"Na so world be o!
Soldier come, soldier go,
Na so world be o!"
The music continued to blare from the loud speaker,
irritating Ijeoma all the more. "Please Colonel, come
and change this cassette. Its message is ominous and
makes me uncomfortable," she respectfully said. He
flashed her a patronizing smile and hurried towards
the radio set to do as she bid. He came over to the
colonial style settee where Ijeoma was seated; his
demeanour that of a man who would do anything for his
lover. Squeezing his bulky frame beside her as he sat
down, she instinctively shifted farther from him.
Unperturbed, he took her hands in his and drew her
close to himself as if comforting her.
"Ije, you have to accept that Dike, your husband, is
dead. The plane in which he was traveling according to
reports crashed and dashed to pieces. There were no
survivors." As he told her all this, his eyes were on
hers, lustfully desiring her, and more than ever, his
eyes brimmed hatred for Dike. "Why should he be
married to the only woman I could ever love? This
angel that glitters like jewels," he thought.
Ijeoma was exasperated. Why could no one understand
her point of view? Her instinctive female intuition
convinced her that Dike was alive, if not hale and
hearty. Now this lecherous colonel who was the only
one who could help her had his eyes on her. Colonel
Kalu's lust for her she was now sure of. He disgusted
her. "Dike, this body is meant for you alone," she
told him in her heart. She knew that wherever he was
he could hear her. Weren't they of one heart and soul?
Colonel Kalu was beginning to get impatient and angry.
‘What fools some women can be.’ He had
waited enough. It was now eight months since the news
had been brought to him that the plane bringing in
relief materials from Lisbon had crashed, killing and
destroying all that were in it. To think all the joy
he had felt was for nothing. That all his scheming had
come to naught he could never accept. He had beheld
Ijeoma at the party held for senior officers of the
Biafran army to mark his promotion to the rank of a
colonel. She had clung to the arms of Dike, his
assistant. One look at her, and he was lost. Her
innocent smiles as she abashedly greeted him, her
glowing complexion, and her beautiful dancing hazel
eyes took him prisoner. He felt a thousand daggers
strike his heart as Dike saluted and said:
"Sir, this is my wife, Ijeoma. She was in nursing
school before the war started."
Unknown to Dike, he had dug his grave that night, as
far as Colonel Kalu was concerned. Colonel Kalu was
sure of one thing - he had to have Ijeoma. He did not
care if he had to resort to David’s style in
snatching Bathsheba from Uriah. All that he cared for
was to have her to himself.
"Ijeoma, you have to get on with your life. Did not
Jesus say: 'Allow the dead to bury the dead?’
You have to accept that Dike is lost to you forever
now. I am sure that wherever he is, he is happy that
you have at least honoured his memory by mourning for
him this long. I love you, Ijeoma. I feel for you.
Your sorrows are like a sword piercing my heart. Oh!
How my heart bleeds for you. You were not meant to be
a widow. I would marry you and take care of you.
Please say yes to my proposal. Marry me, Ijeoma. My
jewel, please say yes.”
She snatched her hands from him, and sprang up from
the settee as if bitten by a thousand idide.
“You will never have me, Colonel Kalu," she
screamed at him. "Is that all you can do? I have been
pleading with you to search for Dike. He is not dead.
My spirit tells me so. Now all you think of is
marrying me. It would be over my dead body." She began
to cry. This angered Colonel Kalu all the more. He had
suddenly lost all patience with her.
Colonel Kalu stood, towering above her, his hands in
his trouser pockets, and his eyes blazing red with
fury at being thwarted. "I am sorry, Ijeoma. But you
have to marry me. You have no choice. You either
accept or live in squalour and .poverty. I would hate
to see you join the teeming millions of homeless,
hopeless Biafran refugees, scavenging about for a
spoon of powdered milk and cornmeal. You have only but
one week to vacate the officer's flat where you and
Dike lived. My new assistant would be packing in by
next week. You have this one week to decide to marry
me, and then, you could simply pack into my bungalow
and enjoy the bliss of being my wife. Dike was my
assistant, and he confided in me. So, be rest assured
that I know you have no place to go.”
Ijeoma angrily left his house, blinded by tears. She
was left all alone in this world. Oh! This world has
not been fair to her. She remembered the tragedy that
had befallen her. The shock she had felt when she had
realized that she no longer had a family.
* * *
The School of Nursing, Emekuku, was situated in a
rural area. The students were cut off from the
day-to-day happenings in the nation - no newspapers,
radio or television. This was because preoccupied as
they were with nursing the teeming rural population
from far and near (drawn by the mission
hospital’s reputation of striking off illnesses
with a flip of their fingers, and keeping death at a
distance), and studying for their professional exams,
they had no time for social engagements, nor
unsolicited news. Ijeoma was in her final year as a
student nurse. She was preparing for her final exams.
She was in the library studying when a ward maid came
to inform her that she had a visitor. She rarely had
visitors, so she had hurried to the common room to see
for herself who it was. She was surprised to see
Obioha. What could he have traveled all the way from
Kano to see her for? Well, she was pleased to see him.
He would have news of her father, mother and three
brothers. They were neighbours in Sabongari, Kano.
They exchanged pleasantries and she noticed that he
seemed nervous and undecided. This was surprising.
Obioha had never been known to be nervous. A student
of the Kano College of Arts and Sciences, he was very
eloquent. It was unimaginable that his evocative
powers should fail him. She smiled at him, hoping that
her smiles would put him at ease. Obioha, who hailed
from their town, Obowo, was a constant visitor at
their house in Kano. She saw no reason why he was
tongue-tied in her presence.
"How are Papa, Mama and my brothers: Chidi, Emeka and
Ugonna?" she asked. She had terribly missed them. As
soon as she finished her final exams, she would go to
them in Kano.
"They are all dead, murdered by the Hausas," Obioha
said, closing his eyes, as he recalled the gory
details of the brutal massacre of a family who had
made him one of them. The Hausas had rioted against
the Ibos. They suddenly did not want them in their
land again. They moved round the city, especially at
Sabongari area where they lived, killing them in
thousands and looting their properties. Obioha had
been lucky to escape back to Ibo land. But not before
seeing the mangled corpses of Ijeoma's parents and
brothers. Ijeoma now found herself without a family. A
week later, Colonel Ojukwu declared the Biafran
Republic and the Biafran war began. Obioha came to
tell her he was joining the army. “I want to
defend my fatherland,” he said. That was the
last she heard of him. With no place to call home, she
had instantly married Dike, a young major in the
Biafran army, as soon as he proposed. She had later on
fallen in love with him. Now, the lifeline Dike
offered to her was no more. It would be difficult to
guess she was only twenty-three years. She had known
much sorrow and her grief was immense.
"Oh! Dike my love, why did you have to leave me?"
Ijeoma lamented. She remembered the day he had left
for Lisbon as if it were only yesterday. "Dike
darling, must you go? Can't your boss be made to
understand that you are on your honeymoon? I am just
not comfortable with you going. Only yesterday I had
heard in the news that a Caritas plane bringing in
relief materials was gunned down by federal troops.
Darling, please, I don't want you in unidentified
ashes.”
"Ijeoma be rest assured that I would be coming back.
God would surely see to that. Colonel Kalu is my boss.
I have to obey his orders. The relief agencies no
longer bring in relief materials for fear of their
being gunned down by federal troops. If no relief is
brought in, the hungry children of Biafra, our
fatherland would die. So we have to go down there and
bring in the relief materials despite the threats of
being gunned down."
"Is that part of your duties, Dike? One would think
that guarding cargoes of relief is far below the
duties of a Major. Can't someone else go?"
"You are right, Ijeoma. But my boss wants me to go. I
have to obey the last order. Don't forget, Ijeoma,
that I am a soldier." The horns of the Land Rover
blared loudly, disturbing the peace and tranquility of
the neighbourhood. "I am off, darling," he said,
hurriedly taking her in his arms and stamping a kiss
on her forehead. "Goodbye darling, I promise I would
come back to you." He reluctantly pushed her away from
him, grabbed his suitcase and away he went. That was
the last she saw or heard of him. As she trekked home,
she wept and sang a dirge:
"Dike, where are you?
My love where are you?
Forever you would love me,
You promised solemnly.
Surely, you would come back.
Wasn't it your promise?
Dike, where are you?"
Ijeoma sang on, weeping, as she trudged on to the home
where she had had joy, albeit briefly, but which now
bore her sorrow. To her surprise she saw a Land Rover
parked in front of her flat. She hurried on. Perhaps
whoever it was had news of Dike. She had not ceased to
hope. Did not her heart tell her that her love was
still alive?
* * *
When the plane had been bombed and was crashing, Dike
had struggled hard, knowing that he had to survive, at
least for Ijeoma's sake. He had not panicked but had
prepared himself for the worst. He had jumped out of
the plane as soon as it hit the ground, and was lucky
to scurry out to safety before it had burst into a
huge ball of thunderous flame. He had sustained
excessive injuries and was captured by the federal
troops. They would have finished him off immediately.
"Nyamiri banza ne," they said, ready to strike.
"Dan Allah, Kutanmeke ni," Dike pleaded in Hausa
Language, which was what saved him. They had taken him
to their commander who ordered that he be taken to the
hospital to recuperate from whence he was taken to the
prisoner of war prisons. Back in Biafra everyone
thought he was dead.
* * *
“Make una come o! Somebody don die,”
Essien, one of the inmates in Dike’s cell
screamed, banging at the door. Usman, the sentry on
guard, rushed to the scene, thinking:
“Another mouth to feed gone.” They would
drag his body out and throw it among the heap of
bodies waiting for mass burial. As Dike’s body
was towed along, bloody, the wounds from the plane
crash putrefying, his spirit returned to his body, and
he screamed:
“Ije, Darling! Don’t cry. I am coming
back.” He promptly slipped back, the coma
reclaiming him.
“Kai! This Nyamiri spirit strong well
well,” Usman said, worrying that Dike’s
ghost would come to haunt him. He put his hand into
his pocket and brought out a small bottle of ogogoro.
He hurriedly gulped a mouthful. He filled his mouth
again with the local gin, splattering it over
Dike’s face, to appease his spirit. Dike came
round again, screaming:
“Ije, I am coming to you,” this time,
opening his eyes for some seconds before slipping back
again.
“Dan Iska,” Usman screamed, hauling
Dike’s body to the corridor of the
Commandant’s quarters, screaming at the top of
his voice: “This Nyamiri banza is dead but
alive.” The commandant ordered that Dike be
taken to the camp clinic. At the clinic, Dr Bankole
promptly went to work, and Dike’s life was
saved.
* * *
There was no one in the Land Rover. "Who parked this
car here?" Ijeoma wondered. Suddenly, she saw him, her
man, standing under a mango tree, looking as handsome
as ever, albeit much thinner and gaunt looking. He
looked smart in his navy blue coloured Biafran suit.
He was quite dark in complexion, very tall at about
six feet four inches, and broad shouldered. He had
beautiful dark close-cropped hair that he always
styled in the most modern afro. But his hair had been
shaved as a result of the injuries he had sustained
during the crash. His scalp was now bare.
She did not stop to think. Though exhausted and worn
out by her sorrows, her feet propelled by love carried
her in speed as she ran and flung herself into his
outstretched arms. "Dike, darling, you are back at
last."
"Yes, my love. Did I not promise you that I would be
back? Your love sharpened my survival instincts and
resolve, and here am I." They stood there, under the
shade of the mango tree, for what seemed to them like
eternity, her face buried in his chest, his arms
around her. She raised her face to his.
"Dike Darling,"
"Yes, my Love."
"Our love has triumphed at last."
Later, Dike told her of his exploits. One day, he had
been recuperating in the hospital when a young colonel
came in to see a patient lying on the next bed. As the
colonel spoke, Dike thought he had heard that voice
before. Suddenly recognition dawned on him.
“Mohammed Bako!” he screamed.
“Yes?” the colonel coolly asked, frowning
at this attempt at
familiarity by a rebel.
“You were my senior prefect at Barewa College,
Zaria,” Dike
said. “Don’t you remember me? I was your
boy in those days.”
“Hm!” the colonel grunted, wondering what
to make of this
damned rebel.
“You’ve forgotten? You gave me your
leather sheathed
dagger when you were leaving in 1952. Then I was in
form two,” Dike said, his eyes pleading for
acceptance. That seemed to do the magic.
“You are the Nyamiri boy who used to do my
washing for
me?” the colonel half asked, half stated.
“It is I, Dike.”
“What happened to you?” the colonel asked.
Dike told him
his story. He added that he needed to go back to
Ijeoma. She needed him. A week later Dike was
released. The colonel had negotiated for his
unconditional release, on grounds of ill health. The
colonel himself drove Dike to the enemy line (Biafran
border) where Dike had to trek the remaining distance
to the Biafran army camp. It was there that he got the
Land Rover with which he drove home.
The Biafran Government, on hearing of his exploits,
made
him a hero and promptly promoted him. Colonel Kalu
applied for a transfer. He could not bear to face
Dike. Neither did he ever look at Ijeoma again.