Anniversary: Survivors Of Kwashiorkor – Memories Of Biafran War Children – Nnamdi Elekwachi

 

Survivors Of Kwashiorkor: The 55th Remembrance Day For Biafra Heroes

PEGASUS REPORTERS, LAGOS | MAY 31, 2022

It was May 1967 at Aba (Enyimba City)! We were in elementary six in primary school and looking forward with enthusiasm to sit the Primary School Leaving Certificate examinations, as well as completing forms for admission into Secondary Schools for the next academic year! It was not to be!

“On Aburi We Stand” took over everywhere you looked, listened, or turned. For all of us children in primary schools across Eastern Nigeria aged from 7-11 years (in elementary 2-6), it had become our first real-life introduction to patriotism and national pride.

Every one of us had sitting next to him or her, another child returnee-refugee from mostly the Northern Nigeria but also from the Western Region, with returnee school children from the North giving us first-hand eye-witness accounts of the massacres of either their parents, fellow children, uncle, cousin, friend, relations or other persons. Many others had had either a family member or kit and kin killed in the North. The gory details of the pogroms in the North starred you right in the face! Were we outraged?!

And so, all the school children of Eastern Nigeria poured out into the streets, joining our parents in demonstrations across all cities and towns in the region demanding that Ojukwu declare Independence from Nigeria. At Enyimba City, we the school children joined the charge and turned Aba into an ocean of humans with monumental tsunamic waves of tree branches and green leaves: “O’sibike anyi e’je ugwuawusa gbuo Gowon, o’sibeke anyi e’je ugwuawusa gbuo Gowon…”. (“If necessary we shall march down to the North to kill Gowon”, we marched and sang in rage). “N’sogbu, n’sogbu, eyimba enyi, n’sogbu, enyimba enyi. Sogbuo nwoke, sogbuo nwanyi, eyimba enyi..” – (“like elephant we shall squash every obstacle on our path, like elephant we shall squash every obstacle on our path, squash men, squash women”, we sang, stamping our feet as we marched in indignation and defiance).

And so it came to pass that on 30th May 1967, exactly 53 years today, Ojukwu declared Eastern Nigeria as the independent Republic of Biafra. Not long after it was reported that the vandals “Nigerian troops” had attacked Biafran border posts to the North in the areas of Nsuka, then Nigerian war planes bombed Owerri, followed by Aba.

The Biafra war had started and we became the Biafran war children!

The Biafran war children spanned the age range from 1 day to 15 years of age. The younger age grades up to 6 years of age bore the greatest brunt of starvation, malnutrition, and Kwashiorkor. They died in millions, killed by the GENOCIDE perpetrated by Nigeria in using hunger and starvation as an instrument of war. Biafra had become blockaded on land sea and air by the combined conspiratorial forces of Nigeria, Britain, Russia, Egypt, and others.

Kwashiorkor (the protein deficiency/malnutrition/starvation disease) became a worldwide image of the Biafra War Children!

Today we remember the millions of Biafran war Children who paid the ultimate price and pray for the repose of their souls. They shall remain forever in our memories! Nothing is forgotten, nothing is forgiven!

However, on the other side of the Kwashiorkor image, were the 7-15 years old children of Biafra, whose great feat and patriotism in the War, were hardly noticed or mentioned. We were almost too young to go to war but many of us went to war, many trained but never got the opportunity to fight, yet others were equally grown, mature and discerning to contribute to the war effort in many other respects. Today we remember and pay homage to them!

There were the children who lead, fought, and won great victories for Biafra in their minds, dreams, and fantasies, liberating our occupied towns and cities, inspired by great Biafran victories at Abagana, Uzoakoli, Oguta, the heroism of the likes of Corporal Nwafor, Effiongs, the Onwuatuegwus, Basseys, Colonel Achuzies and a host of other innumerable heroes.

We were the children who would not only fantasise about but would actually climb up an “ugba” (oil bean) tree with a catapult in hand, taking aim at a low flying Russian MiG and letting go the pebble in a bid to shoot it down or at least smash its glass and possibly hurt the pilot! Oh how we shot down so many vandal Russian Migs in our fantasies using dane guns and whatever objects our minds could conjure to hurl at them! We kept hope alive within Biafra in our belief in our victory!

But Biafran war children did more than fantasise. They formed the heart and soul of the Biafran S&T Command (Supply & Transport). We were the ones who would load and offload the tractors and trucks of yams, vegetables, garri, fish and other farm produce and food supplies from local markets and farms to Biafran Army S&T deports. We would load the tractors and trucks that took supplies away to the war fronts.

We were the best hunters anywhere in the World.

We would go hunting with den guns and the rare double or single-barrelled short guns. We would lead packs of Igbo hunter dogs into the bushes and hunt game. We would hunt down hyena, deer, grass-cutter and on one and on one lucky occasion during the war, we fought a war against a herd of about 15 bush pigs that were on stampede running from the heavy raging battles at nearby Egbema. We hunted the herds for 3 full days until we killed them all. The entire Oru area of Biafra was awash with rare meat for a week and more with all the local markets filled with meat from our hunt. We would set traps for all manner of wild-life game – grasscutter (ewi), squirrels, hyenas, even birds! And we caught them plenty enough to feed as many Biafrans as possible.

We were the best fishermen any nation could have.

We would go fishing along the Njiaba River. Often we had canoe as far as close to Oguta Lake. We would regularly go night fishing (ntupiri) with our headlamps and return about 6-7am the next morning, each often with a bucket full of fresh river fish. Fishing was most exciting during the ‘iju” when the Njiaba River overflows its banks and takes over kilometres of land from inflows coming from the Atlantic Ocean, coming into Oguta Lake, and flowing inwards along the rivers from inland of which Njiaba is one. During “Iju” we would often catch up to basket-full of fish each. It was a time of plenty as bigger sized ocean fish come in from the Atlantic Ocean along with the inflowing seawater!

We, the Biafran war children would feed our families, some of the starving population and Biafran soldiers with meat from the games we hunt and our catch of fish. In Biafra then meat and fish were the most luxurious delicacies that anyone could have! We the children of Biafra provided the much we could of them to our people!

Biafran war children were also the farmers.

We would go to farms for our parents, many of whom were at war fronts. Our elder brothers were on battlefields or other engagements in the war effort. We took over the farms and the fields. We would take turns to clear the bushes for our mothers often in groups (“itunga oru”). We would prepare and burn off the cleared bushes. We would till the ground and prepare the farm for cultivation and planting. We would farm the land, planting yams, corn or maize, pumpkin, and other vegetables. We would cultivate cassava – the stem/food of life in Biafraland. We would weed the farms and we would harvest them too.

Feeding Biafra fell on our shoulders

We were also gatherers, going into the bushes to catch crickets and so many various edible insects like grasshoppers and certain edible caterpillars of which Biafraland is abundantly blessed. We would go pick snails from the bushes and gardens, especially at the advent of the rainy season. We would pick wild fruits from the bushes and come home with enough to feed everyone. We would harvest cashews, guava, mango, pawpaw, sweet potato, various wild vines/grapes, and countless varieties of fruits growing abundantly in our forests and bushes. We would harvest wild yams and coco-yams growing in previously harvested farms that were now bushland left to mature for future farming seasons. We would harvest wild bananas, plantains and other foods growing abundantly in our blessed bushes and forests.

We also learnt to be palm wine tappers as we took on skills in the things our elders would normally do had they been around. You started learning the ropes from taping palm wine off felled palm trees, which variety is called “itu”, before you progressed and graduated to tapping wine from live standing palm trees called “nkwu elu” or “up wine” variety. Our elders were at the war fronts so we meritoriously and ably filled the void and wore their shoes at the home front.

Biafran war children were builders and craftspeople too.

We were the ones that learnt to and made roofing taches and roofed homes, cut the palm fronds to mask or camouflage buildings and military supplies. We dug up mud, moulded mud and built houses and fences for motherland. We would craft baskets, mats and beds for our markets and ensure enough supply of brooms, building materials and utensils in our markets, communities, and homes.

The Biafra children of war came to learn and experience first-hand that Biafraland is the true Garden of Eden – the land filled with milk and honey, lacking in nothing that God ever made. Biafraland is the land in the World where wine, the best champagnes flow straight from a tree naturally without any processing. You would walk into bushland or a forest and behold all you ever want to eat growing in the wild.

We the Biafran war children also took bombs, rockets and bullets for our motherland, Biafra!

We heard every shot fired, every shell that exploded, and we bore the brunt of every bomb dropped, every rocket and cannon fired from Russian Migs. They bombed our homes, our bushes, camps, and hospitals, they strafed us with machine guns from jet fighters at our farms, playgrounds and even along our rivers where we fished! We learned to recognise and distinguish between the sounds of every military machine ever made at the time – gun, shell, mortar, jet fighters, bombers, tanks, bazookas, buffer, SLR, LMG, HMG, Mark 2, Mark 4, “Ogbunigwe”, “Ojukwu Bucket”, name it! You would wake up or sleep to the songs/sounds of war – “kwa kwa kwa kwa kwa kwa, unu dum”, “kwa, kwa, kwa”, kwara, kwara kwara, unu dum”, kwapu, kwapu, kwapu, kwapu, unu dum” and depending on the strength of the song/sound, we would know when to dance along to it and when it is time to seriously listen to the song and beat it to the bushes and forests. The first parts of the song/sound “kwa kwa…” are attempts to say the igbo word “kwara” which means “packup” as in “packup your belongings” or get ready to leave!. And “unu dum” is igbo expression for “all of you”. Simply put, the first distant part of the song is attempting to warn you to “pack up your belongings, all of you”, but because the song is coming from so far away, it is unable to complete the word ‘kwara” or “pack up”. Another explanation is that the singers are so few, so they are not singing loud enough yet. Then the music graduates as it becomes louder and comes closer to you with more intensity and completes the words “kwara, kwara, unu dum” (packup, packup, packup, all of you). At that point, it is about time to leave! By the time the tune changes to “kwapu, kwapu, kwapu, unu dum” (get out, get out, get out, all of you), no one need tell you that the vandals are only a few kilometres away and mortar or shells are about to land all around you, if not the bullets themselves!

In all of that, we still remained the children we were. We acted naughty atimes, some often as normal kids would. We would once in a little while acquire a packet of marse cigarrets and head to the bush away from elders, where we had smoked like chimnies all afternoon. We had eye and discuss the most beautiful damsels God ever created, the “eves” of Biafraland. We played “mums” and “dads” with childhood heartthrobs naturally pairing with each other. We went to schools hidden in bushland under the palm and iroko trees away from the ever prowling Russian MiGs. We would play hide and sick, football, wrestling and the games that children play. We would go to moonlight plays at early nights under the shade of iroko and “ube” (pear) trees while enemy aircraft hovered overhead and often discharging their payloads of bombs and rockets on any sign of light, sometimes in the bushes! We dived for cover every so often that it became a natural part of life. We often feared for our lives as all kids would, but we also learned, knew and took appropriate safety measures to minimise the risk of harm from mindless enemy genocidal actions against an unarmed Biafran civilian population.

We were the Biafran war Children! We courageously fought, died, and survived, so Biafrans may live.

We are the children of Biafra; we carried and carry Biafra on our shoulders and our heads too!

We remember you all the Biafran war children today and always!

By Nnamdi Elekwachi

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