30 Jul 2008 |
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I believe many of us must have been touched by the article written by Chukwudi Nwokoye, a veteran of United State Marine published in the Nigeriavillagesquare.com and the Daily Champion of the 3rd and 4th of April,2008 titled: “Why We Serve in the United States Military” Here is why we served in the Nigerian Army.
Precisely in the year 1994, I enlisted into the Nigerian Army as a recruit in training at the Depot Nigeria Army after rounding up my Diploma Programme at the Institute of Management and Technology, Enugu. The recruitment exercise took place at Regina Caeli Recruitment Office of the Nigerian Army, Awka, Anambra State. Very promising young boys and girls featured in the exercise. Naturally I was not tall - just 1.68 cm - so I considered myself lucky to pass the recruitment exercise. The first remarkable lesson I learnt was that one of my colleagues from the food producing area of Anambra State had to part with his father’s old farming machete and a few bottles of gin and give these to the Warrant Officer to enable him scale through. We were all relieved after the hectic exercise that saw us successfully scaling through. On the way to Zaria, I was aghast to notice that we had to refuel our lorry without paying for the fuel; the recruitment officer ordered the petrol attendant to fuel our vehicle at gun point, an action that is detestable to would-be security agents of the Nigerian Federation. Our journey to Zaria was interesting as we were in high spirits. The final exercise took place before the commencement of the training proper. While the final exercise had started, to my chagrin, some personnel claimed to be from different tribes. Some Igbos denied being Igbo so as to secure a space; some Idomas, Tivs, Ijaws and Hausas became Igbos and almost usurped the spaces meant for south eastern states while the people selected from the states was sent back home. A particular local government, Wase Local Government to be precise, had spaces for three states reserved for them because they had a senior officer who died between 1994 and 1995 in an air mishap. These particular chosen and anointed recruits - also known as "admit the bearer" - were brought last and were trained for just three months with a promise that their main units would finish up their training. While we were on training, the grapevine had it that some of our officers and soldiers were sadistic. I never knew until one day a particular officer showed this to us. Umoru and I had been close during our recruitment training, he informed me of what they called the ‘magajia’ list, Chief of Army of List, Hamza Al Mustapha’s List and Danjuma’s girlfriend list. These are the owners of Nigeria Army who decide who is to be commissioned and recruited.
The owners of the Army, the so called Nigerian Army. It was in 1994 and the incident still remains as fresh as the morning dew in my subtle memory, these events of yesterdays. Having passed the screening exercise and embarked on our rigorous military training that would surely drain out the civilian in us as commonly stressed by the senior non commissioned officers of our beloved country, it was now the time for preliminary guard duty period. Umoru and I with three other recruits were detailed to go on guard at a certain major’s residence. On our arrival, we reported to the major in question. He indeed briefed us and deployed us at strategic points in his house. As soon as we got settled in our various posts, the major left in company of a certain lieutenant to an unknown destination in his 230 Mercedes Benz. The excruciating pains of previous days' flogging and the ear piercing noise of mosquitoes kept us company till 1400hrs, soon our baby faced major arrived dead drunk with a young girl of about fifteen years; both were reeking of alcohol. The major quickly ordered us recruits to file out; we instantly filed out from our sleep in front of him and his tender damsel. Probably to boost his ego and rank, he started asking us questions one after another, which we dutifully and fearfully answered. After appearing displeased with our response, he pointed to Umoru, my poor fellow recruit, and asked him “Have you had sex before”? Umoru responded in affirmative, then the major thundered “so if I commot, you go go sleep with my babe”? By then I was tense and afraid of what this soap opera will turn into. Standing at attention, the major ordered his companion, the young lieutenant to give Umoru a good beating, instantly the lieutenant descended on poor Umoru and horse whipped him black and blue, thereafter, the major callously ordered Umoru to climb the window protector in his house and demonstrate how he normally have sex. Umoru simply obeyed the last order, and while on the iron protector, the horse whip kept descending on his bare back, and he screamed his life off. The major was not done yet - later on, he took Umoru to a water tap where he opened the tap so that it was dripping constantly on poor Umoru's shaved head until Umoru finally slumped. He was rushed to the Depot Medical Center, upon arriving the major lied to the attendant that Umoru had had an accident. While the stone age sadism took place, the major’s young maiden was enjoying the spectacle, laughing with great satisfaction. Throughout that night I felt disgusted with the caliber of our officers. Is that our professionalism, is that our patriotism? I wish I hadn't enlisted in the first instance. I did not see my poor friend Umoru any longer after the incidence. I also had a very humiliating experience. One day while we were still training, I was made to stand to attention. The then next thing I heard was: “OK, now tell us how your people made ‘ogbunigwe’ (Biafran-made bomb)”. When I told them that I did not know; I was taunted, made jest of, harassed and maligned. I was made to do "nwawo jump"-to jump like a frog. Many of us had to hide our academic qualifications. If you had anything above First School Leaving Certificate, you had to hide it, and not declare it; otherwise, you would be marked out for molestation. You would be looked at as a potential trouble maker...."all this sabi sabi people....." This is our Nigerian Army! Passing out, after the six months training; we were all deployed to our various units in the Army. My colleagues and I found our way to Zuru in present Kebbi State. One outstanding lesson I learnt, was that I saw Nigeria and its multifaceted problems - tribalism, sadism, greed, covetousness, ruthlessness and neo-colonialism of Nigeria by those that had found their way to the corridors of power. They made outstanding and stupendous wealth from our oil; they shared oil prospecting licenses, grabbed lands to themselves and ganged up to trample to death whoever opposed them, claiming to love Nigeria more than the foot soldiers and trench men. Nigeria our Nigeria! Zuru is one of the villages that has produced the highest number of generals; the town that is always noted for its ‘gulumo’ tradition - where brothers become generals at same time. Thank God one of them has been freed from “the dungeon of Obasanjo”. Thanks to the Nigerian judiciary - we are expecting more of such ground breaking judgments. Following the deployment of us to our various companies, the knowledge of the Berebe, the Nyamiris, the Langtang and what ever name you might call it, I saw officers and soldiers relating on tribal grounds. In as much as our primary duties as soldiers were guards, sentry and other support services, it was embellished with the picking and gathering of groundnuts for the Commanding Officer and sometimes the junior officers. Many of us were converted to house boys, gardeners, babysitters, that is how some “soldiered” and protected the country. I recalled that on a particular occasion a particular soldier was instructed to fetch water for a particular captain who earlier on had instructed all soldiers on parade to stop calling me Charles. The reason, his name was Charles too, though I told him, he could as well instruct Prince Charles of Wales to refrain from being called Charles. To return to the story, in order to fill the drum fast, Ayeni (the soldier) took along his girlfriend to assist in drawing the water. As soon as they emerged at the residence of the officer with the buckets of water, the officer’s wife took the buckets of water they brought and drenched both of them. The officer then ordered the poor girl out, instructing the soldier to start doubling. The officer's wife then also became the soldier’s officer. Nigeria my Nigeria. The year 1996 approached fast - the Liberian conflict was going on. My unit was full of young soldiers between the ages eighteen and thirty-five who longed to be a part of the exercise. I recalled while in school in 1994 the disowning of Colonel Dangiwar Umar Abubakar as never having been in the Army; the nullification of the first clean, free and fairest democratic election ever held in Nigeria by the then Head and Tail of State, President Ibrahim Babangida; the execution of Tim Onwuatuegwu; the escape of Brigadier General Hillary Njoku, the formation of Organization of African Unity; the Monrovian block role. These random thoughts of the multiple issues ran through my mind. I dreamt of the day I would play the role Moshe Dayan played in Israel to my fatherland Nigeria; but I discovered the road to be full of internal squabbles and infighting instead of patriotic issues. I was given a clean bill to be part of the contingent after escaping the sledge hammer of the Medical Officer who had stated that my blood pressure was on the high side - a decoy to extort money from me. Thank God the Commanding Officer arrived early enough to save me from that chaos. The Commanding Officer thundered, “if I don’t go to war with such a young man, do you want me to go with old men? Put his name on the list and let him go and die there”. Indeed, I didn’t die for Nigeria, rather I lived and still living for my country. Thank God who made crooked things straight. The role of Nigeria in bringing peace to West Africa was very commendable. Our being part of this great task started in 1996, we sailed to Liberia abode Nigeria Naval Ship NNS Hambe. The journey was very smooth, a journey that would lead us into playing with sharp tools. It took us seven days to arrive in the Liberia Freeport in Monrovia. As soon as we docked, we were still feeling dizzy by the turbulence of the sea travel. There were already several ships in the dock; and I noticed scuffles taking place overboard. Lots of people were struggling to go on board, probably to make a dash for safety via the ship. Was I hearing aright? Some one appeared to be drowned - a white man had pushed a boy of sixteen off board, and all searching to rescue him proved abortive. A soul had been lost in seconds – despair was written on all faces. A day after our arrival in Monrovia, we were all deployed at the Robert International Airport, the Harbel and Owens Grove general area, to be precise. I was deployed to the Company Headquarters. On a certain day we were deployed on a road block along Harbel – Fire Stone- Robert International Airport Road. This airport was used to serve American interests during WW II and was said to have the longest tarmac in West Africa. When we mounted the road block, for about four days we agreed that we were not going to collect money from the road users since we were there to keep the peace. We didn’t know that we were there primarily for such duties - frivolous as they were. After four days, it was discovered that we were not sending any return via remote monitoring. We were hurriedly deployed to more remote areas. I was dispatched with alacrity to Owens Grove. I heard no exchange of gun shots from any quarters, though some did. Our company maintained cordons and performed searches, disarming militant elements and resolving conflicts among locals. Many of the officers dabbled into the gold business, stealing latex from the Firestone plantation, among other shady deals. Those of us who could not dabble into such got settled with our companions, the women of Liberia. There I found my heart throb - a story for another day. The journey to Grand Bassa county was a rewarding one, we served there as Iron Gate for about six months. I really enjoyed my days at Owens Grove as we operated strictly within our military responsibility with decorum during part of 1997. While going through fire and water, we went on a certain day to the Firestone basketball court purposely to clear it, since it had been overgrown with weeds. After that we went to play football with the locals, it was there that news filtered through my shortwave radio in my pouch that “I, Corporal Tanba Gborie on behalf of the Revolutionary Forces of Sierra Leone have taken over Government of Sierra Leone”. The voice spoke in Krio and called on all their brothers in the bush to come out and join them in reclaiming Sierra Leone from plunderers, thieves and entitlements beneficiaries. (Editor: This refers to the coup by Johnny Paul Koroma) I was flummoxed and flabbergasted. The news made me make a dash to an officer, a major standing very close to me. When I informed him of the development, he retorted, “it's people like you that executes such actions, soon some of you will start to act same way, but before then we will get you crushed”. May be the “we”, meant officers of his type. The match of the day ended and gradually the news spread all over the world. Fear gripped the entire Mano River Union countries: Liberia, Guinea and Sierra Leone. Back in our locations, we were individually contemplating what would come out of these actions in Sierra Leone. Barely forty-eight hours after the toppling of Dr. Ahmed Tejan Kabbah’s government, ECOMOG (ECOWAS Monitoring Group) operations were extended in full scale to Sierra Leone. About two companies of soldiers picked specifically from the Nigerian battalion twenty-five were airborne to Sierra Leone. The task was to stabilize the government of Sierra Leone, a ploy to bring Ahmed Kabbah back to power from his hideout in Guinea Conakry where he was being hosted by Lansana Conte, the president. Leading the onslaught was the courageous Brigadier General Maxwell Khobe, the soldier’s soldier. Our mission in Liberia ended abruptly, the movement of “Ojebelu afor no nkwo” started. While we embarked on this mission of which I will not go into details, I discovered that the human spirit was very strong and powerful. Though ill equipped for the operation, the task was accomplished, and I am proud to have been part of that exercise. This was the first time a military operation spearheaded the installation back to power of a sacked democratic Government. And the reason? Probably to set a record and to discourage ambitious other ranks from attempting such ill thought out plans. In Sierra Leone , blood flowed; I recall the bombardment of Queen Elizabeth the Water Quay, the Makeni Town Hall, Tekor Barracks, Magburuaka Airstrip, Cockhill – the Army Headquarters and bizarre strafing along Sankos garage. It took ECOMOG not more than four months to bring Dr. Ahmed Tejan Kabbah back. First he sneaked in, one evening on a Nigeria Airforce 12 passenger airplane. Right in my presence, the late General Abacha, at the time Nigeria Head of State, gave late General Khobe orders to march to Freetown via satellite telephone, while Kabbah stood in his Mandingo dress, helpless before the General. Power indeed is powerful, that’s why some want to have it as their birth right.Who has the Army, has the power. In your country, who has the Army are the people who have robbed the country through the army, and are using the army to protect their loot. The operation in Sierra Leone was smooth, the Lungi Garrison collapsed, as did the government led by Major Johny Paul Koroma. Tekor Barracks collapsed, Benguma Training Base was deserted, the Army Headquarters was ransacked. The officers and the rank and file of the Sierra Leone Army crumbled. There was disarray and total confusion, in fact there was a total macabre dance in that beloved country. The dust started settling down after President Kabbah was officially given a resounding welcome at Lungi International Airport. On that faithful day, the then OAU Secretary General, Ahmed Salim Ahmed was in attendance; the Malian President Alpha Omar Konare, Guinea's Lansana Conte, late Ibrahim Mainasara of Niger in his last visit before his sudden execution by one of his generals, the Deputy President of Liberia, the goggled Nigerian President, General Abacha, who arrived last. It marked the day of homecoming for Sierra Leone. Kabbah took over and had his sway from signal hill. Our hands were full, but I remembered something. My wife was still in Liberia behind the lines, precisely at Iron Gate in Grand Bassa country. The thought of her made me to obtain a one week pass that enables me to send her to Nigeria after sorting out with the family according to Bassa Congo traditions. The visit to Liberia from Sierra Leone , though legal, earned me three hours detention at ECOMOG Headquarters. Thanks to the prompt response of the ECOMOG authorities in Freetown, I was given a flash signal for my prompt release. Thank God, I flew back to Sierra Leone. Upon arrival, I noted that my company was being led by one of the best and courageous middle rank officers, precisely a Gulumo - Bendenkere from Zuru. Though he was a Moslem, a Hausa man, a northerner, we lived and fought like true Nigerians – no tribal - no religious – no class – or rank classification. Our primary aim and tasks were to secure our area of responsibility, protect the locals and the key post, Bumbuna Hydro Electric Project. Not a pin was lost until our departure from the Bumbuna – Torkolili - Magburaka general area. I must state here that the military exposed us to major Nigerian problems, basically tribalism, greed, lack of maintenance culture, neo-colonialism, unproductiveness and mediocre leadership. Tribalism was made manifest, when MKO Abiola died. The Yorubas in our company were mourning and some Fulani and Hausa Hybrid soldiers fired shots in the air. When General Abacha died, the Yorubas jubilated and fired shots in the air. This event took place within the Army of Nigeria in foreign lands - what a mess of our patriotism. The Igbos and other minorities were all stupefied. Such a situation was what made militant General Mosquitoe exploit to overrun Lunsar and Makeni General areas with his band of plunderers and looters. Unproductiveness led a certain battalion to arm their soldiers with shovels and pick axes and abandon their military duties in search of diamonds and gold. It was apocalyptic, the collapse of the said battalion with the onslaught of the ravaging militants across the border of Liberia. Mediocre leaders, placing the men under a commander that could not crawl, not to talk of walking, made mincemeat of some of our operations; a situation where soldiers were better their commanders was not only funny but nauseating. Some of us saw themselves as the colonial master since the Britons were gone. In the bid for us to succeed, blunders were committed, while the Sierra Leone Armed Forces (SLA) collapsed. Some of them who appeared loyal were hurriedly re-absorbed to cover some gaps at 24 ECOMOG Brigade, Makeni. As soon as the rebels attacked, they abandoned their positions and fled, leaving the Nigerian elements to the mercy of the butchering knives of the rebels, the story will be better told by the Commander of the then 24 ECOMOG Brigade Makeni–Tekor Barracks. To God be all the glory, gradually peace has started returning to Sierra Leone . At that time some of us had become neurotic, nostalgic and non- compliant. Our mother unit based at Bumbuna was given orders to move back to Nigeria after three years on a foreign mission. Naturally I was still at the wooden Congo house, at Signal Hill, our regular monthly hibernation base. There I got an instruction via life Guard Securities, a security outfit made up of Angolans, Zimbabweans and South Africans bearing British Passports hustling for diamonds in collaboration with Ukrainians. How they plundered our beloved Sierra Leone. I was asked to stand by, I did, and my other comrades in Task force Bumbuna were airborne in the next seventy two hours. We flew to Nigeria on the eve of rumors going around that Olusegun Obasanjo was dead. Indeed it was a grapevine going round the town by mischief-makers. Motherland, here we come! We landed at the local wing of the Lagos airport in the bosom of Charlie One thirty (C130) with only one serviceable engine through Sierra Leone to Nigeria. Our motorcade through Lagos was heart warming; we forgot our pains and difficulties. It was a Vietnam experience; we threw money to fellow citizens for waving at us, some in Leones, some in ‘liberty’ and some in naira. That day, I shed tears of joy, I celebrated my life out. Though many saw their graves in the bushes and forest of Liberia and Sierra Leone, I lost neither my limb nor my life! At the rear of the motorcade were the wives we had left with, along with the daughters and sons they had had for us. That’s part of the blessing, what can one do. As soon as we settled, we were given passes in batches. I was among the second batch. I recalled that when I got to my hometown, rumours had gone round that I had died; another rumour had it that one of my limbs had been amputated. While my bosom friend was sharing his joy about my survival, he remarked “rejoice, you are blessed, while others died, you came home with a wife and a son, rejoice my friend”. Everyday has its sun. After the expiration of our passes, we returned to the units to face the charges of marrying foreigners. The chief accused was my poor self. Before they could start their left right, left right, turn about, I packed my things and left them, leaving their Army for them. I am still waiting for our Army, the true Nigerian Army where I will feel as equal with the man from Katsina, Zuru, Dadinkwo, Shagari and Belewa, not an Army where it is anathema for a ‘nyamiri’ to hold the key of the Armoury or the flag house. If money launderers move freely, thieves are celebrated; if Alamieyeseigha, the 'Governor General of the Niger Delta' could move around shoulder high, why should I be afraid or intimidated merely for marrying a Liberian whose dowry I paid, whose marriage was blessed? We left about five local government's population which we owe procreation to in Liberia and Sierra Leone respectively. Men that fathered no child in Nigeria did in Sierra Leone and Liberia , just as Americans did in Vietnam , Korea , Japan , Afghanistan and Iraq. It is high time we start including them in our yearly economic planning and budget. There should be no pretence about it. Compatriots, that was how I enlisted: that's my entry and my exit! *Chizoba Chukwurah writes from Awka and can be reached at chukwurahcharlie@yahoo.com
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The zeal of patriotism moved many of us to search for a way of lifting up the Nigerian flag either within Nigeria or across the shores of this country.
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