A Biafran Patriot confesses his love of Biafra and how he got into the Biafran struggle, in spite of the dangers posed by Buhari and his killer squard

Biafrans: fanatical about their country

From Biafra Choice Writers

(We picked this experience of a Biafran Patriot from Facebook and felt we should share it, since it is the experience of many young Biafrans)

I have been a lover of Biafra right from the day I heard the story from my father, while I was still in primary school. I was so enthralled by the story, in spite of the evil visited on our people By Nigerian and still being visited on them more than 40 years after the war, that I started telling my friends that I was Biafran. But my dad had to warn me about the danger since we were living in Yoruba land (Ogun state).

I accepted not to continue in that line, but deep inside me I always say to myself “You are a Biafran” I stopped singing the national anthem in school. I would only recite the Ogun State anthem. But when I sit alone and think about what my dad had told me about the war, how my people were slaughtered in millions by wicked Nigerian rulers stamping across the country as nationalists today, I shed silent tears in my heart and kept hoping that one day a nation called Biafra will come into existence.

Despite my love for Biafra, I never bothered to research about her or research about what really happened during the war because I felt it was not necessary. I grew up in Yoruba land and there is one thing I had never observed, which was where two Igbo people are fighting. They may argue, but they never fight. It gave me a hope what peaceful place Biafra would be when restored.

When I first visited Anambra State, I saw a signpost announcing: “Welcome to Anambra State” I said to myself that a day would come when it would announce “Welcome to Biafra”. I was later informed that the day would come but that the signpost would not be in Onitsha because we would not leave our brothers and sister who were not in the Igbo-speaking enclave of South-east behind. I was told that when that day comes, that the signpost would rather be between Edo State and Igbo Akiri or Igbo Nkwo, known today as Igbanke. I used to think and believe that Biafra was only for Igbo speaking peoples, but I also got to learn that that was not the truth.

Then I got my shocker at Onitsha. I saw two Igbo people fighting. I turned and asked my companion “are these guys Igbo-speaking people?” he answered in the affirmative.

 I was so surprised and unhappy, the man saw the look on my face and asked me why I was not happy, I said to him because I have never two Igbo people fighting before. I told him that even in our school in Yorubaland, whenever a Yoruba student touches an Igbo student that we, the Igbos in the class, always came together to fight together. I later realized that one of the guys fighting was a MASSOB member.

I asked for the meaning of MASSOB, and was told that they were a group of people fighting to have Biafra under the name: Movement for the Actualization of the Sovereign State of Biafra (MASSOB). When I heard the word Biafra, I became very happy because it meant that one day we would indeed be free. I told myself that Biafra was enough to fight anybody, even a fellow Igbo.

However, something else later turned me against MASSOB, that was when I started observing that they molest people in the markets; going there to forcefully collect money from the same people they claim to be fighting for – enslaving people you are supposed to free from slavery all over again.

I developed a great hatred against them, and started feeling that Biafra may not actually become a reality as a result of the activities of Biafrans themselves. So I moved on with my life, mourning. Then one day in January 2014, I was on Facebook on my newsfeed when I came across the news” “Radio Biafra is now live in Aba, Onitsha, Enugu and Asaba on CHK 97. 6.” I did not take it serious. I was like “which ones are these” and I hissed.

But when I got home that evening, I could not get over the urge, and then I decided to tune in the radio station and to hear the nonsense they will be talking about. Then it hit me like thunder, when I heard the angry words of the broadcaster raining insults on me. Angered by his words I switched off my radio. But later I said to myself, why not hear him out? I tuned in again and listened attentively to him, I discovered that he was right to insult me, he was right to call me an animal. He taught me how to research about my history and I obeyed and start researching. I realized that what he was saying is the truth and I keyed into it. Towards the end of the programme, he announced: “My name is Nnamdi Kanu; Biafra is our religion and here on Radio Biafra is where we worship. Good evening. Today I am a hardcore Biafran like him, and I have no apologies to anyone for what I have become – a Biafran fanatic; life is nothing without Biafra.

(Anonymous)