On the death of Odumegwu Ojukwu- And the man died

Biafran 'war lord' Emeka Odumegwu Ojukwu died on November 26th 2011 at the age of 78 years.  He died in a London Hospital after suffering a massive stroke in December 2010.  He was preceded in death by an estimated 2 million of his people who were systematically killed at the hands of the federalist forces of the republic of Nigeria, in what can be described as one of the worlds worst progroms of ethnic cleansing witnessed in the 20th century. 

And the man died...and the question we pose, is, do ideas die?  Is there an inherent fault in the desire of people to pursue happiness and freedom?  Or, would it be wrong to say that it is the inalienable right of all people to seek self-determination.  And so, the nation of Biafra, though dead, the idea still remains, and this is an idea of a recurring thought, that past events do not necessarily predict the future.

2012-03-03

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A lover in a window.

"it don be six long years since he left without a word...I thank the Lor' Ah'm okay; Ah thank the Lor' that he don open my eyes to see the glory coming from the heavens. Oh Yes, I do see them angels, in the chariots makin their way down fromheaven to rescue me from the deeds of wicked men."
" Now, you tell me Bessie, who gonna bulieve that? If that were true then why am I seein you here every evenin, and It aint no party I see you at.No each time I come here, it been in that same old chair I sees you, lookin off into the distance, watchin every car go by, to see if he has come back to ya. It's time to stop the maudlin now, he aint comin back, no more than dead papa gonna come back to life."
" You is talkin about the dead comin back to life? I 's a christian, Oh yes, I am dear Lor'! And I am ready to give testimony, I believe in the resurrection and the life after deatyh, no, papa he aint dead, he be alive in heaven"
And her friend shook her head in disbelief because she saw that the analogy was a sitting duck to be taken out of context by her sister.
" I am sorry to say this Bessie, but you aint the first woman to have been left by her husband, and believe ye me every moment of this day, there is another man moving on with his life for better or worse, so to speak. The difference is that they might wait a year for him but ah never heard of her lady who sat and waited for six years after such a betrayal."
" Ah wasnt waitin all the time, dont get me wrong, Ah've done a lot, ah've thought a lot; infact I even went out with a man or two in between, the waitin . And I is workin two jobs and taking care of the childrens, Ah've been known to rock a party or two. But then when the dust settles, I find myself goin full circle again, thinkin about everythin, in the way someone thinks who has unfinished business, and then I tsit inthis here rockin chair, thinkin about the past, hoping for the future.
" Now sister, Bessie, that don be some stupid thinkin, thinkin about the past which has gone, and will never come back; you may as well be living a life of fantasy in a swanky apartment on Fifth Avenue; As for the future? You have no future and you are the only one who does not know it"

In a den of thieves continued.

Likewise in the society there was a clear demarcation of it's own acquired schizophrenia, with two worlds living parallel to each other; on the the one hand there was the rich who lorded it over the poor with a despotic profligacy, and on the other there was the lot of the dispossessed who feigned a servile posture while the hatred of their situation simmered as an unquenchable fire in their souls waiting for the right moment to erupt.  Like an active volcano the people waited for the right moment, for it was no longer a matter of if, no it was a matter of when.  For life was quickly becoming so unbearable, that death was no longer feared but even anticipated as a welcome end to the life of turmoil and strife.  For in death, the soul could sleep in the night without fears, and there catch up on the long nights  of lost sleep due to terror.  For in death, the body plagued by sickness for which a cure was unaffordable due to prevailing circumstances, there it could rest peacefully, and without pain.   what a tragedy, that a people who had set off on a journey of optimistic independence from colonialism should  come to a screeching halt and meet their Waterloo in the quagmire of the Presidency at Aso rock.  Where the President of Goodluck, operated as a rudderless boat in a manner which could only have rivalled the infamous and insignificant presidencies of his predeccessors.  The public could rest assured of one thing only, and that was that it's leadership would continue to entertain the world with it's blatant mediocrity and total absence of imaginativeness which was near comic in it's utter deatchment from the reality of the people.  In effect, the president presented himself as a buffoon who had strong inclinations to jetting around the world in a jet ( whose purchase was misguided) attending international meetings to which he could contribute little or not at all, thereby reiterating to the world at large his own irrelevance.

in a den of thieves continued

Indeed, there was nothing to accuse him of safe of being a reject of society, a fact for which he could not really be held responsible for himself; for he was little more than an angry product of the very society which condemned him to a life of crime and intrigues by virtue of the inherent corrpution upon which it was based, a corruption which denied the rights of the common man in every way imaginable. In its inconsistencies it created a veritable maze of suppressive regulations, and demonstrated that it could only be relied upon to further deface the image of the common man, and dehumanise him to the level of an unwanted creature, or byproduct of creation.  In this society,the common man rubbed shoulders with the rats of the slimy gutters the only difference being that the rats were fat and well fed on the refuse that accumulated unhindered, whilst the men became leaner with barely any extra flesh to spare on their bones.
" tell me Father, tell me, am I sinner to steal?"
For in his mind there existed two parallel reailties which were irreconcileable: in his soul he was still the mild and gentle christian who believed in the resurrection of the dead, and he believed that Jesus was his personal saviour, but he was a robber at night, and he was successful in his trade.  Like a schizophrenic he lived two lives and whilst in either life he faced that wholeheartedly and refused to consider the other