•Victims of Asaba Civil War genocide
Augustine Egbuiwe, the great mind who had refused the Ovie’s security plans in Ughelli was among the top civil servants, businessmen, professionals, that fell at Ogbeosowa. A pioneer without compare, a civil servant of the highest dedication, was shot without qualms.
D.N. Mordi – “His Excellency”
His car plate number read M. A. 1. His postal address was P. O. Box 1, Kings Street, Asaba. Standing opposite that address was a school established by the Anglican Mission in 1882. He was No. 1 and the community called him “His Excellency… Money Road. “By his comportment, orientation and mode of dressing, D. N. believed in the number One.
President of the Pensioneer’s Union in 1967, he retired as the first African Chief Clerk of a trading unit of the United African Company in Sapele. He went on to become one of the greatest community leaders of his era. The sobriquet, “His Excellency” was won through his many exemplary deeds and many indeed were these. For instance, at some point he had been so concerned, upon learning, that most of the women who travelled into town from the neighbouring towns of Ibusa, Issele-Ukwu, Illah, Ogwashi-Ukwu and Issele Asagba were usually very thirsty, after covering distances on foot to the market. These women, in a pattern so typical of the continent, would arrive carrying all sorts of wares in their baskets and would need a place to refresh after selling off their goods in the morning hours. Mr. Mordi promptly commissioned very bid pots of water, and bought labourers to fill up the pots with clean stream water. A grin of satisfaction was his reward while watching these amazing, strong-willed women stop by at No. 1, Kings Street, quenching their thirst in turns.
There was also another story of his generosity. In those days there had been no pipe-borne water. Most people went straight to a freshwater spring by the River Niger for refreshment. Subsequently, more reports reached him that during the rainy seasons the river’s stony beaches got slippery and dangerous for youngsters who want there to draw water for their parents. In fact, every year an ample number of people would drown in accidents resulting from those slippery falls. ‘His Excellency’ took it upon himself to correct that anomaly and within few days constructed and laid into the river’s approach stony steps that made it possible for the little hilly beaches to hold for stable descent either to the main river – or to the Ngene stream running out from inside the rocks as spring water. The Ngene stream is one of the several rivulets that fed the 1000-mile river that stretched from the Futa Jalon Mountains in Sierra Leone all the way to the creeks and swamps that emptied into the Atlantic ocean and whose oil deposits would be the foundation of Nigeria’s vast wealth of the late 20 century.
Fanatically anti-pagan, D.N. Mordi avoided the native fetish or its glorified chieftaincy titles. In order not to be out-staged or ridiculed by the titled men, he decided to dramatize his own values and aspirations. For the exceptional Eze title, he bought himself an American Big One… a Chevrolet Limousine. No Eze in Nigeria had that type of car. On the other hand, the Ezes brandished white pieces of rope around their ankles as symbols of authority. In forsaking the very prestigious Alor title, Mordi bought himself a Vauxhall saloon car. For the Ogbu title, specially reserved for the foolhardy, “His Excellency” showcased a Jeep! All the three cars were custom-made with custom-designed numbers MA 1-the same car number he later shared with the Premier. Nevertheless, when the great man died his people knew his was not an Ogba Mkpisi.. a commoner’s death. They quickly rehabilitated him according to Asaba customs, with an Alor title; thus he was buried excellently, just the way he lived his life.
Ironically, the day he fell at Ogbeosowa, Captain Olu of the Nigerian army had provided him with identification passes to ensure his safety.
According to Mrs. Halim, it was on account of those promises of safety that the Idigbe family mistakenly re-surfaced from their hiding places. His Excellency was very close to Chief Alexander Idigbe, the father of the Chief Justice. He sent word to him and Idigbe’s brother, Okolie to join them at the Nnebisi Road address. “We were busy preparing meals for the Federal soldiers”, said Mrs.Halim, “when those “Gwodogwodo” people rushed in and ordered everybody to Ogbeosowa. Alexander Idigbe mentioned Captain Olu’s pass. The soldiers were evil and replied that they were not interested.”
Meanwhile, the younger brother to D.N. Mordi came down from his ceiling hide-out at No.1 King’s Street, Gabriel could no longer tolerate the molestation his brother was receiving from the soldiers. He decided to be taken along with him to Ogbeosowa. At the square, D.N. Mordi, his brother Gabriel Mordi, and his relatives Alexander and Okolie Idigbe, were separated from their wives and children. George, a seminarian, refused and fought back the soldiers, who wanted him to let go of his father.
When the machine guns exploded, D. N. Mordi, sensing the inevitable beckoned on his people to escape. In the end about four Mordis, three Gwams and two Idigbes, and many other relations from the same family and two Idigbes, and many other relations from the same family tree, lay still. It was a disaster for some families who lost all their male members in a single day, implying the permanent closure of lineages that might have been in existence since the dawn of time.
‘Goodbye, Your Excellency’.
Christian and Eddy Chukwurah – A Television Nightmare
It was prime time and Brigadier Adeyinka Adebayo, Military Governor of Western State was on the Ibadan Television Newsline. The Newscaster on that October 1967 edition mentioned Asaba and the Governor turned to face his audience. He said that he was returning to Ibadan after a tour of the war zones. He was sorry that the beautiful town of Asaba, noted for its pretty people, was burning, and civilians were being killed in large numbers.
As Brigadier Adebayo was cued out, a chilling montage of burning houses and sprawling victims of the massacres filed out across the screen “as soon as I saw the first pictures, I knew it was my brother Chris lying face down. On his top in a bloody mess was my younger brother, Eddy.” That was how in one day, October 6, 1967, Olisa Chukwurah, Nigeria’s renowned constitutional lawyer, lost his father and two brothers. For him the everlasting nightmare of losing all these men, in one fleeting moment of time came through the immediacy of television news. These two brothers were among the first victims of the Asaba massacre. On October 5, due to the heavy firing in town, the family had moved to Umuezei quarters. The following day, the 6th, they were returning to their homes when they were arrested by the federal troops. Before the Post Office junction, the soldiers subjected them to a series of humiliating taunts, and at a point the eldest of the Chukwurahs a retired Sergeant of the West African Frontier Force (WAFF), questioned the discipline of the soldiers. He was no longer ready to take any more humiliation. Before his family he was his directly on the head. Among them was his younger brother Eddy, an English-trained engineer who had a contract for the reconstruction of the Isheagu-Asaba road. It was while he was in Onitsha purchasing materials for the contract that he was cut off from his Isheagu station. The soldiers hit the handsome man by the side of the face.
Despite the close range of the shooting, he was still breathing for a long time and needed help. His sister, a matron with the Anglican Girls Grammar School, Asaba saw her two brothers on the ground, and came running.
“Chris was dead by the time I arrived on the scene at the corner of the Post Office road. Eddy’s face gushed out blood each time he managed to breathe”, lamented the matron.
“Mama, look at Uncle”, was her little son’s cry. Later, her other brother Olisa was, without warning confronted with the same grotesque pictures in far-away Ibadan, put out by insensitive television editors. Sooner or later, “those who committed those havoc will pay for it”, he consoled himself.
When the tragic news of the death of the two brothers reached their father, the old man lost his world. He needed explanation on why his sons were shot in cold blood. The soldiers out for more young blood ignored him. Papa Chukwurah, a Chief Clerk in the Nigeria colonial government since the 1930s’ was not the type to be ignored. He burst out on the soldiers. The soldiers were surprised at the old man’s audacity. Like his sons they crucified him.
Those were the types of pictures seldom used by television in any civilized society, or one aspiring to attain such description. Television is a cool medium. On account of its transcendental powers, care is often taken in editing volatile commodities for the consumption of a restive audience trapped in the violence and exigency of war.
Chuks Mommy Momah – For the Love of a Woman
The civil war in Asaba presented to the federal soldiers a ‘romantic opportunity’ to get to and in many cases, kidnap, the famous beauties of the River Niger. That many top army commanders came eventually to share the same pillows with Western Ibo women is not unconnected with the 1967 Asaba operations. One of those house operations ended on very sad unforgettable note in the case of Chuks Momah, a debonair salesman from the “Coal City” Enugu, who had returned to Umuezei quarters, and was well known to soldiers in both armies.
He was popular on both sides. Indeed, a Federal platoon had arrived at his one-storey building and steered clear. An officer however, apprehended his wife. Chuks Momah regarded his wife as a sacred cow. The beautiful woman should never be contaminated. For the love of his wife and with his bare hands, Chuks Momah fought off the invaders. A few bursts of the sub-machine gun, mortally felled him.
For the love of a woman, a great soul was cut down in his prime.
Babatunde Onukwu – A Family waste
While Asaba and Isheagu may claim the blood prize for the highest number of the victims of the Nigerian civil war, Ogwashi-ukwu stands out for producing the Onukwu family, the family that lost the highest number of filial casualties in one day-Iweadizia, Ndufodu, Anisimbili, Ogbogu, Babatunde and Augustine were on that fateful day lined up against a firing squad. Their names bore symbolic meanings worth recalling:
Iweadizia – Anger is gone
Ndufofu – While there is life
Anisimbili – I shall live
Ogbogu – The one to end the strive
Babatunde – Our father has returned
The Onukwu family proved to be so unlucky because their family house stood adjacent to the main crossroad of the town. A Federal Army Commander on the previous day had been killed in an ambush. As it was their normal practice, Federal troops dealt with anybody they encountered after such an incident.
Christian Babatunde Onukwu, son of a Nigeria Police Inspector, had gone into hiding on the approach of the troops. He was already a medical student, having passed the entrance examinations to read medicine at Ibadan in 1967. This was the culmination of an academic excellence that Babatunde had maintained since leading his class at Government College, Ughelli. After graduating from High School, he taught Physics, Chemistry and Mathematics at Ozoro Teachers’ College, Ozoro.
When the soldiers came he had taken refuge in the bush behind his father’s house. Later he argued with his mother that as long as he was not a soldier there was no need to continue hiding. When eventually, he came out, he was ordered to join his brothers who had been lined up facing a firing squad. The squad was merciless. Ogbogu was the only survivor. A huge hole, created by an exiting bullet almost separated his hips from his buttocks. He was writhing in pains and later in the night announced to Babatunde’s mother. “The Onukwu children have been wiped out; please take care of my children”.
Captain Ebube – The Show me Pilot
Captain Ebube was in that batch of the Nigeria Air Force personnel trained in West Germany, shortly before the war. Unlike his in-law, Captain Ozieh, who took sides with the Federal Army, Captain Ebube escaped to Biafra after the fall of his hometown Ogwashi-Ukwu to the Federal troops.
When he learnt of the Federal atrocities he jumped into his cockpit and started displaying sorties in the air that soon attracted crowds in Port Harcourt. He would fly up in those helicopters and suddenly in a dare devil turn around start plummeting tails down to the ground. War-weary Port Harcourt residents would whistle in appreciation and wonder. One day after inviting his relations, including then Vice Chancellor of the University of Port Harcourt, Professor Okonjo, Captain Ebube almost crashed into the Kingsway Stores. But then just as he was about hitting the roof, the maverick pilot somersaulted and veered into Alice’s wonderland. After all, was he not the most respected chopper pilot in the force?
One day to the end of the war, Ebube with his good old pal and fellow Western Ibo pilot Captain Ogbolu, went to one of those few parties that were reserved for the selected few in the enclave. The party over and with visibility very low, the Captain was advised to pass the night.
But the young pilot must return to base. That night the chopper and its pilots did not go far. The helicopter collided with a palm tree and that was the last flight of this prince from Ogwashi-Ukwu. He was the airman’s ideal. Indeed a brother of his, Martin Ebube, a Washington DC – based graphics designer, would relate to the author in the United States that Captain Ebube used to land in their village in the heat of the war.
Chris Ogbolu – Once upon a time
The Nigerian civil war ended up being personal wars for so many Western Ibos. Carol Okonweze, the beautiful daughter of an Akwukwu civil servant had lost her celebrated husband, Colonel Gabriel Okonweze, in the counter-coup of July 1966.
For a long time she and her family refused consolation. It was the bubbling effervescence and the strong support of her younger brother, Captain Chris Ogbolu, fresh from an Air Force training course in West Germany that kept her going.
All through the family’s ordeal and refugee experiences in the Biafran enclave, Chris stood by his family. An old boy of St. Patrick’s College, Asaba, Chris returned from Germany in 1966, the youngest pilot of the Nigerian Air force. This group included Tony Ikhazaboh as well as the likes of Anumalor, Okpere, and so on. Ogbolu would fight on the Biafran side in defence of his people.
Always loyal to friends and colleagues, it was this great personal virtue that prompted his decision to join his pal in the same ill-fated Ebube-piloted flight on a night when visibility turned out to be zero.
That crash and the tragic death of these two Western Ibo pilots cut open the scars, and the sorrows returned to a Nigerian lady who in a single national strife lost the two great men of her life. Caro Okonweze, inconsolable, continued to fight her private wars whenever there is the clattering sound of a helicopter or a cracking ripple of a pistol.
For once upon a time
When the eyes lose their mists
Nightmares succumb to sunshine
Up with the Angles and the stars
Rests my brother, Chris
My sweetest memories
Once upon a time
Chief Utomi Onianwa – the Izoma-Onyaa of Asaba
He was a government gazette traditional chief, an indigene of Umu-Anumudu village, in Umu-Agu quarters town. About 70 years old, he was a retired Postmaster who had served in Enugu, Lagos, Owerri, Kano, Onitsha, Warri.etc.
Chief Utomi Onianwa represented the Asagba of Asaba at the Ogbeosowa reception where the Asaba community gave a Civil Reception to the federal troops. At about 4:00 pm, he read the Welcome Address on behalf of His Royal Highness, the Asagba of Asaba, the Asagba-In-Council and the entire Asaba Community. Thereafter, he made a presentation to the Federal troops. He explained that members of Asaba community were law-abiding and loyal and would give the Federal troops maximum co-operation.
Shortly after receiving the typed welcome address and the presents, the federal troops separated the men from the women in the crowd of about 4,000 people who had come to receive them. The genocide-inclined troops had laid ambush in the bushes around the reception venue, where Asaba had ironically gathered to welcome them.
These men in uniform adorned with the official insignia of the Armed Forces of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, “trained” professionals drawn from the battalions of the Second Division, led by officers trained at Sandhurst, name it – had without warning, opened fire on the unsuspecting, unarmed and innocent civilians.
A lucky survivor among a handful, Obi Utomi Onianwa who was on the front line of the civil reception party was struck on the thigh by a bullet. He fell to the ground unconscious. Other civilian victims who were hit by bullets fell on him. Later in the night, at about 8.00 pm, Chief Onianwa re-gained consciousness, possibly because of the cooling night breeze. He pushed aside the dead bodies that had lain lifeless over him and managed to get up. He then started limping in pain and commenced to go home.
