplanes around us have the same instrument problem as we have. The reality is that we are here for another reason."

Then he went on to explain the little bit we knew about the situation in the US. There were loud gasps and stares of disbelief. The captain informed passengers that Ground control in Gander told us to stay put.

The Canadian Government was in charge of our situation and no one was allowed to get off the aircraft. No one on the ground was allowed to come near any of the air crafts. Only airport police would come around periodically, look us over and go on to the next airplane.

In the next hour or so more planes landed and Gander ended up with 53 airplanes from all over the world, 27 of which were US commercial jets.

Meanwhile, bits of news started to come in over the aircraft radio and for the first time we learned that airplanes were flown into the World Trade Center in New York and into the Pentagon in DC.

People were trying to use their cell phones, but were unable to connect due to a different cell system in Canada . Some did get through, but were only able to get to the Canadian operator who would tell them that the lines to the U.S. were either blocked or jammed.

Sometime in the evening the news filtered to us that the World Trade Center buildings had collapsed and that a fourth hijacking had resulted in a crash. By now the passengers were emotionally and physically exhausted, not to mention frightened, but everyone stayed amazingly calm.

We had only to look out the window at the 52 other stranded aircraft to realize that we were not the only ones in this predicament.

We had been told earlier that they would be allowing people off the planes one plane at a time. At 6 PM, Gander airport told us that our turn to deplane would be 11 am the next morning.

Passengers were not happy, but they simply resigned themselves to this news without much noise and started to prepare themselves to spend the night on the airplane.

Gander had promised us medical attention, if needed, water, and lavatory servicing.

And they were true to their word.

Fortunately we had no medical situations to worry about. We did have a young lady who was 33 weeks into her pregnancy. We took REALLY good care of her. The night passed without incident despite the uncomfortable sleeping arrangements.

About 10:30 on the morning of the 12th a convoy of school buses showed up. We got off the plane and were taken to the terminal where we went through Immigration and Customs and then had to register with the Red Cross.

After that we (the crew) were separated from the passengers and were taken in vans to a small hotel. We had no idea where our passengers were going. We learned from the Red Cross that the town of Gander has a population of 10,400 people and they had about 10,500 passengers to take care of from all the airplanes that were forced into Gander!

We were told to just relax at the hotel and we would be contacted when the US airports opened again, but not to expect that call for a while.

We found out the total scope of the terror back home only after getting to our hotel and turning on the TV, 24 hours after it all started.

Meanwhile, we had lots of time on our hands and found that the people of Gander were extremely friendly. They started calling us the "plane people." We enjoyed their hospitality, explored the town of Gander and ended up having a pretty good time.

Two days later, we got that call and were taken back to the Gander airport. Back on the plane, we were reunited with the passengers and found out what they had been doing for the past two days.

What we found out was incredible.....

Gander and all the surrounding communities (within about a 75 Kilometer radius) had closed all high schools, meeting halls, lodges, and any other large gathering places. They converted all these facilities to mass lodging areas for all the stranded travelers.

Some had cots set up, some had mats with sleeping bags and pillows set up.

ALL the high school students were required to volunteer theirtime to take care of the "guests."

Our 218 passengers ended up in a town called Lewisporte, about 45 kilometers from Gander where they were put up in a high school. If any women wanted to be in a women-only facility, that was arranged.

Families were kept together. All the elderly passengers were taken to private homes.

Remember that young pregnant lady? She was put up in a private home right across the street from a 24-hour Urgent Care facility.There was a dentist on call and both male and female nurses remained with the crowd for the duration.

Phone calls and e-mails to the U.S. and around the world were available to everyone once a day. During the day, passengers were offered "Excursion" trips.
Some people went on boat cruises of the lakes and harbors. Some went for hikes in the local forests.

Local bakeries stayed open to make fresh bread for the guests.

Food was prepared by all the residents and brought to the schools. People were driven to restaurants of their choice and offered wonderful meals. Everyone was given tokens for local laundry mats to wash their clothes, since luggage was still on the aircraft.

In other words, every single need was met for those stranded travelers.

Passengers were crying while telling us these stories. Finally, when they were told that U.S. airports had reopened, they were delivered to the airport right on time and without a single passenger missing or late. The local Red Cross had all the information about thewhereabouts of each and every passenger and knew
which plane they needed to be on and when all the planes were leaving. They coordinated everything beautifully.

It was absolutely incredible.

When passengers came on board, it was like they had been on a cruise. Everyone knew each other by name. They were swapping stories of their stay, impressing each other with who had the better time. Our flight back to Atlanta looked like a chartered party flight. The crew just stayed out of their way. It was mind-boggling.

Passengers had totally bonded and were calling each other by their first names, exchanging phone numbers, addresses, and email addresses.

And then a very unusual thing happened.

One of our passengers approached me and asked if he could make an announcement over the PA system. We never, ever allow that. But this time was different. I said "of course" and handed him the mike. He picked up the PA and reminded everyone about what they had just gone through in the last few days.
He reminded them of the hospitality they had received at the hands of total strangers.

He continued by saying that he would like to do something in return for the good folks of Lewisporte.

"He said he was going to set up a Trust Fund under the name of DELTA 15 (our flight number). The purpose of the trust fund is to provide college scholarships for the high school students of Lewisporte.

He asked for donations of any amount from his fellow travelers. When the paper with donations got back to us with the amounts, names, phone numbers and addresses, the total was for more than $14,000!

"The gentleman, a MD from Virginia , promised to match the donations and to start the administrative work on the scholarship. He also said that he would forward this proposal to Delta Corporate and ask them to donate as well.

As I write this account, the trust fund is at more than $1.5 million and has assisted 134 students in college education.

"I just wanted to share this story because we need good stories right now. It gives me a little bit of hope to know that some people in a faraway place were kind to some strangers who literally dropped in on them.

It reminds me how much good there is in the world."

"In spite of all the rotten things we see going on in today's world this story confirms that there are still a lot of good people in the world and when things get bad, they will come forward.

*This is one of those stories that need to be shared. Please do so...*




Disclaimer: Opinions expressed in comments are those of the comment writers alone and does not reflect or represent the views of Victor Duru

OBASANJO'S RESPONSE TO BBC HARDTALK: WHY IGBOS ARE ANGRY WITH NIGERIA:

Source : The Republican News

“My friends who are not from the East of Nigeria where Igbos come from often ask me why there is so much anger in the East and among Igbos. Some wonder why, despite the famed Igbo” wealth’ and enterprise all over Nigeria, the people still complain that Nigeria is unfair to them. Some insinuate that the anger comes from
the loss of the 2015 election by Jonathan who the Igbos heavily backed.

And why is it that the current generation of Igbos are so angry as to contemplate carrying arms against the country? With lots following Nnamdi Kanu of IPOB with his secessionist message. Those not following Kanu may despise his antics and rhetoric but are sympathetic to his underlying message. And what is that message? That Igbos don’t feel wanted in Nigeria. That decades of official marginalization and discrimination should be stopped or they should be allowed to take their chances in a new nation.

First, for those who think this is all about Jonathan and Buhari. It is not. Igbos were disappointed that Jonathan did not win. But those whose candidates lose elections lick their wounds. It is allowed. It happens when your candidate loses election. Why did the Igbos invest so much emotions in Jonathan, a non-Igbo from Ijaw? It was more because of the fear of their experience in the past 50 years. Nigeria has placed an embargo on any Igbo man becoming Nigerian president and Igbos understand this.

Jonathan was the next best thing. Other parts of Nigeria have supported their sons to the presidency. Some have bombed Nigeria into submission to get their sons to Aso Rock. Igbos have little capacity to blackmail Nigeria to the presidency. They chose Jonathan as their “Igbo”. But that’s not to say that they are angry enough because he lost to contemplate going to war on his behalf. Jonathan was not really the model of a President the Igbo would go to war for. And even his Ijaw people have accepted his loss.

So? Igbo anger has been building up in Nigeria since the 70s. As kids, people made choices in other parts of Nigeria school years based on the narrative of the Igbo place in Nigeria. They knew about the glass ceiling against Igbos.

After the civil war, despite the “No winner, no vanquished” program, Nigeria placed glass ceilings and no-go areas for Igbos. The war reconstruction program was observed more in the breach. There was the “abandoned” property program that was introduced to drive a wedge between components of the former South-East Nigeria. While the country was too embarrassed to put the discrimination program down in an official gazette, it was there for anyone who cared to look. It was evident in the Igbo police officer who stayed in one position while less qualifies juniors progressed to become his bosses. It was evident when no Igbo qualified to become the Inspector General of Police, or lead any division in the armed forces. It was there when "sensitive" or "lucrative" positions were shared in Nigeria and Igbos were conspicuously absent.

It was there when Igbos were only fit enough to be made Minister of Information until Obasanjo administration came to power. And even recently, it was there when Buhari appointed 47 people to man the critical roles in his government and no one from the South east was there. Any time there is a federal appointment in Nigeria, its usually the east that is left to shout. It was there from Buhari first term as a Military Junta to his second coming and any other time in-between.

The Igbo elite called it marginalization. Other Nigerians countered by saying no part of Nigeria was getting enough. Marginalization was universal. But they forgot something. The Igbo cry of marginalization was official policy. It was expected. It was programmed. And occasionally, key government officials let it slip that Igbos should not complain. After all, they fought a war with Nigeria. Talk about No Victor, No Vanquished. There was a Victor alright. And they were reminded of that at every turn. Every appointment. Every national project was propagated with the glass ceiling in mind to contain the Igbos.

How can any nation grow when the leaders are mandated to keep a viable component of her resources subjugated and useless because of fear and insecurity? Nigeria was only pretending. Igbos were licking their wounds and complaining and the rest of Nigeria were too busy to notice. Go to the South-East today. Since the 70s and the oil boom. Nigeria has invested in commercial industries across the country. None has been sited in the South east. None. Refineries, Steel Plants, Cement Firms. Any Industry.

The South East was systematically deindustrialized. Even when it was the best location for any industry, there was always a reason why it should not be sited there. What this means was that any Igbo man that wanted to work in a commercial federal establishment had to leave the east. Add this to the indigenization policy of the early 70s that pushed the Igbos out of private companies. It meant that international companies also avoided expansion into the south east. The Nigerian Breweries, the Dunlop and other such firms sited their plants outside the East and only set up distribution centers to sell in the region.

This is one of the main reasons the exodus of Igbos from the zone accelerated after the war and continues to this day despite the hostility they face in certain parts of Nigeria. And why most Igbos became traders and commercial business men. Access to organized work either in the government, government commercial institutions and even commercial institutions were limited. This concerted government plan worked so well that the even Igbos began to hate themselves and hate to invest in their zone till this day.

The only industrial enterprise in the east are built by easterners; Nnewi, Aba, Onitsha. These are Igbo indigenous industrial cities. The plan was to frustrate them from investing in their zone or force them to move the industry to North or West where it can be taken from them after getting them to transfer the technology. This has been the practice since the end of the war.

In addition to this, the Federal Government has systematically made it difficult for Easterners to do commercial business even in the East. The Federal Roads in the East are some of the worst in Nigeria. The Eastern Sea ports have been made ineffective. It was a war to get the Enugu Airport upgraded to an International Airport. The former Finance Minister shed tears on the day the first International Flight landed in Enugu. Yes, Okonjo Iwealla cried! Recently, it was only the South East that was conspicuously missing in the New Railway Plan of the Federal Government.

Nigeria has 6 regions and one was missing in a national railway plan while nobody cares. Incidentally, Igbos who reside in the east are the most itinerant in the country and would benefit most from a national transport plan. Even our President Buhari changed the plan to include his village but a major zone of the country was not included.

When you go to the east, despite the lack of federal presence, the presence of police all over the east tells a story. They mount road blocks and make it difficult to have commercial activities to run smoothly. Recently, Customs has joined. And lastly the army. It is an occupied territory. They extort money. They intimidate them by all means. They have recently started shooting and killing them.
Nigeria has made the east unlivable. They sponsor dubious governors, senators, and political leaders that take orders from the caliphate - Purposely, Carefully.

In conversations, people often accuse the east of being clannish or tribalistic. That is far from the truth. No group assimilate or blend in more than the Igbos. They claim Igbos are welcome in all parts of Nigeria, but outsiders cannot come to the East. The question is: why would anyone come to the east? To do what? There is no business to do in the east. Nigeria has ensured that. Why would someone from the South West of Nigeria go to the East to invest? No one would prevent them. But it hardly makes commercial sense. Nigeria has ensured that.

Those from the North are there in droves. Igbos love to celebrate with cows. And the cattlemen go there to sell their cattle. No one molests them. In the villages in the East, these northerners live unmolested. But those are the only people who can find commercial reason to be there! So those who wonder why Igbos are angry, wonder no more. While most would not dare carry arms against Nigeria, don’t under estimate the level of disconnection and anger especially among the younger generation who feel hopeless and in prisoned for something they did not do.

Nigeria is made of nations that came together to form the country. No nation will like to remain in perpetual servitude or slavery. Igbos were at the forefront in the fight for Nigerian independence against Britain. If they did not allow Britain to subjugate them, they surely will not allow any local power or they may strike at the slightest opportunity at other pseudo dominating power over them.

That Nnamdi Kanu’s supporters starred down army tanks with sticks is a sign that the next generation will be ready to fight bare hands if necessary to stop Nigeria treating the Igbo nation as second-class citizens. There will be fiercer and angrier Kanus in the immediate future if Nigeria does not officially stop the “vanquished “program against the Igbos who fought the civil war.

You cannot preach *unity* and *indivisibility* of the country on TV and all your actions point to discrimination against the components of the country. It is hypocrisy. It is as dangerous as it is foolhardy. Let those who preach unity walk the talk and stop open discrimination of their countrymen. History has shown that you cannot decree peace. You cannot decree unity. You cannot force any group to belong to a country by force, it may work for a time. But never sustainable.

Nigeria has a lot to look forward to as a united country. It also has enough for the regions and nations that make up the country. Our diversity is a blessing. Our failure to reach our potential is caused mostly by the internal contradictions and the inability to build a fair country that can bring out the best out of her component regions.

Those who shout most about loving Nigeria today are mostly those its current unfair structure favor. But Nigeria will continue being as strong as its weakest link. And the weak links are all there to see. The East is one of the weakest links. Until it stops being a weak link, Nigeria cannot truly make progress”

Source : The Republican News.



Disclaimer: Opinions expressed in
comments are those of the comment writers alone and does not reflect or represent the views of Victor Duru

ISADORA

 STAY TUNED
 Episode 1
Story based on true life experience.
2nd February 2012
Scene 1 begins with Val’s side of the story’’’’’’’
Driving down the lonely hills of Nsukka after a very extensive research work for my new book, I was very tired and a bit restless as I planned my schedules for the weekend without concentrating much on my driving. Walking down absentmindedly on the middle of the same road was this young girl with an empty tray on her head. I never saw her on
time and almost knocked her down if not for my powerful brakes which screeched the car to stop just hairs breathe away from her. Out of shock, the tray on the young lady’s head fell and rolled over to the gutter while I rushed out of the car to see if she was alright. She turned to look at me that moment and it was as if the world came to a stop as our eyes met.
Before me was the most beautiful girl

I have ever seen. She wore no makeup, she was sweating, her clothes were far from elegant but yet her beauty overshadowed it all. It was as if I was standing before the Nigerian version of Cinderella.
‘’I’m sorry I wasn’t paying much attention but you were equally walking in the middle of the road. Hope you are okay?’’ I nervously asked as I headed to the gutter to pick up her tray. She nodded with eyes filled with tears, quickly collected the tray for me and drew backwards.
‘’I’m sorry for almost putting you in trouble. Forgive me’’ she breathed fluently, surprising me with her English. But before I could say anything further she was already walking down the road.
‘’my name is valentine, can I, can I drop you where ever you are going?’’ I stammered. I couldn’t even believe myself. It was my first time of offering a lift to a stranger. But unfortunately she gave me no reply, neither did she stop for a second. Hesitantly I headed back to my car and drove away, wondering if I would ever see her again in my life.
——————————-
Isadora’s side of the story
One hundred, two hundred, three hundred, I counted the money with me for the umpteenth time. It was money I made from the sales of Udara (African apple) I sold at the Afor market close by. I was very lucky to sell the apples on time and was rushing home to prepare lunch for my adoptive family who derived pleasure in abusing me, in finding faults in everything I did.
I wasn’t brought up with happiness like other village girls. I was brought up with daily abuses, stigmatization and curses. I was told that I was an evil child that brought misfortunes to my biological parent’s right from when my mother was carrying me in her womb. I was equally told that six months after I was born, my parents burnt to death in their house with every single property in it and I was found untouched by the fire, laughing hysterically on my baby bed. It was a story I was told a hundred times over and I really had no way of verifying the authenticity.
Yes my head was filled with my childhood memories that I never knew when I started walking in the middle of the road only to get myself when the noise from a screeching tire brought me back to reality.
I soon found myself facing a very handsome gentleman who never scolded me for being in the middle of the road, for almost putting him in trouble. Instead he asked if I was alright. My heart, my soul, my entire body just quivered before him. At first I thought I shivered out of fear but then inside of me I felt something I had never felt before and had to walk away to avoid disgracing myself further.
Valentine was the name he called to me and It kept ringing back in my head over and over. Deep down I felt like chatting endlessly with him, sharing my problems with him but all I could do was to walk away without looking back. I soon saw his car speed away and I couldn’t help but wonder if I was ever going to see him again.
———————————————–
On getting home I ran into my mother who instead of welcoming me back happily for making a quick sale, began scolding me for not sweeping the compound and fetching water before heading to the market, forgetting she was the one that asked me to abandon everything and head to the market to sell her Udara fruit.
I tried to remind her but it only landed me three dirty slaps on my cheek. I was hungry, angry and tired of life. I was nineteen and saw no future before me. I knew all my adoptive parents were planning was to marry me off to the highest bidder. Yes by God’s grace I already managed to finish my secondary school with the help of church scholarship but that was the end. Since then my parents had virtually refused allowing me to go learn a trade or even do something that would help me in future and I couldn’t help but realize that the more I stayed with them the more I was ruining my life. i made up my mind that very day to leave the house, to run away, to run to my future. A very daring decision, a very risky adventure. I had no money with me, no destination in mind, only God and fear in my heart.
I sneaked out of the house later that night and stepped into the unknown.


Episode 2
Isadora’s side of the story continues from the last scene of the previous episode
Leaving the house was one thing, having where to go, a much more difficult issue. As I stepped out of the house that night I knew my life was never ever going to be the same again. I just couldn’t help but pray for everything to turn out good for me. In my short life I had experienced lots of horrible things that could only be seen in movies.
I trekked all night to a popular motor park in the neighboring town. I had no money on me and my prayer was just to meet a Good Samaritan who could assist me to at least get to Enugu city. I believed I could survive in the city as a maid, a housekeeper, a salesgirl or any decent feminine job that could at least offer a roof over my head as I reshaped my life.
Yes it really wasn’t easy leaving the house I spent all my young life to the unknown but I felt it was much better to die trying to get a better life than live a life of damnation.
I managed to find an empty abandoned bus at the motor park, where I stayed and rested for the rest of the night and early the next morning I stepped out and wandered round the park searching for a Good Samaritan to assist me. I equally was scared of getting recognized and caught since I wasn’t really very much far from home. Yes i was scared of stepping into the wrong hands.
‘’dear lord help’’ I prayed earnestly.
Soon the Catholic Church bell close to the motor park rang, notifying everyone that the time was 12 o clock, time for angelus. I looked up at the sky and wondered if anyone would really assist me. The few people I managed to talk to only shrugged and walked away after listening to my pleas. I was helpless, I was hopeless. I was overly scared.
‘’hey young lady are you okay?’’ I soon heard a male voice ask from behind. I turned to see a middle aged young man smiling down at me as he chewed a long stick of sugar cane. He very much looked like a bus driver because he wasn’t neatly dressed as a traveler or rough as a tout.
‘’good afternoon’’ I stammered, looking up at him hopefully.
‘’you have been wandering round this park since morning. Are you searching for something?’’ he asked in vernacular.
‘’no sir, I need help. I’m looking for someone that will assist me get to Enugu town’’ I stammered, watching his reaction. He chewed on his sugar cane for a little while as he studied me
‘’hmmm where exactly in Enugu city are you heading to?’’ he asked curiously while I dropped my eyes. A part of me felt like lying, another part of me kicked against it.
‘’I don’t have anyone there. I just want to go and see if I can better my life. I can’t continue living like a slave down here’’ I poured out softly.
‘’hmmmm you know what. You look hungry, let’s go to this small kiosk and eat. We can talk more there. I like helping people’’ he suddenly offered, lifting up my spirit. I smiled gratefully even though deep down I was equally a bit scared, because not only did he appear to be willing to assist me, he equally offered to buy me food which really was more than the help I expected. However I had no choice than to follow him.
We soon got to the small food kiosk where he ordered a plate of rice for me and a bottle of beer for himself, then watched me as I ate hungrily. I used the opportunity to tell him my story and he kind of appeared touched.
‘’anyway my name is Obiora. I’m a driver and I’m heading to Enugu city today, but the problem now is that time for my bus to load is a bit far. Six other buses will load before my turn but if you can have patience I can take you to Enugu and equally allow you stay in my house till you get a life for yourself’’ he offered, totally stunning me with his offer. I couldn’t believe it. I never expected him to help in such a way.
‘’thank you sir, thank you very much sir’’ I thanked him happily while he smiled with satisfaction and ordered another bottle of beer for himself. I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to his generosity.
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Val’s side of the story continues
I was restless all through the night as I thought of the young girl I almost knocked down the previous day. I just couldn’t sleep. Her image kept appearing in my head as if I owed her something. I tried very much to get my thoughts off her but just couldn’t. I even tried focusing my thoughts on my fiancée Jane who was coming down to the country the next day but my efforts were fruitless.
Prior to that day, I was living my dream life. I came from a very wealthy home, I had the best education anyone could dream of and equally was enjoying a very thriving writing career. I equally was engaged to the first daughter of a business tycoon. In fact had everything I could ever wish for but my life suddenly felt empty after seeing that young girl. It was just as if I was missing something. Yes something and it looked so very strange, very, very strange.
Early the next morning, without talking to anyone, I jumped into my car, left Enugu city and headed back to Nsukka in search of the young girl but unfortunately I drove round the town without seeing her. I didn’t even know her name and so looked a bit silly asking the villagers I met about her..
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Meanwhile unknown to Val, the young girl was already on her way to Enugu city with a stranger .

Stay tuned



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