Distrust of the Igbos'; who is to blame?

During the weekend, I had the rare privilege to listen to one man whose name continually resounds in the history of Nigeria. I said rare, because who are you to say yes when NEPA says no? Anyway, it was the occasion of his 80th birthday and he was being interviewed by journalists who wanted to ask about the journey so far. I listened with bated breath because I knew there was no way the civil war would not come up.
Now, before this time, I had read from other sources (Chimamanda Adichie's Half of a yellow sun and Chinua Achebe's There was a country) and being my curious self, I wanted to get more facts in order to have my own version of the story never minding that I was born 2 decades after the war ended. So, you can imagine my joy and eagerness to hear about the "other" side of the story because my basis of knowledge initially was from the Igbos and you know what that means. I was already tailored to fault the Hausas and the Yorubas without hearing their side of the story.
The gentleman fondly called General Gowon started by saying that the whole brouhaha started when the revered leader of the Igbos went ahead of him and revealed the details of the Aburi accord before he as the Head of State had the chance to do so in a manner that was not so accurate. He also made me view the Igbo leader as someone who was power-hungry and was seeking for attention. Meanwhile, the massacre happening in the north where the Igbos' were the primary targets helped to fuel his ambition and that has led me to wander afresh what the true cause of the killings in the north was, in which pregnant women were ripped open, dismembered limbs and bodies were strewn everywhere and heads were severed from their bodies. Well, according to hearsay, the north had only political power and would stop at nothing to preserve that.
It was the announcement of a new country called Biafra that led to the senseless war when the Igbos' were not allowed to "divorce" Nigeria. The General was asked about the horrors that befell the Igbos and he said he was not directly involved with that and never gave his assent, but we all know that silence about atrocities committed by people under our control is tantamount to an indirect assent. He further exonerated himself by saying that those atrocities committed against the innocent and unsuspecting Igbos were the unfortunate consequences of war. It was the Igbos who were ‘none the wiser' (those whose case are like the grass that suffers when two elephants fight) about the political happenings that suffered the most; the rich ones simply travelled abroad to escape the madness that threatened to wipe out an entire race!
 While I do not intend to discredit this respected leader who has even decided to tell his side of the story and leave a lesson for posterity, I do however want to point out the fact that the Igbos' were robbed of a lot; their dignity, their trust, their wealth and their place in the scheme of things in Nigeria. Still reeling from the after-effects of the war, the Igbos were jostled out of their mourning to discover that they had lost the possessions they left behind while supporting a cause they believed in and had to start to "gather" again; they had simply gathered the first set of possessions for the "vultures" to pick! Still counting their losses and looking for missing family members, they awakened to a rude shock that all Igbos who had money in Nigerian banks before the war, should be given 20 pounds irrespective of the amount they had before the war! Despite the statement of the General that there was "no victor, no vanquished", it was plain to see by all that the Igbo's were indeed vanquished because not only were their houses taken over by others, their economic power was also wrenched away from them as they had no money to continue their enterprise. It was even more painful when they returned only to discover that Lagos had been a normal place where the residents had been living in peace without giving much thought to their sufferings. All these have made the average Igbo man distrustful and wary of inter-tribal interactions as he does not want history to repeat itself. Ever wondered why the average Igbo man would prefer to build a house in his village before building a house in Lagos or why he would prefer to "retire" to his village when he is old? It is because of how they were treated after the war and how their welfare was handled. Still smarting (stinging) from the loss of children, parents, identity and the nightmares of trying to escape mass destruction by shelling and choppers, they were left alone to grapple with the hard situations they found themselves in. Till date, some Igbos cannot talk about those horrific 30 months without tears springing to their eyes. Some have conveniently locked those memories while looking at the rest of the world with distrust. During my service year, I met an Igbo lady who said her father threatened to disown any of his daughters who would dare to marry outside of his tribe! This is an example of the height of the Igbos' distrust. The General however, tried his best to mitigate the effects of the war and that brought about the birth of NYSC in 1973 which is aimed at bringing about unity and helping people appreciate other people's cultures which was successful until the gubernatorial elections in 2011 when killings arose in the north again this time, killing crops members. (What an irony! The object of peace is now an instrument of disunity). It is sad to note that the issues that brought about the civil war are still present and plague us till date. Those issues threaten to plunge us into chaos all over again because people are still killed along religious and ethnic lines for reasons as simple as minor disagreements.
My advice is this, we ought to forget the past and move on because keeping these hurts only makes us potential beasts waiting as predators to unleash terror on anyone who dares encroach on our rights. Our pains must be set aside and we must see all that happened as the price we paid for a greater, better Nigeria while hoping that our present leaders reflect on all these and tread softly as whatever they do, will be recorded in the annals of history. Also, they should endeavour to leave memoirs of their political sojourn so that we can understand what they did, how they did it, for whom they did it and with whom they did it.

Fresher's wish

 Whenever matriculation is near, fond memories come back with nostalgia. I remember sitting in the MBA hall in LASU, promising God and my parents [even though they were not there], that I would read for 6 hours a day and that I would have a perfect CGPA. However, it’s been 2 years, 7 months since that day and I haven’t sat down to read for 3 hours at a stretch [except for professional exams]. I begin to wonder where my determination is. Does that mean I have lost my focus and will no longer be an intellectual? Heck, no!  I hope to graduate with at least second class [upper] from my department and this should be the dream of every serious-minded student. Your dreams of being the best in your class may not have come true, but you can take your place in the class and walk tall especially when you have worked honestly from the start.
To the staylites who have not achieved their dreams, do not relent. Lots of people wouldn’t have given up at the brink of success if only they had known. Thomas Edison defined intelligence as “1 percent inspiration and 99 percent perspiration”. You have to keep believing that you will reach the top and that you will make the news someday and truly, you will.
To the freshmen, this is the opportunity that you have to achieve greatness. Engaging in activities that will not help your stay on campus should be strictly avoided. Many have lost their studentship and even their lives to cultism, sexual harassment and its attendant results, expulsion and a host of other shameful occurrences.  The saying among students that, “The higher you go, the tougher it becomes”, is an adage that is very true. Many a times, I long for those 100 level days when all I had to do was cram objective answers and have my A’s, now, I can no longer have those. I must understand every underlying principle behind every account I am posting.
So, make the best use of the time you have. You can have an influence on your GP now than when there is little or no time to think of it. Abraham Lincoln said “Always bear in mind that your own resolution to succeed is more important than any other”. A word they say is enough for the wise.

Seasons of my life 2

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Seasons of my life - 2
Hard work as the name implies, is not easy at all and it comes before success, even in the dictionary. That was the conclusion I came to while preparing for my exams (ICAN). I was so eager to taste my newly-found freedom I got as a fresh graduate that I began a count-down to the day of my exam (never mind that I was not fully prepared), and always imagined the long hours of sleep I would indulge in. I also had visions of fairly gorging myself on different foods I had missed while away from home and told anyone who cared to listen that I couldn’t wait to write this exam. I repeated this so often to people especially students that were still undergraduates to the extent that they started having visions of when they too would taste their freedom.  So you can imagine the overwhelming sense of freedom I felt as I stepped out of the exam hall that Wednesday; I felt like a captive finally free as I trekked to the bus-stop. Immediately my quote changed to “rest is sweet after labor”.
However on getting home, and “resting” for a few days, I realized that I wanted to be positively engaged. I began to get bored and felt like a failure for laying low and doing nothing but eat, read, do house-chores and prepare dinner; all in that order. My  saving grace was that I went to my aunt’s place to let off steam and boy, I became engaged when I discovered a film series titled Grey’s Anatomy, which I love to pieces. I became positively engaged again as I began to learn new things, medical jargon mostly, which led me to begin to research on careers like Cardiothoracic surgery not minding that the actress who played that part was just being good at her job and also, it will take years of study which I just got a break from and a lot of money to become one. This quickly became my daily and nightly routine; wake, pray, eat, watch film with little interruptions when I had to go to school for clearance.
I soon got tired of this routine after I finished 8 seasons of my beloved film series and was in a hurry to accomplish the next challenge. I looked forward to NYSC as the only saving grace from boredom not minding what friends said about camp being a mini-prison where you had to do the bidding of warders in form of soldiers. This made me put more effort in the clearance process so that I could be mobilized at the right time. My camp experiences, I save for another

Exam

Charging like a raging bull,

It keeps many wide awake.

Students keep vigil and pore over books like determined gold-diggers.

It’s about the #45,000 scholarship.

For those who care anyway!

Mouths water at its mention like a continental dish.

Alas! Only a few will taste of its savoury contents.

Seasons of my Life

There is time for everything so says the holy writ and as I write, I have no choice than to agree with those wise words. Time has flown like birds in flight migrating to warmer climates during winter and the reality stares me in the face as I near the completion of my university education. Nostalgic you might call this feeling but do you really think I long for the days I struggled to gain admission into a university even if it was just to study “Yoruba engineering” or “toilet administration” and the rest of them all in a bid to “leave home”? (As if I would not graduate eventually). Rather, I dread the days that will come when I have to prove to friends and foes alike that I graduated with a good grade and when I have to “deliver” like “danfo-drivers” at the end of each working day. Not that I do not want to bring forth the dividends of my coveted university education; the dread comes from discovering suddenly that I am of age and that I am solely responsible for myself while loved ones will have to respect the choices I will make. The time when responsibility lies squarely on my shoulders, as loved ones expect that I join the throng of 9-6 workers everyday and hit the jackpot quickly because I had an education. The times when family members will regale me with tales of people who “made it” 6 months after graduation and who now live big in high-brow areas. However, some might not be even as lucky as I, because there will be additional pressure from parents to find Mr. or Miss perfect quick before the clock stops ticking altogether and so that they can carry their grandchildren before they pass on.

I have therefore decided to find solace in the one-year compulsory youth service and let my life be regulated by angry barks of soldiers shouting commands and terrifying people like me who have never had contact direct with one before, light-outs, parade marches, endurance treks, standing for hours in a place where the sun decides to show its skill, camp-nights and so on. At least, I’ll get the freedom to live without too many cares again for a year and I know I’ll cross every bridge when I get there. After all, it’s not like I wouldn’t be paid any “allowee” or would I be called an “otondo” for nothing?

Tales of a Dreamer



On my matriculation day.

When I was young, I had tall dreams. I wanted to be everything; doctor today, lawyer tomorrow, pilot the day after, etc. and this continued even until my secondary school days. I was in science class for a day before I “ran” to commercial class (I left for fear of physics and chemistry). I never went near art class because of my fear of history. It seemed the only dates I could retain in my brain then, were the dates of independence and the amalgamation of the northern and southern protectorates (never minding who did it)!

While in commercial class, Accountancy was the craze not minding the fact that mathematics was not a favourite subject of mine. I studied it out of fear of my math teacher then who did not hesitate to use the cane and well too! However, I was not the only pupil in this “valley of indecision”; I had class-mates who also holidayed there. Many of them wanted to study courses just because of how it sounded. One of my class-mates then, when asked during a career talk held just before the resumption into the senior secondary class, said she wanted to be a “Business-administrator”. I was startled, yet impressed.  Here was a girl who knew already what she wanted to be while I was still “gallivanting” and going on excursions to different classes! I was therefore disappointed when I heard her say that she did not mean it as she only said that to impress the teachers and that she did not even know what the occupation was all about (she eventually studied Economics). It was then I knew there was nothing wrong with me; I was normal after all. I only wanted to be the best I could possibly be (I finally settled for Accountancy).

This dilemma continued even after I chose Accountancy due to the many JAMB exams I wrote and was almost about to study English language (I thought all they did was “blow” grammar and didn’t appreciate the course until I met with undergraduates of English). I eventually gained admission to study my dream course only to meet course-mates who wanted to study accounting too, because it was the craze and because it sounded like a VISA to greatness (never minding the fact that there were thousands of accounting graduates yet to secure meaningful employment). It was not until my third year, when the courses became technical, that my level adviser advised those who couldn’t cope to transfer to department which were seemingly “less technical” than mine. However, I stuck to my guns and graduated from my department and was till surprised to discover that I had so many occupations tugging at my heartstrings. I wanted to be a photographer, writer, auditor, fashion designer, musician, all at once and only stopped adding to the list when a close-friend told me I couldn’t be everything and that I had to pick two or three areas to specialise in!

Well, I have stopped adding to the list else, I would have added Engineering too. I have decided to select a few from my crazy list, follow my dream and find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I have made up my mind to be the best in a few areas than dabble unsuccessfully into all while remembering that “life may put you where you least expect, but you must have faith that you are exactly where you are meant to be” and that the difference between a successful person and others is not a lack of strength, not a lack of knowledge, but rather a lack of will. –Vince Lombardi.