1967: Like an abusive husband who would kill if divorced, the Nigerian federal government was ready to shoot the Igbo into submission if they separated from the rest of the country. On the one hand, Nigeria was hunting and killing Igbos everywhere, but on the other hand they were going to war to keep the Igbos from separating.
As is often the case in abusive relationships, there was a reason why separation was a deadly option: the country’s rich oil fields lie primarily in eastern Nigeria. The Igbo are likely to retain this resource to the detriment of the rest of Nigeria. The West, i.e. Britain, being the perfect example of greedy imperialists, an ally of the Northern Nigerian oligarchs and ultimately an enemy of the Igbo, was heavily intoxicated with Nigerian oil.
Yakubu Gowon was leading Nigeria and its surrogates, the Hausa tribe and to some extent the Yoruba tribe, against Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu who was leading the Igbo resistance and survival efforts.
May 1967: In the first week or so, when he was still Chief Chancellor at the Nigerian Embassy, Washington DC, but in name only, having been stripped of all duties and functions, and relocated to an empty third floor, Austine SO Okwu received a phone call from Godwin, the Secretary to the Governor of the Eastern Region of Nigeria, His Excellency Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu.
Days after the call, Austine tossed some of his favorite pants and shirts, a gray hat embroidered on both sides and a red dome-shaped hat, into a brown suitcase and headed back to Enugu, in eastern Nigeria.
I asked the teacher: ‘What made you start this journey to eastern Nigeria, at a time when everyone else was trying to get out? The federal army would surely attack Enugu and behead the Igbo by disabling their capital. For someone to choose to travel into danger goes against accepted wisdom.
Austin: ‘I did it because of the love I had for my people and the admiration I have for the Igbo people. Going to Enugu a couple of months before the war was a walk in the park when you consider what I did during the war: flying in a little rusty plane, stuck between the armory and the relief food, and not knowing if I’d make it out with life. .’
Tell me about the mood of the town and the people when you arrived in Enugu.
‘Chaos, similar to any other refugee crisis. There were people everywhere, displaced Igbos from northern and western Nigeria, people who had lost family members or were searching for a missing child or parent. As you know, my dear Anselm, many of our people lived outside Igboland and still do, without learning their lesson. Our people were everywhere in the north and west of Nigeria. They had to return home to escape death, some returning home for the first time. More than thirty thousand Igbos lost their lives. You saw the sadness on many faces. People felt the omen in the air, like a sodden cloud waiting for a downpour. What they did not foresee was the extent of the calamity.
For a second, a memory came to him and he paused momentarily. ‘A notable exception was civil servants. I was proud of them. Poise was what I saw in them. They were stoic and ready to serve the people. Their body language radiated confidence, preparedness, empathy and generosity, and that they were capable of helping refugees coming from northern and western Nigeria.”
Ojukwu and Austine face to face a month before the civil war between Nigeria and Bifra
May 13, 1967: The sun had begun to set when Austine arrived at Enugu’s secretariat. Help was waiting. Once behind the main iron gate and inside the main building, the deputy and Austine walked side by side through a dimly lit hallway with several doors, none of which were open.
Both men stopped where the corridor ended, and Austine looked at a sign near the top section of a large door: His Excellency Governor Chukwuemeka Ojukwu.
Two assist hits. Half a minute or so later, the door opened.
“Welcome to Enugu, Austine,” Ojukwu said, nodding. He grabbed his visitor’s hand and shook it eleven times. ‘Good luck,’ said the aide and closed the door on him.
Austine had a fraction of a second to study and survey her host and immediate surroundings. ‘After all,’ her mind told him, ‘this is wartime; a lamb can quickly turn into a lion.’ She had entered a room of moderate size; there were twelve padded chairs with armrests around a huge central wooden table, on which was an open pack of Marlborough cigarettes. Her host was dressed in civilian clothes with a short-sleeved brown suit, buttoned to the level of the collarbone, and spoke in a civil tone.
‘Thank you very much, Your Excellency, for having me,’ Austine replied, returning the hand pump with a few of her own. Up close, Ojukwu was hairier than Austine imagined. When he nodded, his barrel-shaped beard reached to his navel.
Ojukwu dragged two padded chairs to a far corner of the room and sat down on one of them. Austine claimed the other chair. They both faced each other, knees apart.
‘First,’ His Excellency said, ‘thank you for sending us excerpts of public and newspaper views on the Nigeria-Biafra conflict. On his own initiative, he searched, collected, and sent us his views on how the United States, and indeed the world, views the chaos and bloodshed in Nigeria. You are a true Igbo son who loves the Igbo and understands their situation and purpose.
‘Austine,’ Ojukwu continued, his voice still courteous, although his gaze was penetrating and did not flicker like lightning from a nearby star, ‘the reason I called you is to ask if you would consider transferring your skills and experiences of serving to Nigeria. to serve your people, your beleaguered Igbo people.
Following the request, the Governor moved slightly to the right of his chair. ‘Our sons and daughters, our women and children are undergoing tremendous tribulations, torments and trials. Austine, I need to know that I can count on you, that the Igbo can count on you.
Austin listened and thought at the same time, not wanting to interrupt. His mind searched for clues. If only he could see all of Ojukwu’s heart’s content. All sacrifice eventually turns into selfishness, doesn’t it? Why would this moment be an exception?
As Austine thought, she straightened her back and rubbed her palms together several times. Ten crossed fingers of hers rose into the air, and five of her fingers patted the gray domed hat, felt the side embroidery of it. With her eyes fixed on the Governor, she said, her tone blunt, deliberate, and yet diplomatic:
‘Your Excellency, you know there is no burden I would not bear for the Igbos. You could have chosen many other men and women, some more educated, more connected and wealthier than me, but instead you chose me. I will serve the Igbo to the best of my ability.
Satisfied, Ojukwu exposed some of his upper teeth and allowed a few blinks. He suddenly stood up and lightly hugged SO. He then walked three steps to the huge center table, selected a cigarette and tapped the end several times on the table, but didn’t light it.
“Besides, Austine,” His Grace began again after sitting down, “I’m going to need you in London.” You have to go back to London. I’m asking too much, I know. It’s only been twelve months since you left London for the States, but I’m going to need you to come back. I have confidence in you, Austine, and I am so glad you have agreed to join the Igbo struggle.
I asked the teacher, ‘What was Ojukwu’s general behavior during the meeting? He pounded the table with his fist many times, ready for war? Did he mourn, did he cry?
Answer: ‘At our meeting, Ojukwu was calm. If he had any emotion, he didn’t show it. One thing I can say about Emeka Ojukwu is that he could control his emotions very well, turning them on when needed and cooling down at the appropriate times.’
Before Austine SO Okwu left the secretariat, he wrote a letter resigning from Nigeria’s foreign service, effective June 1, 1967, and gave the letter to Ojukwu Secretary Godwin Onyegbula for forwarding to Lakes. He had a new mission: to go to London and establish a diplomatic mission in Biafra.
On May 20, 1967, seven days after meeting Ojukwu, Austine arrived in London. Seventeen days later, on May 30, 1967, Ojukwu declared the formation of the Republic of Biafra and the battle line was drawn. Less than two months later, on July 6, 1967, the Nigeria-Biafra civil war began.
Postscript: If there was a place in Nigeria’s past that I wish I were, it is the moment when Emeka Ojukwu convinced Austine Okwu to assume the most influential diplomatic position on behalf of the Igbo. It’s hard to see what was in the Governor’s heart as he discussed the situation with Austine. Was the Governor clandestine, as many military leaders are, in revealing the real state of affairs, his true intentions and strategies, or was he making decisions as events unfolded? One result was clear; he convinced the diplomat, now a professor, to switch from serving Nigeria to serving the Igbo cause. Millions of other Igbo in their various professions did the same and made great personal sacrifices during the civil war.
FINAL