On Biafra: The Freedom You Wanted Was Now Your New Found Prison

Before you talk about fighting and shedding innocent blood, have you thought about how many families are hurting with this Biafra issue?

One morning, you happened to wake up earlier than usual because of the gunshot all through the night. Mama was suppose to come wake you this morning, but she didn’t. You thought, perhaps she slept late. You left your room and went to mama’s room, but she was no where to be found.

You listened but couldn’t hear your crazy dads radio that always wake you up in the morning with Biafra news. You thought, perhaps, dad had slept late too like mom.

Your beautiful little sister who always come to your room every morning with her assignment did not come. Perhaps, she slept late too.

You crept out of your bed, everyplace was noisy, but you heard nothing in particular. At first it was gunshot, and then, people started crying. You looked through your window and saw dead bodies on the street, and some running. Fear griped you.

You walked out through the door and found your dad, laying on his own pool of blood, his hand was cut off from his body. His eyes wide open, his four fingers on the radio laid by his side.  Daddy! Daddy!! you cried walking close to him.

You noticed another dead body,you walked closer. Jesus! it was mama, mama’s head was sliced off from her body, her tongue pulling out like the dog, okon the bar man kills everyday.

You turn and see your  little sister, her stomach had been divided, her young intestine falling off, like in American movies you watch. You broke down in tears, you knew it was going to happen but not this soon, you needed your own country Biafra, but not in exchange of your happiness.

Your gate man, Musa who use to respect and call you small oga, was seen coming with a group of other boys with matchet and guns. It was obvious he had killed your mother and dad. Another group of young boys emerged from the corner of the street. You know him, Emeka your friend with others boys you have never seen before. They were with bare bodies, blood splashed over their face. They looked fierce and their eyes were blazing.

Before you knew it, the two groups engaged in a physical combat. Musa’s hand was cut off, as he laid lifeless on his pool of blood. Emeka moved closer to him and sliced his stomach opened. Die! Die!! Ewu Hausa!!!, he screamed. Tearing him up in anger.

“Stand up, the war has come, we must fight for biafra, it our birth right “, he said as he approached you. By now, your eyes were very red. He jerked you up forcefully. “You have to be a man”, he said. “Look at my parent, my sister!”, you cried. “My man, we have to fight for our freedom, we have to go now, the Zoo Army are coming”, he said.

He dragged you with him as you ran looking back, your two story building was set ablaze by the angry Hausa soldiers. Your dad had used his last serving to build the house. All your valuables, your certificate your expensive clothes were all burnt to ashes.

As you ran, you saw many corpse on the road. Nkechi the pregnant woman was laying in her pool of blood, her foetus and intestine removed. You close your eyes in disgust and sadness.

You saw Amara, your childhood friend, tears rolled down your cheek. Her genitals were cut opened. “You don’t have to cry, you are a man”, Emeka shouted as he ran.

Bomb exploded everywhere. People ran helter shelter looking for cover, and every step they took, they were getting few steps to their grave.

You ran until you couldn’t run anymore, you were thirsty but Emeka urged you to run further lest the bombs fall on you. You cried as you ran. And then you saw Caro, your girlfriend, your only source of happiness. She was laying on her own pool of blood. You fell down and wept more. “It’s the sacrifices we have to make”, Emeka said as he dragged you away from that spot.

You wanted Biafra but not in exchange of your happiness and loved ones. You lost your freedom and luxurious life in exchange for Biafra. “It’s the prize you have to pay for if you want your freedom”, Emeka whispered to you.

Yes! Emeka’s parent had flown out of the country the previous week. He refused to go with them just because he wanted to fight for freedom.

The freedom you wanted was now your new found prison. You ran until you couldn’t breathe anymore. You fell and breathe your last breath. The war has begun, you had anticipated it. Just as the beginning you couldn’t make it. Mama and Papa died and your sister too. Oh sweet Caro! Like the rest, she was no more. You gave up the ghost..


©2017 Core Magazine Africa

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I am the Founder and Executive Editor of Core Magazine. I hold a Bachelors Degree in History and International Studies from Bowen University. I am the Author of "DARE TO RESEARCH". I have written and published over 16 Academic Research Articles. I believe in an ideal that all persons irrespective of their race, class or status can influence the society with creative writings and constructive thoughts to the point where they can succeed and develop their skills to seize rare opportunities.

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