Adaptation from the yet-to-be published novel, A SEASON OF THE SUN by Ahaoma Kanu

The hospital where I was assigned was constantly busy throughout the period of the attacks. Day after day, soldiers wounded in battle were brought over mainly by porters on foot with very few arriving on trucks, only a few made it on their own. The intensity of the war at that period made it impossible for the Red Cross to fly in their supplies which made us run out of stock. The bandages got finished completely that we had no option than to remove already used bandages from patients that were older in the ward to be washed and used on fresh causalities. Three qualified and elderly nurses came over from Umuahia to help us out and another young doctor arrived from Orlu.

The constant arrival of the wounded, nearly dead and dead causalities made the added human resources unnoticed. Dr. Nwosu worked day and night; we worked during the day fear and uncertainty.  Many of the casualties that went into the surgery room were carried out dead because, at a time, operations were carried out without anaesthetic. The patients watched their shattered limbs and arms gruesomely cut off their body. This led to many of them dying of haemorrhage.

One night, I watched as a soldier carried in another wounded comrade, the wounded one was very elderly while the person that brought him was younger almost as young as me if not for his enhanced biceps. As I showed them a place to lay the wounded man down for me to administer first aid, my kit being river water and a small face towel with a length of bandage, I noticed the striking resemblance between the two soldiers; they were father and son. The older man had been hit in the hip and by the way his trousers was held to his waist by a rope which I believed served as a belt, I was sure the man had lost so much blood.

The position and distance his son carried him contribution no doubt. As the wounded man was laid down, his child pleaded with me.

“Biko, nyere nna m aka, ekwela ga onwu o biko,” he pleaded, I saw the pain and the fear with which he said those words. He was ready to do anything to ensure his father did not give up. I nodded as I started loosing the knot on the rope, the man cried out in pains as my hands moved to check out the exact position of the wound. The son disconnected the bayonet from the nozzle of his rifle quickly and cut the rope, helping me to pull his father’s blood soaked trousers down.

“Papa, hang on, don’t die, hang on,” he consoled his father as he undid the trousers; it was such a pitiful sight that it brought tears to my eyes. It was such a horrible situation to watch your own father dying before your very eyes and you could not do anything.

“As I soaked the towel inside the iron bucket I had with to clean the area surrounding the wound, the man cried out,

“Ahh, Chineke mu, Alaoji bia kwa nu, Chineke bia kwa o!”

“Papa ndo! Ndo! Sorry! Jisi ike,” his son consoled.

“Mmiri o, biko nun ye mu mmiri!” he requested.

“He needs water,” The young man said to me as if I was deaf.

I shook my head to indicate the request cannot be granted.

“Please, give me water, Jesus, I am dying, I need a drink!” the father yelled, his son still looked at me questionly.

“Give him water to drink please, he is my father!” he pleaded as tears rolled down his young eyes.

“No, it would kill him,” I told him.

“Chineke umu Africa, biko, mmiri! I need water, my mouth is dry,” the man groaned, I could see his loss of blood was sapping whatever energy he had left.

“Papa please don’t die, please hold on,” his son cried, “Nurse! Help me, don’t let my father die, please help me.” He asked holding his dying father’s head on his laps. I cleaned the surface of the wound and the man flinched and shouted with a very familiar painful shrill  that I had become accustomed to inside the hospital’s butcher room,

“Hmm, chukwu Ala oji nwa oduma anaa! Blood trailed out slowly from the wound, whoever fired the shot aimed to kill him instantly but instead his death was occurring slowly. I went on to bandage his waist to stop the bleeding.

“Where is the doctor?” the kid soldier asked with tearful pleading eyes, I pointed towards the new doctor who was standing by the bed of another patient.

“Doctor, Doctor!” the boy called out, leaping up and moving towards him, I cried more for his pain; he was willing to keep his father alive. I looked back at the dying man, his eyes were half closed and some saliva were running down his mouth, his mouth squeezed into a smile as he looked at me.

“So this is how a man goes,” he said a little audibly, I held his hand, not really knowing what to say or do at that very moment. I knew the man would be gone in a matter of minutes, I had seen cases like his in my short stay at the hospital. I looked up on time to see the boy and the doctor coming down to us. The doctor crossed over to where we were and shifted the two weapons lying carelessly by the side.

“Nurse, what do we have here?” the doctor asked as he bent down to have a closer look.

“The patient was brought in not long ago with a bullet wound to the pelvis,” I narrated, “Must have lost so much blood and requested for water. I tried to stop the bleeding.” I finished the doctor lifted the bandaged to study the wound closely.

“The entry wound is a real bad case,” he commented, “did you check if there’s any exit?” he asked.

“No, I replied.

“That means the lead is still lodged in there, too bad,” he said as he checked the man’s eyes with his torch.

“This one will need someone to till the ground,” the doctor finished as he stood up; it was our code indicating a patient that may die soon and be buried.

“I’ll go get some pain killers across,” the doctor announced getting up and touching the boy briefly on the shoulders, “Be strong and be man.” I knew the doctor would not be back, the talk was just a way of buying time for the expected to happen.

“Ikenna,” the dying man called out weakly.

“Papa, I am here,” his son replied.

“Icheghim  na nga agbake na nka,” he started.

“Papa, hold on the doctor is coming,” the boy replied into his father’s ears.

“Ikenna, listen,” the weak voice demanded, “I am leaving and want you to know I died a very proud man. I am proud of you, you are a brave son.”

“Papa, you will not die, the doctor will soon be here. He went to get drugs for you,” his optimistic son continued.

“Take care of your mother and sisters, don’t let them down and don’t let those bastards hurt you,” his dying father kept uttering, his eyes were closing and the strength in his voice was trailing with each word.

“Papa, hang on, Papa, Doctor!” the boy shouted, “Nurse! Call the doctor, my father is dying,” As he shouted, his father’s weak head kept shaking on his laps with his body’s movement.

The only thing I could do was to watch the tragedy happen; if I had had  power to give life, I would have been more than generous for the son’s sake. But being equally mortal, I cried at the demise of yet another casualty. The poor boy started crying and calling his father continuously, it was useless, the man was dead. I watched with tears as the boy hugged the torso of his dead father whose nakedness was still exposed with only the bandage rolled round his waist covering his manhood partially.

The boy was still bent in agony when Dr. Nwosu appeared from the butcher room wearing his same bloodstained gown. He watched the scenario for sometime and then walked up to them and collected the two rifles lying on the floor.

“Elias, keep these inside my office,” he instructed, “he will certainly come back for it.” Both of them left the scene as if nothing happened. I stood by the side and grieved with the boy, his sobs continued for sometime until he could cry no more. He got up and looked about with reddened eyes which fell on me and asked, “Where will I bury my father?” I did not know where the dead were laid; it was the job of Elias and Orjiakor or any solider Dr. Nwosu assigned the duty. I went and enquired from Elias and he led us that night to the place used as burial ground for the fallen heroes.

That night the kid soldier called Ikenna carried the corpse of his father to his final resting place, I held the lantern as Elias dug the grave. Elias helped the boy put down his father’s remains down the grave, the body was completely stripped of its clothes as they were in short supply and was needed by somebody else.

I said the prayer for the soul of the departed man and heard the boy’s tearful “Amen.” Elias reminded him to perform the burial rite of dust to dust and he grabbed some earth heaped by the side of the grave and stared for some minutes at his dead father before he courageously said, “Ashes to ashes, Dust to dust. Papa Na gboo.”

After that Elias threw in earth and I did the same. I held the lamp as both Elias and the boy covered the grave and marched on the grave. We all walked back to the hospital together silently, when we got to the entrance, the boy asked Elias, “Where is my gun?”

“The doctor took it to his office,” Elias informed him. I watched as he went in there and came out with it; the expression on his face was obvious, he was no longer a boy, he was a soldier, a solider that was out for revenge.

Robot  # 1 | 30.08.2008 00:39

Adaptation from the yet-to-be published novel, A SEASON OF THE SUN by Ahaoma Kanu ...Read the full article.

Agidimolaja  # 2 | 30.08.2008 04:50

War no good o! You better agree so,folks. We must all see to it that another war is avoided. War is not picnic,it is bitter conflict.War is blodletting exercise.War is killing and maiming.To hell with war! Possibly if modern day advocates of another Biafra could read stories like yours,they may cease to court troubles and stop their provocative war cries. I'm as well sure that no Igboman in his right mind would want to go on such mission impossible because there is not on the ground such situation like that of 1966 that may provoke the idea of another Biafra. Your story was so heart touching and I'm sure it is the whole truth as you presented it.It is almost fourty years now,yet the memory is still fresh in your head. Nevertheless we on the other side of the conflict too had our own moments of sorrows and angers.Although exBiafrans are always too quick to report what was done to them, they failed however, to report what they too did to us.They talked of our hostilities towards them but would not mention their grave hostilities towards us. The war was not a walk-over hence it lasted for thirty months.It was conflict and in some instances,bitter conflict and in conflicts there would be casualties.Biafrans had casualties so also the federal forces. Inside Abala market,Federal forces, including my Platoon Sgt. Ambrose,a Tiv man were blown into shreds by "ogbunigwe" . So also was Kasali,my homeboy and good friend. After we retook Abala market,we found the bodies of some soldiers that were earlier on captured including another close comrade,Sunday,a Mid-Westerner{now Edo}.Their heads and limbs were all gone. Do we have reasons to be angry and vengeful? You be the Judge! One day,I was at our 12 Brigade HQ in Azumini, on a mission, when news came to me of how 34th Battalion just suffered shelling attacks.Among the casualties was another close friend of mine Leke from Ibarapa area. I quickly rushed down to the Brigade's MRS acoss the road and to its theatre where he was placed. He struggled to get up when I entered the room but his injury would not let him do so.He reached out to his pocket and brought out his blood-stained wallet. As blood was still streaming out of his mouth,he called out my name and gave me his wallet. As I stretched out my hand to grab it,he said,"If God let you get out of this war alive,give it to my father.Tell him,I was gone and to take heart".Those were all that fate allowed him to say before he breathed his last.He died in my presence.His wound was too bad. His orderly quickly gave him a clean salute and hurried out of the place as his eyes were welling up with tears. The attending doctor stared at me as if he was expecting me to say or do something.I was grieved to the heart as I stood so speechless beside this fallen combatant but I must not, as professional soldier display emotions, especially at a time like this. I put my emotions into check as the doctor covered him up and we walked out quietly. I stayed behind until all medical rituals were performed and the military paperworks were hurriedly put together. I was called to where he was laid among other fallen comrades.There were seven of them awaiting burial.Several graves were already dug down and he was buried with full military honour some distance away from mystical Azumini River. I briefly mourned his departure and then departed to my location in Abala where the struggle continued with the vow to do unto Biafra what Biafra did to our troops and my friends. I was only being human, just like the boy whose dad was killed. After the war,precisely in March 1970 I fufilled his last wish.I journeyed to his village and broke the sad news to his family through the King to whom I went first and gave a full account of what happened. You talking of sadness,sorrow,anguish among Biafrans?Let it be known to you this day that on Federal side of the war too,there were similar pains angers,sorrows and sadness. This is only one of many sad events that occured in my presence during the war.Hopefully we shall never fight another war. Please tell the Niger Delta militants to stop their war cries because when that war arrived,it shall bring along with it unpleasant cosequences. War no good o!

VOR  # 3 | 30.08.2008 09:20

Biko, nyere nna m aka, ekwela ga onwu o biko,” he pleaded, I saw the pain and the fear with which he said those words ...he said,"If God let you get out of this war alive,give it to my father.Tell him,I was gone and to take heart These stories are indeed heartbreaking. War is not a good thing and should be avoided. A couple of days ago another villager recalled was she witnessed during the war, all shocking "why did this have to happen" stories. I pray we never ever have to go through such again in Nigeria. All good men and women should join hands to ensure we save ourselves and children from such, lets jaw jaw not war war o! People say, eni kan lo'mo, eni kan lo'ye (it is he/she that is affected that appreciates the impact) Ahaoma, I can't wait for the book to be launched, let me know so Agu Nwanyi can support o. Really, this was beautifully captured. Well done!

Olamide  # 4 | 31.08.2008 07:33

War is not only bad because of the loss of lives, properties, dignities and savings, it also demeans the people and set you back decades. I remember while working in Sierra Leone with an American organization immediately after the war that I employed this gentleman who seemed to be very articulate and too intelligent to be an ordinary Security Guard. I invited him into my office one day and interviewed him to discover that he had obtained an M.Sc. in Chemistry and Lab Technology from University of Louisiana, USA. He was the Chief Chemist at the Rutile Mining Company in Moyamba District, Sierra Leone and living like royalty until one day, the RUF rebels attacked the mine and they had to flee. He fled with only a pair of tennis shorts because he was playing tennis in the evening after work when the attack occured. From being a Senior Management staff with a good job, prospect for better future, a nice car and two houses that earned him rent every month, he became a refugee, penniless and reduced to depending on the mercy of others to survive with his family. There were nojobs, so he applied for the position of Security Guard to be able to earn money to take care of his family. That is what war does to people. I also witnessed the miseries of war in both Liberia and Sierra Leone while serving with Ecomog and will not like to see something like that again anywhere.

Jucihart  # 5 | 31.08.2008 13:41

I remember vividly a line mark on my father's back neck and when we asked him wat that mark was, he said it was a bullet that narrowly missed him during the Biafran-Nigerian war. What that means is that I would not have been in existence if something had gone wrong. I can only but imagine what people went through or are feeling about their loved ones lost during that horrible season. The pain sure does remain. Time they say will heal, but I ask, does it heal completely? The scar remains and so the healing is incomplete. My father has never supported any kind of war and so when the MASSOB issue was raging then, what he simple told us was that He who had seen war once will not want a second attempt. That's a wonderful piece guy, and I cant wait to see it in print. Well visualised and presented.

Obugi  # 6 | 31.08.2008 14:16

Agidi, War no good o! You better agree so,folks. I don't agree. What if war will ensure a free and prosperous future for (y)our future generations? There are many prosperous, happy countries that were forged in war. We must all see to it that another war is avoided. War is not picnic,it is bitter conflict.War is blodletting exercise. War is killing and maiming.To hell with war! Maybe, maybe. Possibly if modern day advocates of another Biafra could read stories like yours,they may cease to court troubles and stop their provocative war cries. I'm as well sure that no Igboman in his right mind would want to go on such mission impossible because there is not on the ground such situation like that of 1966 that may provoke the idea of another Biafra. The conditions that provoked Biafra in 1966 are still around. Its hyprocrisy to cry for peace and then tolerate conditions that provoke war. War results from a natural human instinct to either impose injustice or redress it. Which one were you doing as a Federal soldier? You talking of sadness,sorrow,anguish among Biafrans?Let it be known to you this day that on Federal side of the war too,there were similar pains angers,sorrows and sadness. That goes without saying. The question is, what cause were you fighting for? The simple unvarnished answer is that Federal Nigerian soldiers were fighting to deny Biafrians, or at least the Igbo, their right to self determination. Why would a well meaning person enlist to fight such a war, or agree to carry out orders to prosecute it? There is such a thing as conscientious objection to war. People like Wole Soyinka went to prison protesting Nigerias pursuit of that war. This is only one of many sad events that occured in my presence during the war.Hopefully we shall never fight another war. Please tell the Niger Delta militants to stop their war cries because when that war arrived,it shall bring along with it unpleasant cosequences. If ever the peoples of the Niger Delta declare independence, I would not sign up to fight against them, nor would I carry out any govt order to do so. I would rather die than participate in any effort to deny freedom to fellow African Negroes. What about you? Be sure to educate your children on the above points I've raised. If we all thought through the real causes of the last war and lesson that should be learned, then we can realistically avoid another one. That you're even discussing the injustices in the Niger Delta today is because of the low-level war percolating there. Without it, Nigeria's N-i-g-g-e-r-s would just continue exploiting their fellow Africans in peace. Unacceptable. War no good o! Depends on what you're fighting for - and whether there are any viable alternatives to achieving acceptable ends. ! Get Yours ! Obugi.

Agidimolaja  # 7 | 01.09.2008 01:32

Obugi, You have the right to disagree with me when I submitted that war is no good.This is probably due to the fact that you did not see war or experienced it. Maybe if you were in one,you would have a rude awakening whenever the word "war" is mentioned. Jocihart's dad said it all, that whoever have seen war one time shall not attempt to see it again.You do not know what war is all about. Certain nations may have gone to war before they fully emerged as nations, yet on most cases they did not want to go to war and if the participants are alive today ,they too will tell you of horrors of war. Even in prosperous USA,you need to see the effect of war in the lives of several Vietnam vets.None of them will tell you he prays to be in another combat. Even the much elderly Pearl Harbour survivors would tell you about horrors of that morning with tears streaming out of their eyes. War is no good.This is based upon my personal experinces between 1967 and 1970. Ask me if I would like to again see any of my fallen comrades blown into pieces.Ask me if I would like to see the bodies of fallen comrades being eating up by vultures before we had the opportunity to collect them for burials.Ask me if I would like to remain on death's waiting list daily again. I joined the Army in March of 1967 just three months after graduating from high school.There was no war then and no one even imagined that war would eventually be fought. After the pogrom,Yorubas percieved that the next Northern target would be the West. There was fear in Yoruba Kingom that what was done to Easterners in the North would possibly be done to Westerners in their homeland. As at that time Yorubas had not enough men in military service with which to resist such occurence. People were then encouraged to joined the army so as to be able to defend the West in case we are attacked from within by Northern soldiers that are stationed there and in Lagos. Several Yorubas answered the call and I was one of them. Instead of proceeding to HSC at Molusi College,Ijebu-Igbo,I joined the army. I joined the army not to fight Igbos and like I said,as at the time I joined,no one was expecting any war.The rest is history. Yes,you are right about it,Wole Shoyinka did his best at supporting the cause of Igbos and he spent some years in jail for doing so. Col.Adekunle Fajuyi also volunteered to go along with Gen.Ironsi when the latter was arrested.Col.Fajuyi, {also a Yorubaman}, was murdered along with Ironsi. Today,are Igbos grateful to those men for their uncommon courage? Are Igbos today not still railing curses and abuses upon all Yorubas and calling us all kinds of names while blaming us for their lost of the war,even including those Yorubas that paid great prices for Igbos' cause. Obugi,since you will neither join up with Niger Delta to prosecute a war nor denounce them if they started one;I wish you would tell them ahead of time not to venture into war because, war no good o! When the time comes,who no know,he go know and who no sabi, he go sabi! Trust me. Lastly, allow me to disagree with you on your assertion that the situations that led to the civil war are still around now. I don't know about such situations. What actually developed into the idea of Biafra was the pogrom when over50,000 Easterners were murdered in the North.Today,I never hear of such pogrom.So what are you and the likes of Biafra advocates crowing about?Those who are shouting at the top of their voices concerning what they called"Igbo marginalization" are very unsincere because, Igbos,as far as Nigeria is concerned are not marginalized nor cut off from the mainstream. Apart from the office of President,where else can you not find Igbos? And if an Igboman wanted to become the President,let him go out and win a Presidential election.Are Yorubas again responsible for Igbos Presidential failures?

ikechukwu  # 8 | 01.09.2008 08:04

The problem in Nigeria is not war or the fact that our people want war. The problem is basically leadership. I have found out that these days an Igbo ‘so called’ leader is not interested in whatever happens to his Igbo people in as much as being interested would not amount to a substantial improvement of his bank accounts. The Hausa leader has no business in whatever happens to his Hausa folks as regards poverty alleviation, he only uses northern agitation because it offers him a platform to steal for himself, his family and close cronies. That is the meaning of Hausa domination as far as he is concerned. In Niger delta, their leaders (who are the present day militants) are only interested in ‘resource control agitations’ anytime they realize that their ‘oil and financial allocations’ have been tampered with. They don’t give a damn about whatever poverty is ravaging their people. However these are the people that would probably benefit from any war because it would just be their war. However Nigerians have to wake up to the fact that they must demand for a free and fair election marshaled out by a thoroughly independent INEC (devoid of any executive control) same goes for the judiciary. This is suppose to be a starting point that would bring out the overall interest in the polity for proper galvanization of peoples goodwill on the Nigerian project. I believe this task would produce so many unintended nice reactions

okenikpoto  # 9 | 01.09.2008 19:37

Thanks Agu Nwanyi. I am still working on the final chapters and even my agent in New York can't wait. Chill, hope to give a graphic descriptiuon of the war I missed by seven years. My uncle, Capt Ogbonnaya Oji was involved in the Nzeogwu coup and he later fought on the Biafran side as a Colonel. He refuses and never talks about the war though almost all the memoirs about the war mentions his name, he is still alive and well and when I approached him to share his experiences during the war, he just keeps saying may we never see another war. I am not putting down a story becuase I want to show more of the suffering in the Biafran side, I am just trying to make Nigeria revisit and understand themselves in this aspect of our history we keep pretending never happened. I dont see myself as Igbo or Yoruba or Hause but I see my fellow Nigerian as my brother. But then, like Awolowo told Zik, we need to understand our differences in order for it not to happen again. But may we never see any war again in 9ja. Long live the Federal Republic of Nigeria. VOR, na you go be the first wey I go send a copy, trust me now....with palmie ooo

VOR  # 10 | 01.09.2008 20:09

VOR, na you go be the first wey I go send a copy, trust me now....with palmie ooo Dalu! I yam waiting