By Chooks Oko
The past few days have been a blur nay nightmare. They are days where various degrees of beliefs I once held dear came tumbling. Certain logic one thought were really logic got spinned anticlockwise. Apparently, humanity happened in complex realities than remain even more complex.
Even now, I am experiencing the proverbial dilemma of a ghost, the one espoused by renowned Ghanaian writer, Ama Ata Aidoo. Should I keep keeping quiet, in my normal nature or jump into the arena? Both sides presented me with no lures. The headache grew. I eventually chose a middle course.
You see, I am a proud son of Amasiri, one who was born and brought up there.
My basic education and preliminary socio-political tutelage are all rooted in the culture, traditions and ways of the people. Despite my later days cosmopolitan postures, I am a native boy by all ramifications. In there, I learnt the sanctity of human life, the respect for the next person’s feelings and good neighbourliness. I remember a time my late grandfather, who was a renowned hunter, will give me bushmeat to go and sell at the junction area.
The junction area! That was another world of its own. Vehicles headed in different directions, human traffic, hawkers of sundry delicacies and wares swarmed around. Most houses in that area were occupied by strangers who were plying their trades and selling their wares.
The Army barracks nearby explained the sprinkling of uniforms sparingly sited around. The town flourished by all standards. These scenes gave way to brief flashes of Ishiagu and Okposi as I journeyed around with my teacher parents in their tours of duty. But the last two years of my primary education was spent at Amasiri.
Then came age eleven, in 1977 when I had to leave for secondary school. I was posted to Government secondary school, Owutu Edda as a member of the second set of that great school. The bulk of friends I have today are from that childhood experience.
Being one of the early schools in Edda land meant that students came from all parts of Edda to the school. That is why there is no part of Edda I do not have close friends. I speak the dialect fluently too.
That is one of the reasons I was personally pained the very first time I learnt of skirmishes between some parts of Amasiri and Oso. Luckily, they are always quickly resolved, or so I thought.
When this particular crisis erupted last year, some of us quietly rallied together, pushing peace efforts as bullishly as we can muster, out of the glaring eyes of the public.
We were relieved when both sides agreed on a demarcation last year. At least, lasting peace was on hand.
We waited on end, but there was no movement on the side of the mediators. We started asking questions.
At a point, we sent emissaries to the Ministry of Border, Peace and Conflict Resolution (I hope I got this right), and was told it was money for movement for the delineation effort that was holding them. They claimed that they were waiting for the two local government Chairmen for the funds. We waited.
I called that office to ask about the cost and also know if we could be allowed to raise the money so they can get the job done. I need to reiterate that I am not from any of the areas where the conflict was happening. But we were trying to ensure that peace reigns. Figures were mentioned, which they said was for logistics of security agents that will accompany them for the exercise.
The money ran into several millions and it was to be for a minimum of three days. We agreed to levy ourselves to raise the money and even asked some people to go to our local government Chairman the following day to find out how we can remit the money to him. Little did we know that fate was playing a curious trick on us.
Hardly have I left a meeting sometime last week when I saw frantic calls on my phone from Azu Dike. Azu is from Oso. Apart from being my brother and friend, we regularly play golf together when I am in Abakaliki. He was using his two numbers to call both my WhatsApp and regular lines.
I picked one and told him I will call him back. When I did, some minutes to midnight, I couldn’t sleep again after our discussion. He told me of the attack at Okporojo and left me disoriented. Who dunnit? Like the Americans would quip. Before morning, I had answered over twenty calls.
A Senior military officer brother and friend woke me up into a group call that included a prominent Okporojo son. This particular officer had been discussing peace in Okporojo with me for some months now. One was helpless as it was difficult ascertaining where the dastardly act was coming from.
When the issue was posted on our alumni platform, my perplexity grew. The actions were barbaric, antihuman and very indefensible. I was still in this state of mind when the avalanche of the government reactions exploded. I felt like a fish out of water.
I saw even supposed close friends shouting crucify Amasiri. We were being painted in all shades of horrific pictures which were very alien to us. I blamed no one. But I know that every community have their deviants who do naughty things without anyone’s prompting.
But in this case, despite all my probing, I couldn’t get a finger on where the wrongdoers could have come from. But I had one conviction, as always, God will punish or reward everyone according to their deeds.
Our dear Governor, you are a man of compassion and a faithful servant of God. Please, do give us a window of doubt. Amasiri is not a land of evil people, we love peace and have paid heavy prices for peace in the past.
In Afikpo and Edda, we all belong to the same Ikwu system. That means that we all have blood relatives in all the corners of these two local governments. We have eternal ties. We can thus not deliberately hurt each other. Please let your anger subside. We are your children, do rebuke us, but please be merciful. In any way we have wronged you please forgive us.
Our people shall remain calm and give you all the necessary support you need for a successful tenure.
To my dear brethren from Amasiri and Edda, asi na iwe nwanne anaghi eru okpukpu. Nayi emete siri. Unu jookwa.
May God continue to grant us His peace.