We have not forgotten!
And nobody should forget!
Nobody should forget that some time ago in Nigeria, one of the most ravaging wars was fought. It became a holocaust! The Biafra “holocaust”!
Our country fell, the physical ruins were seen majorly in the East, the Biafran land, but the cultural, economic, social and polictical ruin, as well as the rot in the nation’s perception of patriotism was perpetually engrained in every inch of space that answered to Flora Shaw’s play on words “Nigeria” ,…..or maybe not perpetually, maybe someday, we’d truly come together, accept the past and forge a way ahead. A way that is not wrapped around the “me and my people perception”. A way that is not blinded by place of worship. A way that doesn’t mind if we wear tunics or jalabia or danchiki or isiagu, a way that allows a man sipping his kwunu to also relish the taste of palmwine without feeling like an outcast, a way that allowed us to mix Ewedu and Egusi but this time not in a restaurant as we are already doing (only to tickle our tongues) but in opinions, to show our tolerance. A way that gives rise to children with names such as Idowu Aliu Igbokwe and Abasifreke Oluwaseun Okoro-Sambo.
In those 3 years of the locust, we lost properties, we lost lives, we lost years of development we had achieved, and more terribly, we destroyed years of development we were yet to achieve
We lost something that is difficult to be won, we lost something that is not usually fought for, something that wells from deep within a man – We lost that blind, overwhelming, patriotic trust that moves nation’s forward, that love for a nation that surges in every true soldier’s veins and affords him the confidence to pay the supreme price for the benefit of his fatherland. And we’ve never gotten it back since then!
Now, to all these, we say ozoemezinaa!….. Let it not happen again!
We have fought physically, we are still fighting socially, economically and otherwise!
It is time to drop our weapons and truly give peace a chance!
May God rest the souls of the fathers who stepped out to defend their sons, the sons who were plucked from their mothers’ breasts and could barely hold a feeding bottle before being flung into battle, the mothers and wives who wailed their hearts apart as they were torn between mourning the death of their husbands and the impending destruction awaiting their little ones from the twin evil of hunger and diseases!
May God rest the souls we lost during the three locust years!