Jos Boy's Tale of the Nigerian Biafra War

By Onwusa Opiah

Jos Boy's Tale of the Nigerian Biafra War is written to bring true reconciliation and to show those who are currently leading many countries of the world that, “you gain nothing by violence.” There is honour in peaceful settlement of any dispute. Onwusa Opiah in this book postulates that an inclusive government with qualified people in positions of authority, in line with their potential, would enable Nigeria to achieve greatness. He defines patriotism as the ability to give up selfish interest for the general good of the people. It encompasses taking action devoid of nepotism and the success of the country and its citizens.
Writing this book is also aimed at correcting the erroneous impression held by many people in Nigeria that the war was fought because the Igbo people wanted to secede. As can explained in the book, this impression cannot be true as the Igbo people called home any place they found themselves in. It is written to provoke readers, that if within two and a half years, Biafra was able to build a refinery and manufacture other things, what stops Nigeria after sixty years of independence?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Jan 31, 2022
• ISBN: 9781398443051

Onwusa Opiah

The author wrote as a correspondent for an e-magazine and two newspapers. He has spoken at events on leadership, current affairs and sermons. He holds a Bachelor of Arts and master’s degree in religious studies and a diploma certificate in writing for young adults. He loves writing and is preparing other manuscripts for publication. Some of them fall under religious genre and some under current affairs.

Book preview

About the Author

The author wrote as a correspondent for an e-magazine and two newspapers. He has spoken at events on leadership, current affairs and sermons.

He holds a Bachelor of Arts and master’s degree in religious studies and a diploma certificate in writing for young adults.

He loves writing and is preparing other manuscripts for publication. Some of them fall under religious genre and some under current affairs.

Dedication

I humbly dedicate this book to my dear family and my parents, Chief Stephen Udeogwu Opiah and Mrs Roseline Nwanyiuzor Opiah. My mother’s hard work and counsel and the books my father gave me to read in my youthful days, helped me a great deal to get to the position I am in today.

Copyright Information ©

Onwusa Opiah 2022

The right of Onwusa Opiah to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

All of the events in this memoir are true to the best of author’s memory. The views expressed in this memoir are solely those of the author.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398443044 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398443051 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2022

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Preface

This book aims to highlight the effects of war in general and specifically the hate that characterised the wanton destruction of lives and properties of the Igbo people in the Northern and some parts of the Southern Regions of Nigeria that eventually led to the Nigeria-Biafra war from July 1967 to January 1970.

It will also help highlight the patriotism of the leaders of the two sides involved in the war. All that are written in this book are verifiable facts. Refutal is, therefore, welcome from anyone with a contrary view, especially any of the leaders of the sides who wishes to. I have not added details of the fighting because I was not a soldier and would never have been as I do not believe in the killing of any human being, and it is never my wish to speak to anyone that took part in the fighting as a soldier or in any other capacity.

I have also mentioned the ranks of the two most visible leaders involved in the war and did not bother to specify the dates of change of their ranks. This is to show that all that I have written are facts from my observation and knowledge of what happened during that war as a teenager. It is also for Nigerians and nations of the world to learn and take correction that war must not be the answer or solution to problems affecting two leaders or peoples.

The nations of the world must come to the realisation that there are always charlatans who may take pecuniary advantage of wars. They relish wars so they can sell the war implements they have manufactured and/or test their effects. Builders or owners of construction companies among them are interested in getting contracts to rebuild infrastructure damaged during the wars.

I likened what happened to the Igbo people before and during that war to what happened to the Jews during the World War II. I believe that the Western world has details of all the genocide committed at the time; perpetrators of those crimes against humanity should be held accountable even if it is only by them showing some penitence.

There is always a payback time for every action, either immediately or later. We must all know that there are consequences to every action. We must all endeavour to keep this in our consciousness.

I sincerely hope and trust that this book will show its readers that on no account must war be the solution to internal struggles or problems. It will help to bring the needed closure to the hate and unreasonableness that led to the Nigeria-Biafra war, as all Nigerians forge ahead to build a virile nation.

–   Onwusa Opiah

Chapter 1

The School Days

My parents originally came from the then Mid-West Region of Nigeria but lived in Jos. It was in Jos that they gave birth to all of us and so by right, we can claim to come from Jos. Our house was very close to an Anglican Church and its school. As a result of this, my parents registered the older children at the Anglican School as the Roman Catholic School and Church were far from our house. My parents did not mind us worshipping at the Anglican Church as we attended school there, but they, being Roman Catholics, worshipped at the Roman Catholic Church, although not regularly. They only did when they felt like it.

The people in that Anglican Church were predominantly Igbos. The service was conducted in Igbo and we sang Igbo songs, I was in the choir and was also a mass servant (at the time called Page Boys) with some of my classmates and friends. I enjoyed the way the service was conducted and always looked forward to attending choir practices. Most of the songs we sing in my present place of worship are songs I learnt from that time. I am still in contact with one of my friends from then till today. We were classmates in the primary school and their house was not far from ours. We also attended choir practice together in the evenings of three days of each week, so we spent a lot of time together. Our services being conducted in Igbo and being in the choir made it possible for me to speak what was called central Igbo.

My parents and other people from the Igbo-speaking area of Mid-West Region were referred to as Hausa-Igbo by the other Igbos because they were believed to behave like the Hausas, who were considered not to be as enterprising as Igbos. The Hausas would always say ba kwomi, meaning that it does not matter. In effect, this seemed to paint the picture of a laid-back attitude to life; they took whatever came their way and were never too serious in the pursuit of anything except some of them. They had a lot of almajiris. These are people who preferred to do nothing other than to sit outside the gates of some rich people with plates in their hands waiting to be called in and offered food. These almajiris carried out whatever command or instruction these rich people gave without question. This was the main difference between them and the Igbos as the Igbos would learn to trade and be on their own from childhood. They could survive under any environment. Non-achievers among them are in the minority. My mother was a trader just like the Igbo people. She was very industrious. I can remember that she, from time to time, travelled by train to the south to buy large quantity of locally distilled gin called ‘illicit gin’. It was called illicit only because the government outlawed it; otherwise, there is hardly any difference between it and the one distilled outside Nigeria except for the percentage of alcohol in them.

On a particular day, my mother returned from her trip to the south where she had gone to buy many tins of the locally distilled gin. The liquid content capacity of each tin was five gallons. Arrival time for the trains was between five and six in the evening or even later each day. There were these wheel barrows made of two wheels and each wheel barrow was operated by an individual. These individuals operating the wheel barrows were paid to transport goods. In local terms, the wheel barrows were called trucks. Usually, as soon as she arrived home like that, we dug holes in our backyard and buried the tins of gin in them before daybreak. We did this to hide them from the police who usually raided our house from time to time in search of this locally distilled gin. I cannot remember them ever being successful in getting anything as we were careful with them. In this particular incident, the next morning about 20 policemen in their usual manner came and surrounded our house. At the time they came, one of the tins had not been buried, but my mother, being a very physically strong person, picked it up and threw it over the fence. No one saw her do it. After some time, the police finished their search and left. It was at this time we knew what happened and went to the back of the fence and brought the tin back to the premises. So my mother was free to continue selling her product. My mother also sold fabrics, which people bought mostly on credit and paid in instalments. It was the duty of my elder brother and I to collect these payments. We succeeded most times, and there were no bad debts. It was this peaceful life-style and freedom from marauders which the war disrupted that really got my mother seriously complaining.

I also observed that whenever an Igbo man died in Jos at that time, masquerades from all the different towns of the Igbo land, and our own town, Aboh, would come and perform during the funeral. Just to mention few of the town’s masquerades, they came from Nnewi, Abagana, Obosi and Abriba. In fact, it was the identity of these masquerades that made me learn about the different towns in Igbo land. Abriba masquerades were particularly scary to us, because we thought that the masquerades were actually carrying human skulls; usually these were three in number. The person carrying those three human-skull-looking-images does not talk at all through the period. We knew this because he with his lips held a quill feather of a porcupine. When we asked why he had that in his mouth, we were told it was to make sure that he did not talk because if he talked, he would die. Those three human-skull-looking-images are placed on something like a rectangular wooden box, and with a pad on the man’s head the box is placed. Through the period, the man carrying the wooden box would not touch the box as to hold it and the box would not fall off his head. We were told that if it fell, the man carrying it would die. That frightened us even more. These masquerades had different characteristics by which we knew them; for instance, that of Obosi, they had people each carrying a small basket with water in it and not one drop of water would leak out. How they did it was a wonder to us at the time. That of my town was tall and from time to time during dancing, he would hit his head on the ground. They were all supposed to have voodoo with them yet these people went to church on Sundays.

At that time in Jos, the Igbos had an organisation called the Igbo Union. The Union, through their self-help, built the Igbo Union Hall, which was rented out to the public for such functions as weddings, funerals and students’ social gatherings during the holidays.

The Igbo Union, also through self-help, built an Igbo Union Secondary School in Kafanchan and another one in a town I am not sure of, but most likely, Kano. It is noteworthy that the secondary schools were of very high standard. As a matter of fact, I strongly desired to gain admission into the Igbo Union Secondary School in Kafanchan. For some inexplicable reason, I felt attending that school would have given me some advantage, but that did not happen. I did not even know when the advert for the entrance examination was out. Usually, announcements were made in most primary schools when it was time for entrance examinations into secondary schools. Pupils would complete forms to apply and then sit for the entrance examinations on the due dates. Those who passed were informed through the schools and they would attend interviews either before or when the schools resumed, depending on the requirements of the various schools. Admission into the Igbo Union Secondary School was very competitive. Igbos