The Trojan Biafrans!



No matter how anyone wants to look at it, the truth is that if there wasn’t an attack by the hoodlums whom we have mischievously chosen to christen UGM, there wouldn’t have been any death today in Orji.

The poor woman who sells Akamu who allegedly fell to stray bullets would have been alive this minute preparing her Akamu for tomorrow’s sales or even attending to one neighbor whose akamu suddenly finished this night. The man who gave up the ghost in the hospital after taking a stray bullet during that shootout would be with his family at this moment, quarrelling with his wife or playing with his young children.

If these criminal elements hadn’t come to show off, we wouldn’t have had a group of young men spending the night and probably set to spend weeks or even years behind bars, either as a result of mistaken identity or because they were truly involved in the criminality.

If the criminals hadn’t disrupted the fragile peace of that boisterous outskirt of our State capital, the child who has suddenly become motherless and the beautiful woman who has suddenly become a widow would be grinning from ear to ear tonight, looking forward to a bright tomorrow knowing that whatever little profit came from Mama’s akamu, there will be food for tomorrow and knowing that no matter how much they haggle, the husband will at least part with something, or at least a cuddle in this cold night.

If these hoodlums hadn’t disturbed the peace of Owerri, my friends who live in Orji would have probably been having some bottles of beer outside their houses and taking some fresh air. But, they won’t, for either the fear of another stray bullet or mistaken identity or just for the abundance of care.

If the criminals had left our little city, that town of my undergraduate days, if they had left Orji alone, the small pubs along the street would lift some stress off overburdened men and the operators would make some profit to buy Panadol for that nagging headache that could be something more serious.

But, the terrorists, criminals with guns they shouldn’t have, came and stole a mother, a son, a husband, a father. They came and stole our peace, our joy, our love and even our small hope.

They want to make us believe that they are our friends, that they are here to protect us, that they want to create a new nation of light and bright suns. They are not true! Listen not to them. They cannot create any beauty from the blood of the innocent. They cannot create equity with lies and deception. They cannot create prosperity with intimidation and dirty propaganda. They cannot love us and yet kill our brothers, our mothers, our sisters and destroy our incomes. They hate us, they are our enemies, they are criminals.

As tattered as the flag of our nation might be, we have no option but to rally behind her. Yes, the Nigerian flag is our only flag at this moment. As abusive as the police could sometimes be, they are better friends to us than these criminals. As wicked erratic as some of our soldiers could be, they are sure to shield us from trouble than the hoodlums who are looking for an opportunity to tape our daughters before our very eyes.

Brothers, this is not the Biafra our beloved Ikenga fought for, this is not the Biafra he invested his father’s wealth pursuing, this is not the Biafra that he and thousands of his comrades lost their youths for.

Dear sister, criminals can’t be of any good. Liberation fighters have a pattern. These guys are no liberation fighters, they are the same as the criminals that have been terrorizing us, they are seeking some popular endorsement of their hooliganism. Let us not be tempted into giving it to them.

Hey Son, these are trojan Biafrans. As in, they have come in the guise of Biafra, but they are our enemies. They are terrorists, not very different from Boko Haram. Theirs is a Trojan gift of an assumed freedom, but before our very eyes, they are tightening new chains on our ankles.

Please, Do Not Be Deceived!

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