THERE IS AGONY, PAIN AND BLOODSHED IN BIAFRA
By Ifeanyi Chijioke and Chima Onyekachi
For Family Writers
I forcefully woke up from a nightmare, IPOB had strategically shut down Biafra land in a demonstration, and soldiers were patrolling to confront the situation, when I saw Soldiers, I decided to retreat into a nearby house but then a soldier saw me. He approached me and I told him I am not one of the protesters but I was shot and my left leg was damaged on the ground that I am an informant, even when I disclosed that I am a Journalist, it was a reason to shoot me to death.
I could not wait for them to blow off my brain and so I quickly jumped up on my bed, cuddling my pillow, trying to decipher the dream, will I be next in line as there is ongoing execution of Christians-Biafrans. Ifeanyi Chijioke of Family writers narrated. Previously, we had began an investigation into the massacre of Biafrans on their Heroes’ day, Chima Onyekachi and our investigator Chukwuemeka Nduka persisted to get every bit of it. Taking pictures of dead Biafrans in mortuaries and injured ones in hospitals. We had visited the first hospital we shall love to make anonymous to avoid risking it, a Biafran was lying cold in the mortuary, shot from his back, a deliberate or premeditated attack.
The mortuary attendants were sympathetic to us, I was already shedding tears but I opted to be a man, crying inside than crying outside. We had requested to take a full shot of where he was shot, the corpse was brought out and we did everything we asked for “He was shot while running, this is wickedness” they said. As irritated as, we were quick and the corpse was taken back, though we would be there someday but we never wanted to be there for now. We headed for another mortuary; three Biafrans were kept there, handsome and able bodied men. “All hail Biafra” the mortuary attendant greeted, “And Biafra will hail you” we responded. He quickly took us in for pictures, asking interrogatively, “Hope they are our journalists”.
We could not take sufficient pictures, this mortuary is not as standard as the first one we visited. By the time we had finished, our heads were spinning round and round, the odor from there and coupled with the experience left us shivering. At this point, we were asked if we want to see more but we were quick to note our satisfaction, who would want to see more of this horror? There is bloodshed in Biafra and it must not continue. Life is precious to every one of us, nobody has monopoly of violence and there is the need to call the murderous Nigerian President to order. These are innocent young men agitating within the ambit of law for self-determination and killing them has no justification whatsoever.
The Trip to hospitals where victims were being treated was not a smooth one, “Do not put names of hospitals in print, you will risk the hospitals and the victims” we were told as we were about to leave. We took off and approached the first hospital, “They are journalists” the skinny black man that brought us said. The victims adjusted their selves, waiting for pictures, we could see four victims in the ward we entered “There are plenty of us here, go up stair and you will see us, Buhari wanted to take my organ” he said raising his right leg to show us where bullet penetrated. IPOB had brought their daily meal, coolers were kept before us, “This is for those in ‘that’ hospital and those in the’ other’ hospital” one of the victims who could now work said, he stood from his bed and walked on to us “Thank God you are here, we shall be going tomorrow once our bill is paid” he said with uneasy gesture. Time was already against us, we headed for ‘that’ hospital with knowledge that we cannot make it to the ‘other’ one. The skinny man that brought us told us his story “I carried most of them to that place, they shot us mercilessly, I am supposed to be there but God saved me.
Had IPOB gave us even though four guns, they won’t kill us this much, we would fight back and over power them” he said with pity, wishing there was indeed a gun. We got to another hospital, very busy one; people walking to and fro, well wishers, prayer teams and siblings of admitted patients. We headed for the ward Biafrans were admitted, we met two victims on their bed, one was shot around his neck, we wondered how he was able to survive “They said they can’t do any surgery on me, the place the bullet entered is very dangerous. I have to be discharged and I will treat it traditionally, I am waiting for IPOB. Please help me and tell IPOB, my bill is thirty two thousand Naira” he pleaded, handing over to us his bill. We collected his bill with a promise that we would communicate to relevant authorities. Lying next to him is another injured Biafran, shot from the back and in serious pain, he managed to sit up but could not talk, groaning in pain and could not help himself. At the extreme of his bed is a Bible, every night he must be calling upon God to save his life. There is fear in his eyes as he positioned for a picture. “I will not relent; let those not injured keep the struggle alive.
I will come back to continue from where I stopped” he said amidst pain and we urged him to be strong and fearless, assuring him that he would be alright, that was the least we can offer . Another ward was due, before we could reach, their food was already being shared, looking strong and fulfilled; only one victim from Delta state was frowning. We approached him for questioning; he stared at us painfully and groaned in pain. “Can you talk to us?” we mildly asked, he was quiet at first, looking at us like we are fools, of course we understood what he was passing through. “What do you want me to say? My pipe is out of fit, I need a doctor to help me, the pain is much” he said angrily, we were not offended; pain is something that needs soothing approach. “We saw some people in the mortuary, you are lucky to still be feeling pains.
Let us thank Chiukwuokikeabiama” we told him calmly and he relaxed. We are done with him, asking him questions in such mood is provocative. We turned for another; he cannot hear again, his ear drum has been damaged; only one ear drum is functioning. With plaster circled his oval head, and his face significantly swollen. “Can you talk?” we asked, he nodded positively. He can talk but he could not talk “They shot me and I lost my ear and ear drum” he said, gesturing where and where it affected. Our attention was suddenly called when another victim shouted at us “Come and snap me and show the world what they are doing to us here” he said, looking very happy and ready. He sat gallantly on a chair instead of his bed, shot at his shoulder with a tiny opening and a burst-out wound around his arm pit. “They shot to kill us, they are murderers, they are cowards, fighting unarmed Biafrans, they cannot kill me and I will come out again.
Biafra or death, they are mad” he angrily said, bravery and vibrantly demonstrating. The last in the ward was a man in his forties, shot directly at his chest and we wondered how he survived. With his wife sitting beside him, he was smiling willingly as we approached him for a chat. He came down from Portharcourt for the Heroes’ day. “God called me for this agitation that I may join Nnamdi Kanu and save his people. There is no going back” he said before we could ask him any question. Turning to his wife we asked her of her reaction “He said God called him, I have tried to talk to him to give up but he wouldn’t. He said only death will stop him, I have lost my husband because they might kill him. I have only resorted to prayers, that God may protect him” she said pitifully.
However, we were already running behind schedule, we needed to meet other things, we turned to the skinny black man, before he could tell us where else to go and see other victims, we told him that we are already behind schedule and have to leave it for another day. Humanity is under extermination in this part of the world and everybody seems to be irresponsible. Lives of Biafrans are endangered in Nigeria, there is need for a sovereign state where right to live can be respected.
By Ifeanyi Chijioke and Chima Onyekachi
For Family Writers
I forcefully woke up from a nightmare, IPOB had strategically shut down Biafra land in a demonstration, and soldiers were patrolling to confront the situation, when I saw Soldiers, I decided to retreat into a nearby house but then a soldier saw me. He approached me and I told him I am not one of the protesters but I was shot and my left leg was damaged on the ground that I am an informant, even when I disclosed that I am a Journalist, it was a reason to shoot me to death.
I could not wait for them to blow off my brain and so I quickly jumped up on my bed, cuddling my pillow, trying to decipher the dream, will I be next in line as there is ongoing execution of Christians-Biafrans. Ifeanyi Chijioke of Family writers narrated. Previously, we had began an investigation into the massacre of Biafrans on their Heroes’ day, Chima Onyekachi and our investigator Chukwuemeka Nduka persisted to get every bit of it. Taking pictures of dead Biafrans in mortuaries and injured ones in hospitals. We had visited the first hospital we shall love to make anonymous to avoid risking it, a Biafran was lying cold in the mortuary, shot from his back, a deliberate or premeditated attack.
The mortuary attendants were sympathetic to us, I was already shedding tears but I opted to be a man, crying inside than crying outside. We had requested to take a full shot of where he was shot, the corpse was brought out and we did everything we asked for “He was shot while running, this is wickedness” they said. As irritated as, we were quick and the corpse was taken back, though we would be there someday but we never wanted to be there for now. We headed for another mortuary; three Biafrans were kept there, handsome and able bodied men. “All hail Biafra” the mortuary attendant greeted, “And Biafra will hail you” we responded. He quickly took us in for pictures, asking interrogatively, “Hope they are our journalists”.
We could not take sufficient pictures, this mortuary is not as standard as the first one we visited. By the time we had finished, our heads were spinning round and round, the odor from there and coupled with the experience left us shivering. At this point, we were asked if we want to see more but we were quick to note our satisfaction, who would want to see more of this horror? There is bloodshed in Biafra and it must not continue. Life is precious to every one of us, nobody has monopoly of violence and there is the need to call the murderous Nigerian President to order. These are innocent young men agitating within the ambit of law for self-determination and killing them has no justification whatsoever.
The Trip to hospitals where victims were being treated was not a smooth one, “Do not put names of hospitals in print, you will risk the hospitals and the victims” we were told as we were about to leave. We took off and approached the first hospital, “They are journalists” the skinny black man that brought us said. The victims adjusted their selves, waiting for pictures, we could see four victims in the ward we entered “There are plenty of us here, go up stair and you will see us, Buhari wanted to take my organ” he said raising his right leg to show us where bullet penetrated. IPOB had brought their daily meal, coolers were kept before us, “This is for those in ‘that’ hospital and those in the’ other’ hospital” one of the victims who could now work said, he stood from his bed and walked on to us “Thank God you are here, we shall be going tomorrow once our bill is paid” he said with uneasy gesture. Time was already against us, we headed for ‘that’ hospital with knowledge that we cannot make it to the ‘other’ one. The skinny man that brought us told us his story “I carried most of them to that place, they shot us mercilessly, I am supposed to be there but God saved me.
Had IPOB gave us even though four guns, they won’t kill us this much, we would fight back and over power them” he said with pity, wishing there was indeed a gun. We got to another hospital, very busy one; people walking to and fro, well wishers, prayer teams and siblings of admitted patients. We headed for the ward Biafrans were admitted, we met two victims on their bed, one was shot around his neck, we wondered how he was able to survive “They said they can’t do any surgery on me, the place the bullet entered is very dangerous. I have to be discharged and I will treat it traditionally, I am waiting for IPOB. Please help me and tell IPOB, my bill is thirty two thousand Naira” he pleaded, handing over to us his bill. We collected his bill with a promise that we would communicate to relevant authorities. Lying next to him is another injured Biafran, shot from the back and in serious pain, he managed to sit up but could not talk, groaning in pain and could not help himself. At the extreme of his bed is a Bible, every night he must be calling upon God to save his life. There is fear in his eyes as he positioned for a picture. “I will not relent; let those not injured keep the struggle alive.
I will come back to continue from where I stopped” he said amidst pain and we urged him to be strong and fearless, assuring him that he would be alright, that was the least we can offer . Another ward was due, before we could reach, their food was already being shared, looking strong and fulfilled; only one victim from Delta state was frowning. We approached him for questioning; he stared at us painfully and groaned in pain. “Can you talk to us?” we mildly asked, he was quiet at first, looking at us like we are fools, of course we understood what he was passing through. “What do you want me to say? My pipe is out of fit, I need a doctor to help me, the pain is much” he said angrily, we were not offended; pain is something that needs soothing approach. “We saw some people in the mortuary, you are lucky to still be feeling pains.
Let us thank Chiukwuokikeabiama” we told him calmly and he relaxed. We are done with him, asking him questions in such mood is provocative. We turned for another; he cannot hear again, his ear drum has been damaged; only one ear drum is functioning. With plaster circled his oval head, and his face significantly swollen. “Can you talk?” we asked, he nodded positively. He can talk but he could not talk “They shot me and I lost my ear and ear drum” he said, gesturing where and where it affected. Our attention was suddenly called when another victim shouted at us “Come and snap me and show the world what they are doing to us here” he said, looking very happy and ready. He sat gallantly on a chair instead of his bed, shot at his shoulder with a tiny opening and a burst-out wound around his arm pit. “They shot to kill us, they are murderers, they are cowards, fighting unarmed Biafrans, they cannot kill me and I will come out again.
Biafra or death, they are mad” he angrily said, bravery and vibrantly demonstrating. The last in the ward was a man in his forties, shot directly at his chest and we wondered how he survived. With his wife sitting beside him, he was smiling willingly as we approached him for a chat. He came down from Portharcourt for the Heroes’ day. “God called me for this agitation that I may join Nnamdi Kanu and save his people. There is no going back” he said before we could ask him any question. Turning to his wife we asked her of her reaction “He said God called him, I have tried to talk to him to give up but he wouldn’t. He said only death will stop him, I have lost my husband because they might kill him. I have only resorted to prayers, that God may protect him” she said pitifully.
However, we were already running behind schedule, we needed to meet other things, we turned to the skinny black man, before he could tell us where else to go and see other victims, we told him that we are already behind schedule and have to leave it for another day. Humanity is under extermination in this part of the world and everybody seems to be irresponsible. Lives of Biafrans are endangered in Nigeria, there is need for a sovereign state where right to live can be respected.
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