A trip to Ibadan for an Owambe party

It was in this innocuous manner that Mr. Tokunbo Ajayi found his soul infested with an uncontrollable desire to understand the mysterious and beautiful room mate of his lover.  Although he was wont to admit this unhealthy passion to himself, nor to anyone else for that matter, his curiosity remained as a snake hidden in the grass of the lawn of his heart at mid day.  At best a nuisance to all, and at worst a potent lethal force which could decimate an erstwhile happy being and bring it to a sudden premature demise.  And as most people, he had no difficulty in excusing his weakness in a variety of ways; it was never that he pursued the friendship of Bola for his own selfish intentions, no, it was in the interest of his relationship with Yetunde that he ‘ felt a need to be friendly with the room mate’.  Furthermore, when he invited the girl out to follow the couple in a very unwholesome threesome, it was because it would be rude to ‘ invite Yetunde and not the room mate Bola’.   As such, the three could often be seen going out to eat on weekends together. The young girl Yetunde, in her inexperience did not notice any difference in her lover, nor did she notice that her room mate was more available than usual on the weekends when Tokunbo came from Lagos.  One thing had surprised her, and that was on the one occasion when Bola knew that Tokunbo was spending the weekend in Kaduna, a fact which Yetunde had not elicited until after the fact.   Mr. Tokunbo Ajayi continued relentlessly in this course,seemingly totally oblivious to the fact that the most beautiful girl on campus had a considerable entourage of her own suitors, of whom Bayo was only one of many.  In a strange sequence of events the situation finally came to a head.  As customary, Mr. Tokunbo Ajayi had arrived in Ife on a Friday afternoon, and had promised to take Yetunde and Bola for the weekend to Ibadan, where the girls would share a room and he had arranged to stay with a friend of his as his friends father was having a fiftieth birthday.  There was going to be a large owambe party, with a live band, and it promised to be a nice weekend.  He had also booked a day at the golf club and hoped that they could swim in the hotel pool.  On arriving in Ife he had discovered that Bola had gone to London for the weekend with Bayo.

“Hello, darling,” he had greeted Yetunde with a kiss on her cheek, and he cursorily surveyed the room, “ are you and Bola ready for our great weekend in Ibadan?”

Yetunde smiled, “I am ready, but Bola has traveled with Bayo to London for the weekend.”

“To London for the weekend? Who on earth can afford to go to London for a weekend? You keep talking about this boyfriend Bayo, but we never see him, and every time I have suggested that we all go out together there is an excuse for why he cannot make it.”

Then he continued with anger, and he slapped his hand against her desk, “This is exactly the kind of behavior that I hate; she promised to attend the party with us and I was going to introduce her to my friends. Why could she not just have refused the invitation?”  Then he was told that the invitation to London had come suddenly the night before, and this only served to deepen his suspicions even more.

“No one can afford to buy an airline ticket the day before the flight! Not unless such a person has a lot of money.  Who is this Bayo anyway? What is his last name?” “ “ What does he do?” And Yetunde, who had only met the man twice before, and knew none of the answers. And then she spilled the beans, the man was married, at least that was what she thought, and he her understanding was that he was one of the richest men in Lagos.

And Tokunbo mentioned all the popular names, one by one, and for all Yetunde could guess she did not think the name belonged to him.

“How can she have a man coming over here and none of you know his last name? For all you know the name Bayo may not even be his name at all, he could be operating under an alias.”

The young Yetunde who was by now nearly in tears, said nothing.

“Now tell me where in Lagos does he live?”

“I don’t know,”

“Have they never invited you to follow them out?  I find that hard to believe..”

“Actually I was invited once to follow them to a party in Ikeja, and ever since then I have refused their invitations. However, I am certain that the party in Ikeja was at his friends house, and of that I am certain because I saw the pictures of the husband and wife on the wall and the man was not Bayo.”

“Where was the wife of the host? don’t tell me that she was there because I will not believe it, this is beginning to sound like a sugar daddy party whilst the wife is out of town.”

“I came to the same conclusion myself, as there were many old men there and none of them with their wives, and all the girls were at least twenty years younger than all the men.”

“I cant believe that you Yetunde, of all people would attend such a party.”

“I can hardly be blamed as I was told that this was just a regular birthday party and to be held in Lagos.  It was after that that I suspected that Bayo was married, although he never said so to me nor did Bola ever say it either.”

By this time Mr. Tokunbo Ajayi found himself more flustered and piqued  than he cared to admit.  With a lost and disappointed look on his face he sat himself down on the chair by the desk of Bola, and unable to hide his emotions from his fiancée he said, “ Never mind, please forgive me for that outburst.  You are now seeing a side of me you never knew existed, I make plans, and I am rigid in their execution. I find what she has done to be dishonest, to say yes to an invitation and then to cancel at the last minute after receiving a ‘better’ invitation. That is something I could never do, nor do I tolerate such behavior in my friends.”

Yetunde who was surprised at the outburst had now recovered her composure, and she was wearing a white lace wrapper up and down  which was covered in small silver studs forming a picture of a small flower at regular intervals.  On her head she wore a sky blue head-tie, and she carried a cloth over her shoulder which matched the head-tie and was a blue lace. She stood before the mirror on her wall and applied the last touches to her make up, some bronzer for her cheeks,and a deep burgundy red for her lips.  With that accomplished she slipped her feet into a pretty blue satin slipper which matched the head-tie and scarf.  The transformation of the young girl into a woman of the world on her way to a owambe party was complete.

Fully aware of her charming transformation she sauntered up to her lover and placed her hand on his cheek, “Come now, Toks don’t tell me you will sulk the whole evening for Bola tonight.  I am nearly jealous of her, but I know you invite her out of kindness.  Believe me, Bola has no shortage of invitations…you have not met Alex yet.”

He seemed to not be interested in pursuing the matter any further, and he stood up and picked up her overnight bag and her small suitcase, and stood at the door to wait for her.

“You look beautiful tonight…” and he gave her a kiss which lingered on her cheek for a moment, “ Come to think of it, I have never seen you in iro and buba. Ah my fine wife..”

“I picked this lace to match your white agbada that you wore at your moms luncheon, nothing quite like doing a ‘his and hers’ with matching outfits to give your friends some excitement.”

Even he could not fail to see the humor that lurked behind the words.  He laughed, because today was supposed to be a big day where he unofficially introduced his ‘fiancée to be’ to his friends at the owambe party.  The introductions of Bola was supposed to have been a side track but for a moment had seemed as if it were to have been the primary event of the evening.

       

Reyka, by unknown

A lush green of evanescent firs lace the landscape of seasoned auburn.
Despite their weariness and frailty the journey was commenced upon.
In prayer,a drowning flame in seas of wax the duo reaches it's zenith.
The travails of the past welling up, swelling to a bursting point.
The first toll-gates surmounted, calm was called upon,
to ensnare the bitter memories of long gone.
Silence and the reverberating echoes of such,
dotted in clamorous vibrattoes of love lost and gained, joy and pain.
No redemption to be had as they'd lost and must from love refrain
as they stubbornly embark on the journey to appraise the second toll,
and be appraised by the gate keeper,hope dwindles as a newborn
before term gasping for life within it's isolated world
of glass,plastic and cords, chords struck yet unheard.
Love reaches a crescendo sans our duo and loneliness head is reared.

Ijeoma and Chioke part 3

On the following night he came in late again, and she came dutifully to sit beside him at the table as he ate.
" How was work today? ", she asked feigning interest.
" You know Ijeoma, amazingly enough, it is going well.  The roads are so bad here that the tires wear so quickly.  So while the whole country is tightening their belt, we will loosen ours." he said finally managing to smile.  "However, my love," he continued mischeviously,"if one were trying to judge our success by the quantity of meat  you serve at table one would be hard pressed to not believe that we are near destitute."
At this she could not help but lsugh herself.  For all the meat he wanted at table he was not ready to raise the housekeeping allowance by a single kobo.  So the pieces of meat remained as tiny fragments floating in the soup.  On Sundays they would kill a whole chicken.
It was as if the conversations they were capable of had become superficial and impersonal.  No longer did they even attempt to probe into the unchartered seas of feelings and emotions.  They had long since given up on sailing such dangerous seas.  The question of who had stopped sailing first was a matter of conjecture.  She felt that he did not care to hear about her " oyinbo" feelings, as he called them.  For his own part, he felt that at this point in their marriage any discussion of feelings would be perceived as weakness, and there is nothing more dreaded in Igbo land than a man who is weak.
So, it was not so much that he did not love his wife of fourteen years, as it was that he did not know how to show the emotion.  In his own mind, the fact that he stayed on in his marital home was in and of itself proof of his love.  Surely the only reason he stayed on was for love; for physical atttraction between the two of them had long since been replaced by a stolid but undeniable complacenecy.  It was not that he suppressed these physical feelings, but rather he had conveniently found other outlets for his passion, and they were many.
In Miranda's company it was as if Chioke sparked to life.  For as long as she could please him physically their relationship was emotionally healthy and fulfilling.  She was barely twenty years old and his personal secretary.  The daily temptation of her lithe limbs and slim waist at the office had roused in him a desire that had to be fulfilled.  In this way, it was hard for him to say if he was in lust or in love.   For the line between lust and love is at best a blurry one.  Youth was not her only advantage over Ijeoma.  Her spirit also had this joyful joie de vivre which the much older Chioke found irresistible.  She would squeal with delight at the chinese restaurant in New Haven.  The time they had spent in London together had been an experience rivalling his honey moon.  There had been Champagne bubbles all the way there, and Ah! What passion.  He still had dreams of their Harrods shopping trip and visit to Buckingham Palace, and Madame Tussauds.
After their return to Nigeria it seemed to them that this shared experience had brought them even closer.  She had acquired a considerable wardrobe of silks, and skirts and blouses.  In addition, she now affected, to the best of her ability,an english/american accent.  This had partly been picked up from the trip, and the rest she had fabricated from the american movies she had seen at the cinema.  While he was in her company, he saw himself again as the Chioke of his youth albeit with a now watered down conscience which allowed him to freely indulge in fornication. All these passions which had been so carefully guarded in his youth were now given free reign in his middle aged body.  At times he felt bothered in his conscience but as time passed these feelings of unease became rarer until they desisted completely.
Ijeoma and Chioke had not shared a bedroom since Nkechi was conceived, a good 7 years ago.  This drastic measure had been deemed necessary by both of them in order to prevent them from having any more children.  But the reason of financial necessity limiting their ability to provide for more children had long since changed.  However,even with the reversal of their fortunes it seemed that the tides had changed.  In this callous way he never asked of his wife if she desired him, and he, with his passions well satisfied elsewhere felt no need to desire her.

Ijeoma and Chioke part two.

Papa Edward:
Uneducated as he was, Papa Edward,was not only fiercely brilliant but also one of those men who could truly be described as self made.  At the age of thirteen he had left his home town of Awka, and had proceeded to Onitsha,with barely ten shillings in his pocket.   He had stayed with his cousin Alphonsus in a shed near the market.  They had toiled night and day,initially as truck pushers.  And eventually they had opened up thier own stall, selling tires for bicylcles, and later for cars.  To cut a long story short, now Papa Edawrd was the sole proprietor of Diamond Tires Inc, and hwas one of the sole distributors of tires to Uwani and Awkunanaw.  All the finesse he lacked in manners, he made up for with a heart of gold.   He was one of those truly naiive human beings who has never given up on the human condition; one of those rare people who one could not help but like him if one knew him.
  To the civil servants of Enugu, he may have been an embarrassment; but when back home in Awka, let the truth be told, there was no door that was not open to him.  Infact, his house rivalled the palace of the chief, and there was no function to which Edward, or rather Obi Okeke( as he was known basck home) was not invited to.  He belonged to Ndi Ozo.  He gracefully wore his red hat with feather on top, and waved his fan as they proceeded to satte functions.  All along beside him, there was Mama EWlisabeth, dressed in her off brown George wrapper embroidered with red and gold threads, with a matching purple head tie, and her gold slippers from India, covered with sequins and beads.   Mama Elisabeth was no fool either.  She had attended teacher training college in those old days, when many young ladies never learnt to read or write.  She had also been a beauty in her day.  She was, with the long lithe limbs that igbo men seem to prefer.  Her skin was fair, and her skin tone was even.  even at the end of middle age it was obvious that here was a lady who had commanded attention in her own day.
Beyond a question of a doubt, Mama Elisabeth had married beneath herself, in the sense that she was far better educated than her husband.  However, for someone whose sole motivation had been to marry the man with the fattest purse, she had done quite well.  She knew quite well, that the weaknesses of rich men are far better tolerated than the shortcomings of poor men.  True, Chief Obi Okeke spoke halting english;but when he was at home in the village speaking his native tongue of Igbo, he could weave the most elaborate of tales using all the requisite proverbs which to them signified a " cultured" man, well versed in the world.  No longer did he appear small in her eyes, but rather as a giant of literature, receiving the Nobel prize in Oslo, or as Mark Antony at his peech to the senate after the death of Ceasar.On those times, her chest puffed up with pride, and the sweat poured down her forehead in the sweltering heat.  The sweat turned to rivers running down the mountains of brownpowder on her cheeks.  She would then bring out her chinese fan, and fan herself with extreme vigor, as if by this action she could keep the pride from swelling any further in her chest.  Later on as the inevitable crowds pressed close to her husband to greet him, she walked with her head held up high.  They would then take the place of honour beside the other chiefs under the main canopy at the functions, prior to vanishing in a swirl of red dust as the traditional dancers made their way through the village square.  all pausing in front of the chief's booth to display their talents.  This was ofetn awarded with a hand ful of Naira notes pasted on the fore headws of the dancers as their feet twirled in the red sand to the beat of the drum.

Oke was calling his mother. " Mama, mama , Papa  n'akpo gi.", he was calling his mother to come in from the courtyard where she was sitting peacefully and enjoying the cool evening air.
She got up hastily , and instinctively straightened out her plain wrapper of ankara cloth, not having realised that her husband was home. " Let's go in and greet him", she answered as she put her arms around her teen age son's shoulder and they went in arm and arm together through the narrow hallway to the dining room.  There Chioke sat alone at the head of the table with his dinner already served though untouched.  He looked up to observe them enter the room together, and although his face seemed to be in displeasure he did not say anything to that effect, instead he smiled at his wife of fourteen years.  She spoke first, " Ndewo" she greeted him as she sat down on his left side at the table.
"Nno,o" she continued.
At this point he could hide his displeasure no longer, " Obero Nno ke fi cho?" he answered some what belligerently.  "Why must I send for you when I come back in the night?  I thought that a wife should be eager to meet her husband when he returns home?"
 To this she said nothing although in her thoughts she wondered why she should rush to see the face of a man who rarely, if ever any longer, gave her any pleasure.  Instead she said, " I was in the back Chioke, I did not hear you get in."
" Well," he said," Sit down and talk to me while I eat." At this point he nodded to Oke, as if requesting that he leave him alone with his wife, and Oke left without a word.  Once he was out of hearing shot he continued in his irritable tone, " Bye the way, I have told you many times that you are tryiny to teach this boy how to be a woman.  Why are you coming in here with him arm in arm? I've told you before, women hold hands, and men hold hands, but not a man and a woman" "Even if that boy is my son?" she asked.
"Ijeoma, Okechukwu is a man now and not a boy, and I want him to be a real man, but you seem to think that by pouring all this lavish affection on him and giving in to all his desires that this will be for his good."
" Chioke, I see nothing wrong with showing affection to my children>"
" All this tuff you learnt in school, dont forget where you came from".
It was the same argument night after night.  There was always something wrong and Ijeoma was beginning to question everything herself.  Even if there was nothing gone amiss, somehow Chioke would turn the tables on her, and create a wrong that must be righted.  He was far too harsh on his oldest son Oke, who was more like his mother than his father.  There was nothing aggressive about the boy at all; he was a shy soul, who rarely said much unless spoken to.  THis was in contradistinction to Chioke who was a mans man and an enemies enemy.  Whenever in the fathers presence, he would quiver, and the more he quivered, the more his father shouted at him  The meetings were inevitably a disaster.  The one fantasy that Oke had was that one day he would please his father although the possibility seemed even more remote by the day.  He was not the only one fantasising about pleasing Chioke.  It seemed as if the entire household was geared towards this one unaccomplishable feat of making the master of the house happy.  For Sunday the cook, it meant long hours in the kitchen trying to cook a variety of stews and soups, which always had to be ready when Oga came in.  Indeed, he could not be dismissed until Oga had come home and had eaten.  There were many evenings where he would not get off until after 11 pm, and then he would have to return at the crack of dawn.  For Nnamdi the steward, it meant spotless white shirts, and starched agbadas, all laid out ready to be worn in the morning.  The children lived in dread should their school grades go down but the greater part they were tacitly ignored by Chioke, except of course, Oke, the first born, who was generally singled out for the harshest treatment of all.

Ijeoma and Chioke

Sometimes it is hard to understand what draws one person to the next, or what keeps two people together.  In the case of Ijeoma and Chioke it appeared, at least to all who cared to think about it, that here there were two people who had a match made in heaven.
Few states of affairs are more dangerous, and few hobies more perilous, than that of trying to gauge the status of a marriage from the outside.  For some unknown reason it can be said, without a doubt, that people are most ingenuous when it comes to not airing their dirty linens in public.  By the smiles that are publicly exchanged, and the quivering lips, and the animated hand gesticulations, they couls appear to be on their honeymoon, for all one knows or cares.  Once out of the public glare, the insults are hurtled freely from one party to the next, and on occasion, these can escalate to even more intense violence.
To the outside eye, it was so with Ijeoma and Chioke.  He was a wealthy trader, who also, incidentally, possessed a college degree in architecture from the University of Nigeria in Enugu.  It was not that he was a bad architect, more an urgent need to feed his quickly expanding family that had made him take that desperate last leap into the world of the self employed.  Not that he had had much of a choice, for the family was literally starving to death anyway; it was just that any failure of the trading business would have lead to escalation of the rate of their descent into despair.  And, of course, it took a lot of faith; faith not so much in your own 'chi' as in Chukwu Himself, Jesu Christi.
For weeks the pickings at the dinner table had become slimmer and slimmer.  Their diet had gone down from eating meat every day, and at every meal, to barely being able to put meat on the table twice a week.  Chioke felt very inadequate about that; here he was a whole architect with a decent job with a private firm and he could barely feed his three children; to make matters worse there was fourth one on the way, who definitely was "God's own", for man certainly could not have concieved of him or her at a more inopportune time.  And so appropriately, the sprightly boy, totally unaware of the inconvenience he was causing, was baptized ' Nkechi' .  For his survival depended on Him for sure.
During those evenings at the dinner table, Ijeoma's eyes would slowly glaze over with the beginnings of a tear, as she hid her own emotion of confusion and sorrow.  Surely she was not exactly a nobody herself.  Afterall, although she had never liked school much she had been quite an industrious lady as far back as could be remembered.  She had managed to obtain her West African School Certificate in those old days and had even excelled so well as to score a grade three.  She had subsequently studied at the teacher training college of the Holy Rosary in Enugu.  At some point she had been convinced that she would become a nun ( because the nuns inthose days were all over the college).  However, Chioke had come along in her second year, and over the ensuing two years courtship she had quite fallen in love with him.
He was the kind of man that you could rely on, or at least he seemed then.  When he said he was coming, he came, and if he promised her something or the other he usually came through with it; moreover, what mad matters even better, they seemed to have this sense of peace when in each others company.  So much so that in the last few months prior to their wedding she found herself day dreaming even more and more about his ouch and the private things they often shared with one another.  Papa had been overwhelmed with joy the day Choke had come with his people to ask for her hand in marriage.  'Ndi Architect' he would bellow out in his loud way, and slap him on the back.  ( The fact was that Papa would have slapped any man on the back who was worth his salt, and also a catholic and seemed reasonable.)  Papa was no fool, there was a world teeming with young ladies out there.  Many who were far more beautiful and well educated than Ijeoma.  And it appeared that there were just not enough eligible bachelors to go around; and as such there were many beautiful ladies with impeccable reputations who simply stayed at home waiting for that introduction which would catapult her into marital bliss.

Although Papa never came right out and said it, protestants were different, and so here, far from the shores of Northern Ireland, there existed a suspicion between the two groups.  Oddly enough, which religion one belonged to depended on which missionary school you attended.  And it was fiercely defended once assumed.  And it was in this way that Papa Edward had become a catholic and had married Mama Elisabeth  also a catholic.

Chioke was the perfect son-in law.  He was from agood family( his father had been a permanent secretary both before and after the war, and his mother had been a teacher at Queen's school in Enugu.)  Mama Letitia had been a geography teacher and had now opened up her own primary school.  All these facts Papa Edward found very exciting.  " Perm Sec", he would shout as he was wont to do, " Nno O", " Bia lie nu, ehh.. What can we get you to drink? O stout tata or bu beer".
Mr. Okolo, the Permanent Secretary was educated in the Queens own country and found Papa Edward somewhat irritating.   Even more irritating to him was the fact that he himself who had spent six years in institutions of higher learning, yet it was Papa Edward the trader, with a mere standard six education, who could buy him 100 hundred times over.  However, as there were not many places where you could any longer visit and get a free beer, Mr. Pius Okolo would humbly sit down and drin his in- laws drinks whilst being forced to listen to him chatter about his business.

“Excuse me, excuse me...” Tokunbo was running after a young girl who was carrying an armful of books and seemed to be in a hurry to enter the hostel.

The young girl turned around and her face seemed displeased and with as much patience as she could muster politely asked, “Can I be of any help sir?”

“I am sorry to bother you, I am just arrived from out of town and I am here to pick up my fiancée Yetunde who is in Room 322, could you please carry a message to her that I am waiting downstairs by the gate?”

“And who should I say is waiting for her?”

“Toks Ajayi”.

And the girl continued on her way in.

By the side of the entrance gate to the female hostel there were several large trees, and he stood under one of the trees, a little off to the side watching as the girls were coming in and out of the hostel.  The pot bellied man standing under the tree had been joined by a happy entourage of three young girls and they were laughing and chatting as they entered the Toyota SUV he came in and then they drove off into the moon light.  The evening was cool, and through the leaves he could see moon light filtering between the leaves and casting shadows on the ground.

And then he was taken by surprise as Yetunde appeared to shake him out of his reverie.

“Yetunde!” he exclaimed with an enthusiasm that was quite obvious. Yetunde smiled and he greeted her with a kiss on her cheek, “:Toks good to see you,” she laughed. “Now tell me what do you have planned for tonight as I think it is late already.” Tokunbo had thought that they could probably get dinner at his hotel.

The Premier Inn in Ife was located some one mile south of the University gate, and although a hotel mostly of local repute it was nevertheless good and had a small restaurant attached to its night club.  The menu was varied and there was western cuisine and Nigerian food available.  They sat themselves by a table off to the side and away from the loud music that was playing on the sound system.

A white clad steward appeared and filled their glasses with water, and lit a candle that sat on the table.

“Good evening sir and Madam, tell me what we can offer you today? I must say that our evening special today is Rice with Beans and Beef Stew,”

Toks looked over at Yetunde, “I want to have the special, but Yetunde Do you want to eat Nigerian food today,or do you want to try the continental menu?”

Yetunde was tired of Nigerian food and opted for a hamburger with French fries.

While they waited for the food they had a lot of catching up to do, he told about his work and his friend Mr Olumide.  Then the conversation turned back to them and as he sat with her hand in his he said, “Have you had a chance these two weeks to think of what I asked you? Or do you still need time to think over everything?”

And this time she smiled and looked him in the eye, “If the last two weeks are anything to judge by, then I can say that I have missed you dreadfully, even more than I thought.”

By the end of the evening he returned her to her hostel and promised to return early the next morning.

A day in Ife:

At ten a.m. sharp Mr. Tokunbo Ajayi was knocking on the door to Yetunde’s room after having been admitted by the gate man. He was told to come in by a voice he did not recognize, and then he walked into a scene that he would find memorable for long there was no Yetunde in the room, instead he met a tall fair skinned girl seated by her desk in a white dress of chiffon; she appeared to be preoccupied looking herself in the mirror and applying eye shadow, clearly she was expecting someone herself and without looking up from the mirror she said, “ Bayo darling…”

Tokunbo paused at the door, “I beg your pardon, I was looking  for Yetunde Solanke,” The girl  who had been backing the door turned around and looked at the guest, “ Oh! I am sorry, I was expecting a visitor myself, and I thought you were him, your step in the corridor sounded just like him.”

 “I think I might have reached the wrong room.”

“No actually you are in the right place; this is Yetunde’s room she will be back any minute.”

Then he looked at the beautiful girl before him and he found his interest piqued at this adorable creature who was like a vision in the light, the white chiffon she wore blew in the air as she moved around the room, and her hair was long and had been styled to flow with each turn of her head. As she walked past him he could smell a perfume that had a scent most mysterious, on her lips there glistened a shine of luscious lip gloss in a beautiful golden tone, and her eyes were lined with a deep black eyeliner.  She looked into his eyes and her look lingered longer than polite and he met her gaze himself full on. Then in the awkwardness of the encounter she introduced herself as Bola the room mate of Yetunde.

He sat him self down on a chair beside the desk which he presumed to belong to Yetunde and waited.  As he waited he could not take his gaze off this seeming wonder of creation who had mesmerized him.

Then the girl who was now fully prepared was bored waiting for her visitor and  came over to where he sat and engaged him in conversation. “ Where do you live?” she asked him, and he not wanting to be rude answered, “ I came all the way from Lagos,that was where I and Yetunde met.” Then she wanted to know how he had met Yetunde, and before she could ask any further questions Yetunde returned to the room. She was fully dressed and had clearly been waiting for him, her dress though tasteful, lacked the luster of the chiffon. Nevertheless, it was a bright red dress and it showed her figure off to her advantage, she rushed into the arms of her lover, and he took her in his arms, quickly forgetting the new girl who stood by and watched. And whilst they were in each others arms Bola left without a word.

For the rest of the day, his mood was affected because he could not get the idea of the other girl out of his mind.  He found himself like a moth attracted to a flame, and he wanted to know more about Bola. And he now found himself asking questions of Yetunde about the girl.

“ So tell me,” he said, “how did it come to be that you became the room mate of Bola?  The two of you seem so different..”

She was sitting on her chair in her dorm room, and as Bola was gone for the weekend, they had the room to themselves, and in fact most of the hostel was unusually quiet as most of the girls had travelled for the weekend.  She looked up puzzled as to the significance of the question, then she answered non committal, “Interesting you should ask, how I got to be the room mate of the most popular girl on campus.”

He raised his eye brows, but then acted as if surprised, even though he was not, as it now made sense, the beautiful girl was probably the most beautiful girl on the campus.    

Mrs. Olabisi pays a visit to Mrs. Toyin Ajayi senior:

Mrs Toyin Ajayi senior had watched with great excitement as the sparks of love unfolded before her between her dear youngest son Tokunbo and the young girl Yetunde.  She was  anxious to get some ‘feedback’ from the other side about how Yetunde felt about Tokunbo, and just in general eager to stay on good terms with her friend Mrs. Olabisi at this critical juncture of the developments in her son’s relationship with her friend’s niece.  And as such, it was not with altogether unselfish motivations that she invited the aunt to come to lunch and to spend the afternoon with her after the young girl had returned to Ife.

Mrs. Olabisi was in good spirits and was in her usual talkative mood as she was when not encumbered by her husband’s presence and his continuous admonishments about her weakness for gossiping.

“You know Toyin, you would never believe what I have heard, I have heard from my friend  Major Segun Ogundipe that there may be a marriage in the works soon for Toyin jr. and Femi.  He tells me that Toyin jrs brother has said that as soon as the divorce is final between her and Toks that the wedding will proceed.  And you know, I asked how could that be that the second wedding will be bigger than her first wedding? And her brother said that Femi was not holding back any expenses as he felt that he wanted it to be known that this was true love, the second time around.”

Mrs. Tokunbo Ajayi senior smiled, “My dearest, we are so tired of hearing of Toyin and her wohala, but mind you I wish her the best.  I can tell you we spared no expense for the first wedding, for it was our family that paid for everything save the dress she wore; and I was wondering why her brother did so little, afterall their father was a senior military Officer under Obasanjo, and Murtala Muhammed, that you would have thought that they could have spent some of their family money on the girl’s wedding. But no, we the poor civil servants are footing the bills!” Mrs. Olabisi continued:

“Femi’s father has left him a considerable amount of money, although I am not quite sure about how liquid his funds are; we have estimated that he must be worth a fair amount in pounds at least one million. He has a flat in St. John’s Wood, and several properties in Ikeja, and also Victoria Island.”

“Was he the only son of all those wives? His father must have had five wives that I know of .”

“He is not the only son, but he is the first son of the first wife, and it seems a lot of the property was left exclusively to him, and then my understanding is that the younger sons have a trust fund of some sort, but I am not certain of their worth, I know for sure that the wives all inherited some portion for themselves and their children.”

“He did not die without a will, thank God for that or Femi would have been  in court fighting all the wives…”

‘ You know if there was one thing I was fortunate in, my husband may his soul rest in peace, never had an inclination to take on another a wife, in spite of the fact that so many of his peers felt the need to, and I cannot tell you how much that meant to us, and the boys. For my sons he left a perfect example of a monogamous relationship, and what love we had for each other!  So can you imagine my distaste on finding out that Toyin Jr. was running away with Toks best friend. But then I said to Toks, when you marry a girl who has her head in the clouds, and whose father has had many wives, then the girls may think that polygamy is okay, and I fear that might have happened with Toyin.”

“Well, I do not know, my understanding is that Femi is going to divorce Iyabo and that he has no intentions of keeping two wives.”

“ Femi not have many wives? How can the fruit fall far away from the tree? I would find it hard to believe that he could break with such a reputation as that the men in his household have, if ever there were womanizers in a family that was such a family, from his father and his brothers in their hey day, even to Femi himself”

“For all the trouble she has caused us, I told Toks that we are most fortunate that there are no children involved and that once we make the break we can erase her from our minds.  Now tell me, what has Yetunde told you about her and Toks?”

“She tells me that they are friends and they are getting to know each other whatever that means. Gone are the days when you could introduce a girl to her husband to be without her knowing him.  Yet for all this protracted process of social interaction there seems to be more divorces than ever, that you cannot help but wonder if the arranged marriage might be more stable.”

“Yes, tell the young girls now days that you are arranging their marriage, and they will run away for sure. I know, I know, so she has said no more to you about him?”

“Well I feel she likes him very much as I have observed her, and when he calls her face quite lights up, and on the occasion that he has missed a call I can tell that she is preoccupied; and then of course, she takes great care of her appearance now, but then she has always done that, but perhaps even more now.  Tell me from your sons point of view how is everything?”

‘I think he is quite in love, he has rushed down to the law offices of Mr. Williams et al and has filed his divorce papers with mush gusto.  I have hardly seen him happier, he is even talking of a visit to Paris in the spring that I am wondering if he thinks that would be a good honeymoon spot, you know, Paris the city for lovers..’

“Well, there would have to be a proposal and a wedding first, do not put the cart before the horse, and my sister will not allow Yetunde to consider a wedding before her graduation”.

 Bar beach Lagos, Nigeria.

 Buying suya on Bar beach, Lagos.

 Horses for riding Bar Beach, Lagos.

 A view of the Niger River from The Niger river Bridge at Onitsha.

 A swimmer at Bar Beach, Lagos.

 Traditional Itsekiri dress

Children carrying chairs at Enugu Campus staff quarters.

Yetunde returns to Ife:

Over the next few weeks the time seemed to go by fast, and for the young Yetunde, she would often later remember those days as some of the best days of her life.  A warmth suffused her every thought, and each day it seemed as if the sun shone brighter, and she imagined that the whole world was a happy and a wonderful place.  She eagerly awaited Tokunbo’s calls which came in clockwork regularity each evening on his way home from work.  As he made his way through the Lagos go slow down Ikorudu road from Lagos Island to Ikeja, he had plenty of time to chat and plan for their future together.

The long strike by the lecturers of the institutions of higher learning had ended with an impasse.  The governing body of the Nigerian University Commision had promised to investigate and institute reforms which would adjust the salaries of the lecturers to take into account inflation and other cost of living increases.  To Mr. Tokunbo Ajayi the resumption of the Univerisities was a double edged sword. On the one hand, it meant that he could no longer see Yetunde on a daily basis, but on the other hand, he was happy for her, as she needed to finish her first degree, and thus be able to get on with her life.

The final evening they had spent together had been an emotional one.  For Tokunbo Ajayi it reawakened  his fears of abandonment; although it made no sense, for Yetunde was as different from Toyin as night is to day, yet he could not help but imagine any number of scenarios about what could go wrong with their relationship now that she returned to Ife.  He imagined that maybe the love she had declared for him had been purely circumstantial, or that her reassurances of her not having a steady boyfriend at the University campus were some how fake.  And, as such, he worried that he might find that their love could not stand the test of time, nor of distance.  However, he had fully assured her of his determination to pursue the relationship faithfully.

the evening before she left he had visited her at her aunt’s house, and they sat alone beside each other in the formal living room with only a light shining from the table lamp beside the sofa. And when she was unaware, he would steal a glance to survey her features, and her profile, so as to emblazon them upon his mind, thinking that if he could watch her now then he would have his fill, in his mind at least, of the solace of the familiar features that warmed his soul and had rescued him from the brink of despair.  He did not say much, for there was little to say, or rather there was so much to say, but it was all the same things that reverberated in his mind, that he wanted to savor every last moment of this day, and that he would miss her dreadfully; and lest he should appear boring or repetitive, or worse still desperate he cautioned himself from saying what his heart was weeping about inside. And as such he was silent; and she too could feel the somberness of his mood, although perhaps because of her youth or her inexperience, she had not quite as many fears, and was convinced that the man Tokunbo was real, and honest.

He sat beside her and held her hand peacefully in his, and he said finally to her,

“I will miss you, Yetunde, only too soon after we met we have to part..”

She smiled, as smiles came easily to her, “You say that as if I am about to embark on a long journey, across shark and pirate infested seas. Ife is not quite so far,”

He was unable to smile back and still holding her hand he went on,  “ No not quite shark infested seas, perhaps something worse- the armed robber infested highway between lagos and Ibadan; I am not sure if I would have chosen the former or the latter!”“We will meet, I will come to Ife every weekend until you graduate, and we can spend time together.”  Then on an impulse, which he himself could not fully understand, he bared his soul to her after knowing her for barely eight weeks.

“My dearest Yetunde, I know this may sound brash to you, that I should say this so soon into our relationship, however, I would not have it any different. Although I have not declared my suit to your father or your uncle, I think it would be safe to say that our feelings for one another are not a secret.  And I have not yet had the opportunity to make a formal proposal, but will you accept my proposal for marriage as a secret understanding between us, a state of affairs which unfortunately we will not be able to regularize until my divorce from Toyin is finalized?”

The young girls eyes opened wide, and she seemed uncertain of what she had heard, or in disbelief she wanted to ascertain that she had indeed just a received a proposal for marriage.

“Could you clarify what you are asking of me?” She said.

“ I am asking you to marry me. My dearest will you do me the honor of marrying me.”

And she became confused, and in her shyness she averted her gaze from him, and looking down at the ground she said nothing. Then he continued,

“ I know this seems premature, but in defense of my suit I must say that we have known each other for the past eight weeks, and I do not know how you feel, but for me this has been the best time of my life.  What can I say? When I sit beside you it is as if our spirits are in perfect harmony, and there is sometimes not even any need for words, for our communications are non verbal and in spirit.  Now I think I understand why they say that the body dies, but love lives on for ever.  For to me the understanding of love is that it can not be constrained by time, place or a finite thing. Please do not hold the secrecy needed at this point against me, as I must finalize the divorce before I present myself to your family as a suitor…”

And then he stopped in mid sentence as it seemed that she had not understood what he was saying, and she still made noresponse looking down at the ground. And then after a period of time which must have felt like a year to him she slowly replied.

“ I have to think of this, as I am not sure of anything now. I need to time to think of everything.”

And on this note they had parted their ways.

The trip to Ife:

Two weeks after Yetunde had returned to Ife, Tokunbo left work early on a Friday afternoon and was trying to beat the Friday rush hour traffic out of Lagos heading for Ife via the Ibadan expressway. He was hoping to arrive at his destination before dark.  The traffic on the Lagos Ibadan expressway was backed up, as a lorry had overturned and was blocking one lane of the carriageway.  He arrived in Ife after night fall, and he drove directly to the female hostel where he parked his car by a side road.  As it was a Friday evening at eight o’clock There was a near traffic jam in front of the hostel with Rolls-Royces parked beside Mercedes Benz’s, and Toyota SUV’s were all competing for valuable space.  Emanating from the hostel could bee seen young female students dressed in their white silks and Chiffons carrying their over night bags on their way out for the weekends.  Under a tree could be seen a pot bellied man waiting for his own student girlfriend.  Tokunbo walked up to the gateman and was told that the visiting hours were over and that he would not be admitted.  He then had to hang around waiting for a girl who was going inside to carry a message to Yetunde to ask her to come out and meet him at the front of the building.

Yetunde returns to Ife:

Over the next few weeks the time seemed to go by fast, and for the young Yetunde, she would often later remember those days as some of the best days of her life.  A warmth suffused her every thought, and each day it seemed as if the sun shone brighter, and she imagined that the whole world was a happy and a wonderful place.  She eagerly awaited Tokunbo’s calls which came in clockwork regularity each evening on his way home from work.  As he made his way through the Lagos go slow down Ikorudu road from Lagos Island to Ikeja, he had plenty of time to chat and plan for their future together.

The long strike by the lecturers of the institutions of higher learning had ended with an impasse.  The governing body of the Nigerian University Commision had promised to investigate and institute reforms which would adjust the salaries of the lecturers to take into account inflation and other cost of living increases.  To Mr. Tokunbo Ajayi the resumption of the Univerisities was a double edged sword. On the one hand, it meant that he could no longer see Yetunde on a daily basis, but on the other hand, he was happy for her, as she needed to finish her first degree, and thus be able to get on with her life.

The final evening they had spent together had been an emotional one.  For Tokunbo Ajayi it reawakened  his fears of abandonment; although it made no sense, for Yetunde was as different from Toyin as night is to day, yet he could not help but imagine any number of scenarios about what could go wrong with their relationship now that she returned to Ife.  He imagined that maybe the love she had declared for him had been purely circumstantial, or that her reassurances of her not having a steady boyfriend at the University campus were some how fake.  And, as such, he worried that he might find that their love could not stand the test of time, nor of distance.  However, he had fully assured her of his determination to pursue the relationship faithfully.

the evening before she left he had visited her at her aunt’s house, and they sat alone beside each other in the formal living room with only a light shining from the table lamp beside the sofa. And when she was unaware, he would steal a glance to survey her features, and her profile, so as to emblazon them upon his mind, thinking that if he could watch her now then he would have his fill, in his mind at least, of the solace of the familiar features that warmed his soul and had rescued him from the brink of despair.  He did not say much, for there was little to say, or rather there was so much to say, but it was all the same things that reverberated in his mind, that he wanted to savor every last moment of this day, and that he would miss her dreadfully; and lest he should appear boring or repetitive, or worse still desperate he cautioned himself from saying what his heart was weeping about inside. And as such he was silent; and she too could feel the somberness of his mood, although perhaps because of her youth or her inexperience, she had not quite as many fears, and was convinced that the man Tokunbo was real, and honest.

He sat beside her and held her hand peacefully in his, and he said finally to her,

“I will miss you, Yetunde, only too soon after we met we have to part..”

She smiled, as smiles came easily to her, “You say that as if I am about to embark on a long journey, across shark and pirate infested seas. Ife is not quite so far,”

He was unable to smile back and still holding her hand he went on,  “ No not quite shark infested seas, perhaps something worse- the armed robber infested highway between lagos and Ibadan; I am not sure if I would have chosen the former or the latter!”“We will meet, I will come to Ife every weekend until you graduate, and we can spend time together.”  Then on an impulse, which he himself could not fully understand, he bared his soul to her after knowing her for barely eight weeks.

“My dearest Yetunde, I know this may sound brash to you, that I should say this so soon into our relationship, however, I would not have it any different. Although I have not declared my suit to your father or your uncle, I think it would be safe to say that our feelings for one another are not a secret.  And I have not yet had the opportunity to make a formal proposal, but will you accept my proposal for marriage as a secret understanding between us, a state of affairs which unfortunately we will not be able to regularize until my divorce from Toyin is finalized?”

The young girls eyes opened wide, and she seemed uncertain of what she had heard, or in disbelief she wanted to ascertain that she had indeed just a received a proposal for marriage.

“Could you clarify what you are asking of me?” She said.

“ I am asking you to marry me. My dearest will you do me the honor of marrying me.”

And she became confused, and in her shyness she averted her gaze from him, and looking down at the ground she said nothing. Then he continued,

“ I know this seems premature, but in defense of my suit I must say that we have known each other for the past eight weeks, and I do not know how you feel, but for me this has been the best time of my life.  What can I say? When I sit beside you it is as if our spirits are in perfect harmony, and there is sometimes not even any need for words, for our communications are non verbal and in spirit.  Now I think I understand why they say that the body dies, but love lives on for ever.  For to me the understanding of love is that it can not be constrained by time, place or a finite thing. Please do not hold the secrecy needed at this point against me, as I must finalize the divorce before I present myself to your family as a suitor…”

And then he stopped in mid sentence as it seemed that she had not understood what he was saying, and she still made noresponse looking down at the ground. And then after a period of time which must have felt like a year to him she slowly replied.

“ I have to think of this, as I am not sure of anything now. I need to time to think of everything.”

And on this note they had parted their ways.

The trip to Ife:

Two weeks after Yetunde had returned to Ife, Tokunbo left work early on a Friday afternoon and was trying to beat the Friday rush hour traffic out of Lagos heading for Ife via the Ibadan expressway. He was hoping to arrive at his destination before dark.  The traffic on the Lagos Ibadan expressway was backed up, as a lorry had overturned and was blocking one lane of the carriageway.  He arrived in Ife after night fall, and he drove directly to the female hostel where he parked his car by a side road.  As it was a Friday evening at eight o’clock There was a near traffic jam in front of the hostel with Rolls-Royces parked beside Mercedes Benz’s, and Toyota SUV’s were all competing for valuable space.  Emanating from the hostel could bee seen young female students dressed in their white silks and Chiffons carrying their over night bags on their way out for the weekends.  Under a tree could be seen a pot bellied man waiting for his own student girlfriend.  Tokunbo walked up to the gateman and was told that the visiting hours were over and that he would not be admitted.  He then had to hang around waiting for a girl who was going inside to carry a message to Yetunde to ask her to come out and meet him at the front of the building.

A traditional wedding in Onitsha: rewrite

A traditional wedding in Onitsha:

Onitsha town sits on the eastern border of the River Niger, some four hundred miles inland from the coast.  By the time the  heavily silt laden river  has reached  this location on it’s last stretch in its itinerant race towards the delta, it meanders wildly like an irresolute judge, now swaying this way and then that way.  The town has been a major trading post for a good one hundred years; and apart from a brief spell of silence in it’s markets during the Biafran secession from Nigeria, when the market was razed to the ground, it continues to be a noisy and prolific market, the commercial capital of the eastern region. In many ways it is reminiscent of a large village the size of a town, but lacking all the necessary infrastructure to support such a populace. During the British colonial days, an area was designated exclusively for the use of the Europeans and this area was called the Government Reserved Area.  This area was exclusive, and there were well tarred roads and beautiful houses of brick, that were surrounded by impeccably manicured lawns, and these were in complete contradistinction to the houses of native construction which were laid out in a more random mosaic remniscient of a quilt which had run out of  certain materials and had thus been forced to rely less upon symmetry and more on intuition, still beautiful nevertheless, but in it’s own way.  In those long bygone days any “native” who entered this area would be subject to arrest/ and or a severe beating.  However, with the turning over of the reigns of government from the colonial rulers to the locals on October 1^st 1960, the Nigerian educated quickly populated and took over these government posts and the residences that were allotted.  It was in one of these old bungalows that the family of Henrietta lived in. Although they had lived in the town of Onitsha their whole lives, they were not really indigenes of Onitsha, as the family hailed from the town of Owerri.  Due to the general insecurity in the east, it had been determined that the risks associated with a traditional wedding in Owerri were too high; and as such it was decided that the traditional ceremony should be much abbreviated and modified to be held in town.

The town of Owerri had been the epicenter of many kidnap dramas, and not wanting to tempt fate( at least not in that manner) the patriarch Mr. Henry Okeke had decided to hold the wedding in town.  Mr. Henry Okeke was a wealthy trader in Onitsha, and had the means to secure the services of several armed guards who could be seen roaming the premises with their AK 47’s ready.  The security was tight and the gate to the compound was kept closed.  All the guests were rigorously checked against a guest list kept at the gate house.  Overall, Mr. Henry Okeke was not displeased with the wedding; on the contrary, he was much relieved that his eldest daughter from his first wife was finally going to get married at the ripe age of thirty four years. Hypocritically enough, he probably would have preferred for her to have been the only wife of Christian; but in this case he felt that as beggars they could not really be choosers.  The cause of their beggarliness was multifold; for the first part Henrietta was in years far advanced beyond the marrying age customary in their circle.  Secondly, her affair with Christian had been well publicized all over Enugu and Onitsha; that no single man in his right senses, even should he have found her desirable, would have dared to approach her.  Moreover, to make matters worse, it was not as if the girl was socially “out there” meeting people, unless of course, Christian was with her.  In effect, she had been a wife in all but name. 

Mrs. Clementina Okeke, the first wife of Henry,  the girl’s mother, was busy on the occasion.  She had arranged for the caterers and was seeing to the arrangement of the chairs in the courtyard. The grooms family was to sit on one side of the courtyard and the bride’s family was to sit opposite it on the other side.  She was slightly out of sorts, as she had hoped for a white wedding, but it seemed as if that would not be a possibility as the Anglican church had out rightly refused to wed a man who was already married in the church to another.  But she too was no fool when it came to matters of practicality. It had taken sixteen years to  bring Christian to the altar, although it in reality was no altar at all but the courtyard of a bungalow in Onitsha.   The mother remained mystified as to the attraction her daughter had for this man Christian, and she failed totally to see what her found so irresistible about him.  But then they had long since learned that Henrietta had a mind of her own, and any attempts on their part to dissuade her from the affair had only served to reaffirm her love for him. 

The outfits for the wedding had been carefully planned, and the color scheme had been diligently chosen to be a rich golden hue which so well complemented her daughters bronze colored skin.  A red head tie was to complement the outfit and she had given her daughter a set of bright reddish orange coral beads to wear around her neck on the occasion.   Her pregnancy was still too early to show and she still looked trim and fit in her wedding regalia.

Christian, the groom, was excited beyond words.  He was seated in the front row with his kinsmen from Awka; they were all dressed in a matching “ Anakara” cloth of brown and green.  In the presence of his mistress, soon to be wife, he was unrecognizable.  Here he was gentle, kind and considerate; whenever he spoke it was with a softness which seemed natural.  Gone were all the hints of irritation and the surly behavior he had so overtly displayed at his marital home.

Gently laughing and speaking softly he could be heard talking calmly to his brother who sat beside him, telling him how relieved he was that Eugenia had finally got the message and had left of her own accord the day before.  His brother had laughed , “ That woman,” he had said, “ Mama always wondered how you could have married someone quite so boring.” 

Mrs. Christiana Nwafor sat with the women and had a smug look on her face.  She was much relieved that her son had finally had the guts to leave the horrible wife Eugenia( whom she detested).

       After the formal introductions and the breaking of the cola nut, libations were poured to the spirits of the ancestors.  This was accomplished by spilling a few drops of liquor to the ground with a verbal dedication done by the elder in the group from Mr. Henry Okeke’s family.  Then the haggling for the bride price had begun; this purely symbolical gesture was more a reenactment of tradition than a real life monetary transaction.   The men scurried back and forth between the two groups each carrying bundles of broomsticks which were to denote the amounts of the transaction.

Father Michael and Father John:

It had become increasingly apparent that Bishop Okeke was disillusioned with Father John, calling him what was akin to an abettor of thieves.

“ I know that by now all are suspicious of me and my motives”. He had explained to his mentor.  “ I never intended to bring all this controversy to the churches door.  My hand was forced, father, not a physical force mind you; rather, my conscience was constrained into activity.”

  He went on to explain that after having met the boys at a local youth chapter for catholic action youths he was determined to befriend them, all the while under the belief that there lurked future priests.

“Truly, you could have not believed all that?” Father Michael interjected,            ” “I mean, it sounds rather naive you’re more likely to…”

He interrupted Father Michael, “ No, no”  he exclaimed passionately “ No, no, as I understood their plight more and more, I could no longer condemn their activities out rightly.  If a man steals, to feed his children, surely God must understand circumstances as these?”

“Father John,” Father Michael retorted “These boys are not married nor do they have children.  The money that they steal is not for some altruistic motive.  They are terrorizing innocent citizens, making life miserable for all”.

Father John looked at him with a hurt look feeling thoroughly misunderstood...

“Father, I beg to differ.  What of the injustice of the state which has disenfranchised them? A state which has totally failed them in every regard both fiscally and spiritually?”

Father Michael shook his head solemnly, “You have a duty father, a duty to tell them, tell them to direct their energies against the true enemy.  Tell the armed bandits to stop their fight against the innocent.  Rather instruct them to seek out the perpetrators of injustice wherever they may be or under whichever cloak they hide.”

“I have tried, to I have tried to tell them all this that sometimes justice must be sought for sometimes pleaded for but we must never cease to seek it.  How far away I have often thought it is”.  With a far off look in his eyes he continued:

 “Sometimes, seemingly, unattainable.  But for the Bishop to accuse me of being an abettor to thieves?”

“If he knew that you were a confessor to a  band of secessionists do you think this would appear more honorable?”

Father John laughed,” In places like here, honor becomes a figment of the imagination, an unreal chalice whose drought we drink yet never become drunk from..  For truly, we are imprisoned, in every imaginable way.”   

“We are imprisoned, in our minds, which are allowed no freedom of thought or aspiration; imprisoned physically in our homes behind bars and high walls.  Darkness brings regular terror for the knocking at night.”

“Yet we believe ourselves to be free…  Free to do what Father?

  When there is nothing for us to do.  Free to hope for what?”

“When, experience has shown us, that here things only get worse, and death comes to many as a welcome relief, or only too prematurely.”

“We preach a spiritual freedom, but if our brothers are in chains can we ignore the physical chains that prevent them from seeking God?”

And he continued his soliloquy:

“Is it not just that, we must seek You, heavenly Father in all, in everything; even here in this place where our people cry out for the basic necessities of life “

Father Michael said nothing.  It was abundantly clear that perhaps arguing over the foregoing was futile.  There was something in the tone of father John’s voice which betrayed an urgency, some unseen force driving him along his way.  It was clear he would follow this situation until it consumed him, the youths or both.

  In his zeal for the Gospel of Christ, he felt like he was laying down his life for his master, in a most unique way.  Indeed each day he felt as if God had singled him out for this purpose from the day of his conception in his mothers own womb.  Only, then when he had lost her prematurely, there was little left to hold him to this life.  For him, reality was on the other side of the curtain of life, where a more real life awaited him in the shadows of death.  In this way he lived defiant of death, and he moved freely in the land of the living without the restraints of those that hold onto life dearly.  No risk was too great or journey too perilous, for if he died he gained heaven.  Perhaps it was this fearlessness of this world that formed the bond between him and the youths.

He had proclaimed in prayer:

“Let me live Lord, as if I am already dead, and in your arms.  Only that can make this life palatable for me.  Then it is tolerable to live, knowing I am already with you and then death can make little difference.  For if we must wait until death to see your face, then those who have seen you can only be described as dead, dead to this life so like the great apostle Paul we can be alive to you

The Civil War

            Apart from operating daily I as the Head of Surgery at the University had to organize the emergency services.

            This constituted the casualty, the call system, the wards, operating schedules.  General surgeons were on call every 4^th day.

            Casualty was served by a chief consultant and a team of residents.  You received casualties as they arrived from the war front; quickly assess and control blood loss, get them transfused if necessary, get emergency x-rays and forward them to the OR. 

            The surgeon on call literally spent all the time operating one after the other.  One only stops when there are no more cases.

            At the end of the day you return home to a paltry meal of garri and ogbono soup which we called empire oil – it looked like it.

The next day you began with rounds in the I.C.U and the wards and discharges to the clinics or rehabilitation centres.

            This was the routine when Enugu fell to the federal forces we evacuated to Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Umuahia.

            To our greatest surprise the hospital administration failed to move any of our facilities like X – Rays and instruments.

            We fortunately had all these equipments available at QEH.  It was however an operating institution of its own and we had to ally ourself to it.

            Before going down to QEH I travelled with Dr. Alfred Ikeme and I remember our sleeping over one night at his fathers home in Nimo.

            Dr. Ikeme’s father was an old fashioned school master who methodically raised his 4 children. He sent Alfred to King’s College Lagos from which upon graduation

He went on to specialize in England acquiring the FRCP specializing in Cardiology.  He took interest in me to make sure I did not escape like some people, e.g. Kodilinye, back to the U.S.  People like Ejoe Edozien (who escaped to M.I.T producing kwashiorkor in rats) through difficult trips like open canoe sail across the ocean to Cameroon and flight to U.S. In cases like Edozien’s they abandoned their families.  For example Joe Edozien abandoned his family made up of a Yoruba wife Dupe & children.

            Dr. Ikeme’s father was a typical Ibo despot head of his family and that particular evening ran his fingers through the soup for eating the pounded yam and proclaimed

            “I will not eat it.  There is no meat”

Two Most Unusual Cases

One of the most unusual cases I treated was that of Prof. Ezekwe of PRODA.

            The PRODA was a child of the Civil war. Brilliant researchers like Willie Achukwu and Gordian Ezekwe took over the Govt. College Umuahia and turned it an arsenal of war.  One of the first successes was a land mine detonated by remote control by running a radio to a certain frequency.  It was so devastating that is was called “Ogbu Nigwe” (killer en masse)  The Nigeria army commanders would have given anything to find how it was made and worked.  Willie Achukwu and his team was responsible for this.

            Gordian and his group were experimenting with rockets and did shoot down a Nigerian jet whose carcass lay on the Nsukka-Enugu road.

            In course of his experiments Gordian suffered a 80% burn.

The mortality in such cases was almost 100%.  He was laid in bed at the shell hospital in Owerri bandaged from head to feet.

            Ojukwu hearing about this sent for me and asked me to go and treat Gordian.  Fortunately I had just returned from my first trip abroad where I spent some time at Epstein Medical College where I studied the new method of treating burns by 1% solution of silver nitrate.

            I came back to Biafra with samples of silver nitrate crystal which dissolved in sterile water (never saline) and constantly dabbed on the burn area, keeping it constantly moist, killed all bacteria and did not permit new infection.

            I had recently tried out this treatment when we were suddenly presented with 46 massive burns from the Nsukka front.  It was reported that our arms depot in that front caught fire by explosion.  In a frenzied show of zealousness the ignorant civilians leapt into the fire to put it out and got badly burned.

I raided all the secondary school laboratories for silver nitrate crystals.

            Every morning each patient was placed in a warm bath tub and washed of all scabs.  They are then put out and throughout the day a moist sponge of silver nitrate was placed on the burn area.  One of my nurses became extremely good in this therapy and we succeeded in saving most of the Nsukka native enthusiasts.

            When I went to get Gordian the Owerri hospital authorities who had already taken such trouble in caring for him were surprised.

            I drove him to Queen Elizabeth and removed all the bandages and placed him on silver nitrate solution treatment.  My special nurse took over.  Areas like joints (for example, knees) subjected to contractions [? xxxx ]  were placed on traction and regular physical therapy.

            Gordian recovered completely without skin graftng and headed PRODA till he died of complications from prostate cancer a few years ago.

            Every Christmas he brought me a bag of rice and turkey in gratitude.

Another Innovation

Whilst at Umuahia we were so inundated with gun shot wounds of the head that I sought out and recalled Anthony Amigbo a third year medical student from Ibadan and showed him how to simply care for this kind of injury: You simply XXXX the entrance and exit of these wounds and XXXX them regularly.

            Incidentally the white president of South Africa would have three bullets lodged in his skull during unsuccessful assassination attempts and lived for years until some one plunged a knife into his throat.

            Tony acquired an intensive experience during the war and at the end of the Civil War he went to complete his studies at Ibadan and I sent him out to University of Chicago from which he got his residency and settled in an active service XXXX Smith of Chicago in XXXX.

The Fall of Umuahia

The fall of Umuahia was preceded by several factors.  First of all was the Biafra offensive in the Midwest in which Ojukuwu with Banjo conquered and took over the Midwest in no time.  The seizure and captive of foreign oil expatriates in Warri and even a threat on Lagos which could have fallen if not for Banjo’s betrayal - and he paid for it with his life.  After this campaign which I personally felt was unwise the British government chartered many planes and flooded Nigeria with arms.  Even the Russians pointed out that the Biafran people were so enterprising that they have manufactured their own bombs and tried out successfully on their Nigerian opponents.  The Biafrans in the interest of world peace must be stopped.

            They provided Nigeria with MIG bombers and Nigeria hired Egyptian pilots to fly them.

In the meantime the Mosquito Planes of Count von Rosen of Sweden wreaked havocs in Lagos and elsewhere.

            Two of Nigeria ----- wrecked havoc on Biafran moral.

1. The terror bombing these Egyptian Pilots took the MiGs to every major Biafran city and bombed it on its market day.

I recall the Umuahia one.  They bombed the market and killed over 120 people.  I recall the loss of a priest whose corpse could not be identified because he never wore his cassock.  This was the case in most Biafran towns.

The Red Cross Plane Disaster

During the war Biafra was fed by the ICRC & the churches, especially Caritas. The Red Cross flew in planes every other night and the World Council of Churches flew in the other nights.

            An airport strip was a converted landing strip in the Onitsha-Port Harcourt road at ULI near Ihiala.  Planes only landed at night to a darkened airfield in which at regular and appointed time the light would shine for a few seconds because over head was a Nigerian bomber waiting to pounce on the air field.  Besides the airport was a forest of trees in which side lanes would hide/land a plane into the darkness shielding it from the bombers.  The plane would be emptied in quick time and the food evacuated by lorries to the major centre at -----.

            As many as 46 planes landed at ULI in one night.  Mr. George Akabagu directed this operation.  In day time there were many planes that crashed in the landing including one very visible one of the ----- Fathers

            What finally put a stop to Biafra was the massive land forays through the P.H to Umuahia and ULI and worst of all the brazen shooting down of a Red Cross relief plane by Nigeria.  Those were the preludes to Biafran demise.

My Fist Trip Abroad

One of Emeka Ojukumu’s greatest assests was securing the services of first rate men suitable to do jobs of good or secretive sorts.  Thus among his leaders he had the brilliant lawyer Mojekwu also from Nnewi.  Besides this he had ----- who could highjack a plane.  I accosted him once in Mr. Akpan – the Efik Secretary to the Eastern Nigeria Govt. and asked, “Why do you surround yourself with crooks?”

              Ojukuwu: “Here you are Fabian you are older than I am (he was 33 and I almost 50) but do not understand that you do not fight the secessionist wars with honest people.”

I was flabbergasted

Whilst at Umauahia I received word from Mojekwu that some of my friends in the U.S. had collected some money and would hand it over to me – as one they knew and trusted.  I was to fly out that night.

            I sent for my clothing and passport which were always packed and ready to move.  I travelled to ULI & we waited in the dark in one of the airport hangars.

            Shortly after midnight the plane landed and we boarded the plane in darkness.  It took off safely and the next we know we landed in San Tome.

            From San Tome we flew to Lisbon and were processed through as Salazar’s children.  At Lisbon there was a Biafra delegation house ran by Harold Onubogu who used work at Nkalagu cement factory.

            I was to fly to New York but had no visa.  I sent a call to my former Prof Adams of the University of Chicago who was then in the American College of Surgery.  He wanted to know if I could get into any place in the Americas and I recalled that bearing a British passport I could get into Canada.  He asked me to do that and give him a call when I arrived. I did arrive at Montreal and gave him a call.  He asked me to wait he would call me back when he called he contacted the State department which gave instruction to its delegates at Montreal – Thus when I went there I got a visa.

Biafra Relief Organization

Over in New York near the United Nations was an organization called Biafra Relief Foundation.  The president was one Donatus Anyanwu and its secretary the brilliant Emeka Achebe – the present Obi of Onitsha previously a high officer of Shell.  Upon my arrival at New York I was snatched by the Biafra public relations staff and flown to some hidden place in upstate New York and brain washed. 

“If you want money from U.S. you MUST NOT TALK RELIGION OR POLITICS.

This was hammered into me so much so that when I appeared at radio interviews

with Jim Conway when asked about the war I answered

            “Jim you know I spent 14 years in the U.S. trying to be a surgeon.  I do not know anything about politics and cannot discuss it.”

            “Fabian!” Jim Conway said “when this war is over you must be acknowledged as not only a great surgeon but an excellent diplomat.”

            After several appearances in seminars and discussions from East to all the way to Los Angeles setting up organization in Chicago and Los Angeles I transferred 200,000 dollars to Lisbon by wire and secret code.

Biafra Relief Foundation stole the hearts of America and mail came by trucks into its office in New York.

            Within the year we transferred as much as one million dollars to Biafra for relief.

The Biafra Relief Association

The Biafra Relief Association was the Biafra equivalent of the U.S. Biafra Relief Foundation.  I was the secretary and Bishop Okoye its president.  We met quite often and during our meetings Bishop Okoye kept us well supplied with relief materials.

I never tapped into the fund not even taking my £5 a day allowance during my overseas visits.  I strongly believed that it was blood money and if misused would claim blood back in its wake.

            I made several trips during the ward and after the war was invited to Norway by the NORAID organization to consider the Geneva Convention on wars.  It covered international but not civil wars.

            There I met Francis Deng the Sudanese ambassador to the Scandinavian countries.  After the conference in one of the resort cities in the North we drove back to his Stockholm embassy.

            The home he stayed in was a state of the art one with the loveliest rose gardens one could only compare to Versailles.

            When my brother in law Bertil came to pick me up he was scandalized by the opulence.  Bertil was a socialist who painted scenes about war in Chile with anxious faces fleeing bombardment.  His paintings are also in the National gallery of Chile among many others in Sweden and abroad.  After visiting with my family I returned to Biafra to continue the struggle.

Visiting Surgeon from Abroad

There were several visiting surgeons from abroad as we shall observe later.  Among them was a  wonderful Swiss orthopedic surgeon, Guido Piedeman.  He had many visits to disaster areas including the earthquake in Peru.  He came to us when we moved to Emekuku.

The Move to Emekuku

It was during my second trip abroad that Umuahia fell and we had to return to recently recaptured Owerri – Emekuku:

            At Uli I learnt we were all to move to Emekuku.  I took my transport straight from Uli to Emekuku.

            On the way I stopped at Awo- Omanma with one of our units and picked some staff much to the disconcerting eye of Prof XXXX who placed a pharmacologist in charge of  that unit.

            As soon as I landed at the hospital I was greeted by hostility.  Bishop Whelan did not want us there and fought us tooth and nail: “You think you will win?”

            He had left the fight for Emekuku to native Bishops in Ibo land.  I travelled to several stations to meet Bishop Okoye and now Cardinal Arinze.  I assured them that I would lift all the facilities at Umuahia e.g. X – Ray machines and after the war would leave them there.

            The closest I could come to terms with Bishop Whelan was to share it with the Holy Rosary staff.  We got to the stage of fighting for the operating room.  Apart from the UNTH staff was the visiting orthopedic surgeon Guido Piedeman.

            Sister ----- would lock up the theatre and I did not hesitate to break the locks.  Dr. Piedeman was an excellent orthopedic surgeon who made quite a reputation and wealth from moving his clinic in ---- Switzerland to the foot of the Alps every winter to care for skiing injuries.  He was quite busy operating on the large number of wounded soldiers and civilians.  His particular screw technique cured many chronic cases without having to XXXX the fracture and inserting metals.  I thoroughly enjoyed his visit and he left his mark on Biafra.  I was very sorry to have let him go when winter set and he had to go back home.

           

ABC

            Among the other visitors to Emekuku was a delegation of an agency called ABC ---- Aid to Biafra Children organized and financed by Norman Cousins the editor of the Saturday Review of Literature.  He sent out a medical team under one Doctor Page.  The travelling, visiting surgeon was a dashing surgeon ----- Dr. Omar Fareed.  He came to oversee the job of D. Page whom he found to be quite lazy and hardly lifted a finger.  They quarreled incessantly.  It was not long before the whole program collapsed.

Trip to ABC

            During my extended visit seeking funds from the U.S. I visited Norman Cousins in his office near the UN and Biafra Relief Foundation.  He was very nice to me – taking me to his Connecticut home and trying to play tennis with me.

            He also was undergoing hard times because he lost his Saturday Review to a duo of young investors who threw him out and decided to reorganize the Saturday Review into several individual magazines.  In less than 3 months the paper died out Norman bought it back for a song.

            When I visited the West Coast I stayed at Omar Fareed’s excellent home in Hollywood.  He was most gracious and prepared me for a trip to Santa Barbara a main storage center for the Carr Foundation which collected and sent out to missionary hospitals abroad.

            Whilst diving in his white Lincoln he played nice classical music.  On arrival we had lunch and after that he showed me around the facilitation.  I picked up three or four used equipment we could use.

            Just before we left he took me into the Manager’s office and tried the well known salesmanship.

            “You said Biafra Relief had over one million dollars this year.

            Answer yes.

“I want you to sign a check for 250,000 dollars of it to Carr Foundation and you can get whatever equipment we have.”

            I was shocked that an American would not hesitate to dip his finger into blood money.

            “Dr. Fareed! I said you do not seem to know that Biafra Relief Foundation is quite distinct the from Biafra Association each has its own staff.  The Foundation is based here in New York under Donatus Anyanwu and Emeka Achebe. The Biafra Association is based in Biafra under Bishop Okoye and myself.  We get specific funds from the Foundation to finance resettlement of refugees who we build cheap camp homes at a cost of 4. 50 each and initial tools to have self help farming such as Garri Making and other FOOD FOR WORK PROJECTS.  We have seven camps including one with over 5,000 in inhabitants.

            I hope also you will let me keep the few things I picked up here.

The University Planning and Management Committee

[POSTWAR Nigeria]

There were nine members appointed to run the university by the administrator Ukpahi Asika.  For reasons best known to him it did not include the V.C. Eni Njoku.  I felt very sorry for Njoku and did express my condolences.  He replied that all he wished was to be permitted to teach his botany till he reached a retirement age.

Enugu Campus

Being the only DMC member on Enugu campus I was appointed the Head of Enugu campus. I took residence in the house previously lived in by Dr. Leme.  It had a beautiful garden but served as a pit latrine for the previous Nigerian Army occupants who were afraid of Biafran snipers if they dared go to the nearby bush.

Trip to Lagos

            I was appointed with Bede Okigbo and the Biafran Bassey to go to Lagos to secure our grant from the NVC.  Bassey was not very happy to have us in tow.  He was sure that all he needed was a simple line minutes in our file to secure the funds.

            We set out separately – Bede and I and Bassey by himself.  We went to Chief Rotimi Williams my former patient and when he was most pleasantly surprised.  He asked what he could do for us.  I said two things: First we had come to seek the funds for starting the university – and on a personal note to find how to get my family back.

            First go to the house and let my wife fix you a good meal after that come to my office and we discuss the funds.

We went and ate a sumptuous meals.  When we returned he told us that our half a  million start up grant was being delayed by one permanent secretary George Ige and that we should go to the Chief Secretary to the Nigerian Govt, one Mr. Aida.

            We went to Mr. Adia and he sent us to Mr. Ige after discussing with him on the phone.  He was sure with Mr. Ige who claimed that he did not release the funds for two reasons 1. There was no statement of how the funds should be spent for instance we could use if for developing more bombs.  Secondly it was difficult to track down the file.

            We went to his office and in no time tracked down the file which stated clearly that the funds were for salary advances and purchase of reconstruction material.

I wanted to carry the file personally to him but the officer said it was forbidden to outsiders to handle the file.  I had him leave it open at the appropriate page and I laid it in front of his desk.

            He capitulated and asked us to send over Bursar with the detailed statement of the assorted uses of the money and he would release the funds.

            When we returned to our hotel we saw the rather baffled Bursar.  “Did you succeed in your single line minute?

“Not exactly.” We then related our experiences to him and we all drove back to the East.

            In our next visit we secured the funds and proceeded to assign the funds.  We have a part to the lady in charge of the boarding facilities.

She disappeared and we never set our eyes on her for the duration of the stay.  I was sent to purchase asbestos sheets because the federal occupation army tore off roofs of the public buildings. We also needed aluminum sheets.

            We went and secured a most favorable price in each of the items.  Our new problem was transport.  We went to the Rehabilitation Office and there was a colleague of mine from Ibadan.  He assigned a brand new truck to us and added that after conveying our materials we could keep it because the new trucks were for our rehabilitation.  We were very pleased and returned triumphant to Nsukka.

            The next meeting of the PMC paid salary advances to all staff and proceeded to begin the worst of reconstruction.

The truck made repeated trips till it brought all the materials to Nsukka contracts were awarded mainly to Michellete and Nwakwo and lectures began in make shift classrooms.

Personal rehabilitation

            It took some time to clean up the campus residence and at that time I lived at Uwani in Mr. Udoye’s flats.  Again Fred lived with me and despite the fact that as a civil servant who got very early salary advances shared of my rehabilitation rations without contributing a penny to me.  When I moved to the campus I got rid of him.

My Family Reunion

            I had asked Chief Williams for assistance to get my family back.  He asked me to go to the travel agency, find out how much it would cost and he would give me the check.

I did and he gave me the check for the full amount.

            In the meantime I had met a Swedish Red Cross man in my efforts to send a letter to my wife.  He took up our case and eventually the Swedish Red Cross financed the return fare for the family.

            I wanted their immediate return but Rita and all the grown up ones were in school so they waited till the end of the school year to return.

            In a university of Nigeria Kombi bus I travelled to Lagos and collected them.  We drove through the tank trap invested Lagos-Asaba road to Enugu campus and so began the new episode of readjustment.  It was quite traumatic but as soon as the family became occupied in schools it settled.

The children were at first very upset and Anthony spoke up one day: “Do we children have any rights in this house?  Why has daddy decided to take us back to this rat infested dust bole?”  Yes you have rights alright but I should think we need a constitution in which you mother and I rights should be guaranteed because we are a minority.

            First Anton had sat for the entrance to Govt College Afikpo which was recommended to me by Prof Dike quite sometime past.  Fortunately they had not moved to the permanent site miles away in Afikpo but where next door at the ----- building bordering the Enugu campus.  Osi went to the