Q. 5.803: “Your pant?” “No, all of them had
gone.”
Q. 5804: “So you had nothing on?” “Nothing,
only sleeveless singlet. So as the woman was crying, her husband asked me what
happened to me. I told him that I was burnt by some people and that I wanted
his help. He told me to go to the road until I got a vehicle to take me. I told
him that I had been doing this but none of them heeded. He said I should go
out. So I went out. When I got to the gate, I could not go further. I decided
to enter the bush there and stay and to die there even, but he came out and saw
me lying down near his gate. He ordered me to get out. I told him to help me.
He said no. Then I remembered that there was a mission hospital somewhere on
the road. I asked him whether the hospital was on the road. He said, yes. I asked
him how far it was from that place. He said two miles, that even the European
doctor working there might see me on the road and pick me. So I continued to
go. This made me somewhat hopeful and I started to go again, despite the burns
on my head. So I started to go on until I trekked about four miles but could
not get the hospital, which he said was about two miles. So I met a group of
Hausas on the road and asked them how far the hospital was from that place. One
of them told me that at the rate that I was walking, I would do the journey in
two days. But one man saw how disappointed I was and asked the woman who told
me that why she did not tell me that it was very close. I continued until in
the night when it started to rain. I got to a place where i saw a
light and thought it would be the place. There I saw one lorry which had
somersaulted and the two people who were there were Northerners. One of them
got up, looked at me and asked me whether I was ‘Inyamiri’. I said I was. He
asked me where this thing happened to me. I told him. He said he would take me
to their village head and that he would give me shelter, clothing and the
following day, he would get me transport to go to my town, (agreed. When we got
there, the village head came out with his light, looked at me all over and
said, ‘no’ that this one has got pealed
off and that he should take me to a place
where there are lorries belonging to Ibo people that there are Ibo people there
and that other persons who came with him watched me and went away. The
following day, I got up, poured water on my face, drank and continued to trek.
All that time, this my leg was bent because until about 12 o’clock I could not
go any longer I saw a bridge and went there to drink water. I saw that the hill
there was very steep, I managed to go down, drank and poured water on my face,
but the whole place was very dark and the place was fearful and I was afraid
that if I slept there, I would roll into the water. So I decided not to hasten
my death, rather let it come from God. I wrote my name there, in case I should
die there, so that anybody who would see it might know the name of the dead
man. But later, I struggled to go out, but could not. So I started to move up
with my bottom until I got to the road. I walked about a mile and was in sight
of another bridge. Suddenly I saw a land rover and two soldiers in it. They
went a few yards and stopped. They started to drive away some children and sent
them to go and call the doctor in charge of the hospital, they would come and kill
me. I decided to go and stay that if they kill me there, I would not mind, so
far as somebody would know that I had died. After driving the children, the
soldiers came and asked me what happened to me. I told them what happened. They
asked me what I wanted. I told them that I was going to the hospital. They told
me to enter the vehicle and that they would take me to Kaduna hospital. They
helped me to enter the vehicle, because I could not do so unaided. After a few
minutes, I saw a European. He came and stopped the vehicle and asked the
soldiers whether they saw one Ibo man whom he heard was coming to his hospital.
They said they were having him in their vehicle and that they were taking him
to Kaduna hospital. The man went back. So they took me to Kaduna hospital.! was
admitted in Wara6 on the 5th. I was burnt on the 30th September and on the 5th
of October I was taken to this hospital. The doctor and the nurses were kind to
me. One of them said even that I resembled somebody he know at Kano that I helped
him to get a licence and that he came on transfer from kano to Kaduna. They
were giving me treatment. I was there and one Red Cross woman - a European -
started to visit us in the evening. She was bringing milk and other things, it
was she that I told to write to my brother that I was at the Kaduna hospital.
She promised to take me to my home town. But on the day that she came to take
me, I was very weak because I was given purgative medicine and I was passing
out some blood. In addition somebody gave me injection in the morning and
another in the afternoon. I became very weak and could not get up from my bed.
So the woman came and saw that I could not travel and she took another Ibo man
from Enugu-Agidi. One Hausa patient there said “This man has no luck, the other
man is a lucky person. Surely this man will be killed here.” So in the
mid-night, the person that was lying next to my bed who was not talking to me
at all, came and removed the screen with which I was covered. As he was
removing it, I looked up and saw him and asked him what he was looking for,
whether it was what they said in the afternoon that he came to do. He said no,
that he was looking to know whether I had gone asleep. I said if I had gone
asleep, what would you do. And then I called the nurse and reported to him.”
Q. 5807: “Please don’t mind my interrupting
you. Did I hear you say that they gave you purgative in the morning and in the
afternoon” “No, they gave me purgative in the night and it started to work in
the afternoon.”
Q. 5808: “Was it on doctor’s prescription - No,
I was feeling some trouble in my belly. I could not ease myself, so I told them
that I would like purgative. Even the nurse in charge said no, that it would be
on doctor’s instructions. But I was not at ease at all. When in the night
another nurse came, I told him about it and he was that nurse who gave me the
purgative.”
Q. 5.809: “And from there then they took you to
Enugu?” “No”. When I told the nurse that this man came and opened my screen,
the nurse - a Yoruba girl - came and enquired what he wanted. He told her some
stories but the girl did not believe him. She ordered all of us to lie down on
the bed and that she would like nobody to get up again.
“When
it was morning the nurse in charge came. I reported to him and told him that I
would like to go because these people are trying to kill me. He said, all these
people are patients. None of them could raise a pin let alone raising a tool,
that I should not mind them, they would not kill me. I said no that I wanted to
go. He dismissed the matter and went away. After an hour, the Red Cross woman
came again with cloth, removed the hospital gown from me, put on me the cloth
she had. The nurse came and asked her what she was doing. She said that she
would take me away. The nurse said ‘all right, you are a lucky man.’ He gave me
three shillings that remained from the money which one former friend who was
transferred from Kano and who was sympathising with me on seeing my condition, gave
to the nurse for my care. It was
the balance of the 5 shillings - this man gave me. So this woman took me to a motor.
They took me to the Red Cross headquarters at
Kaduna. We were waiting
for the plane which did not
come on that day. So the lady took me home to
her husband's place. There I slept. She
was very kind to me.
Throughout that night she did not sleep.
She was always coming to ask
me how I was doing. In the morning, she prepared
ovaltine, bread and sandwiches for me and brought her children to come and
greet me. After, she said that she would go to Lagos and that she would arrange
for a Reverend Mother to look after me. So one Reverend Mother Gregory came and
took me to the Red Cross headquarters again, but the plane did not come. One
night they moved me to Refugee Centre where many Ibo people were. So we all
waited for the plane. The following morning I was taken to the hospital again
for injection.
Even
the doctor wanted to detain me but the person who took me to the hospital
refused. So they gave me injection and I went back. On the fourth day after
that, there was a plane in the morning. That Rev. Mother Gregory accompanied
me, gave me this cloth which I am wearing now, and took me to the plane that
was going to Enugu, handed me over to some Red Cross people and went back. I
arrived here on the 2nd October. I was admitted in Enugu Hospital.”
Q. 5810: “What about the telegram you were
talking about?” “It was sent by my wife.”
Q. 5811:
“Did your wife recognise you when
she saw you?” “Well, in fact, I was the person who called my name and it was
through the information I gave that they knew it was me. They did not recognise
me.
Q. 5812:
“This is one of the worst
experiences. Yes horrible experience. Thank you very much, indeed. Have you
started work?” “Yes, I was employed in the Sub- Treasury, Awka.”
Q. 5813: “All right, I wish you luck. “Thank you
very much, Sir.”
Marcel Okekenta’s story may sound like fiction but the
ineffaceable marks left by burns on his head and face will bear perpetual
testimony to its reality. His wife did not recognise him, but she had to
reconcile herself to the “new look” of her husband imposed by circumstances.
Mr. Okekenta is alive to tell this story. The same cannot be said of his 36
co-passengers excepting perhaps the one who claimed he was a Yoruba.
MR.
P. I. Okwawa the 125th witness was shot from the
back. The bullet grazed his occiput and he fell down and lost consciousness for
some time. Had that bullet gone a little deeper his brains would have been
blown up and that would be the end of it. On the other hand, had the wound been
a shade slighter than it was, he would not have lost consciousness immediately
and the soldiers would have had to empty more bullets into him to finish him
off like the other corpses heaped on him at the time he recovered
consciousness. Here is part of what Mr. Okwawa had to say with regard to the
severity of the attacks and injuries in Kano on 1st October, 1966:-
One soldier ordered us outside and asked me where I came from.
When I told him I was a Mid-Westerner he told me I was lying because he knew
where I came from. What I heard was ‘about turn, quick march’. I heard a shot
behind me and I fell down and passed out. How long I was there before I came
round I could not tell. But when I became conscious, a heap of dead men was on
me, some still breathing, but others stone dead. It took me some time to
extricate myself from the dead bodies heaped upon me. I crept over other dead
bodies as I tried to hide because soldiers were still shooting people down in
their hiding places at the airport. Presently, I found myself in a big kitchen,
the whole length and breadth of which was littered with dead bodies. Two Hausa
stewards in the kitchen refused me entry until I had paid £5, and within
seconds of my entry about five armed Northern soldiers entered the kitchen
shouting ‘are there any more of Okpara’s brothers left to be shot. I was again
saved because! lay among the dead and pretended to be dead also. When I could
no longer hold out, I got up and walked to the table where one of the stewards
was sitting. I shouted ‘please take me to the soldiers; I can no longer stand
this strain!
Somebody emerged from under the big table on hearing me. It was
Mr. Lekettey, a Ghanaian who apparently was hiding from the savage soldiers. We
decided to give ourselves up to the soldiers. He was my uncle and I his nephew.
This strategy worked wonderfully, and when the soldiers heard us out, they
shouted in unison, ‘Why have you been hiding? We don’t want to kill Ghanaians.
They are our friends. Yorubas, Efiks - all are our friends. We are after
Okpara’s brothers. We are going to finish them off. They took us upstairs where
we saw
more dead bodies, some of whom I recognised. Mr. Lekettey and myself gave them £10 for drink. They drank until
6.30 a.m. the following morning 2nd October. Those soldiers had some harsh
things to say about Okpara and Ibos. Okpara was their arch enemy who must be
destroyed. ‘Why did they kill our leaders while Okpara, Zik and Osadebey were
left out?’ Mbadiwe was the only Ibo man who would be spared on their march to
Eastern Region, because he was ‘our good man.’ ‘All other Igbos must be
destroyed’. At 7 a.m that same Sunday morning, they
asked Mr. Lekettey and myself to get ready because they were going to show us
how ‘we have dealt with Okpara’s brothers and sisters.’ They took us to the
Railway Station in an army landrover, and there we saw a sight which I would
never live to see again to my dying day. Over 700 men, women and children had
been mowed down. They had been killed while they were waiting for a train to
take them to our Region. A few of the children were still creeping over their
dead mothers, shouting ‘Mama I am hungry, I want to drink’, some were sucking
at their dead mothers breasts. I left them to suck on!
It should be borne in mind that three days before this
unprecedented massacre, it was announced over the Kano Redifusion Network that
a passenger train would be leaving Kano for Eastern Region on 2nd of October,
and that all those wishing to travel should report on 1st of October, at the
Railway Station. Over 700 Ibos packed to the Railway Station.
This announcement was caused to be made by one Mr. T. George, the
Senior Train Officer, who incidentally is a native of Idoma. He was educated at
the Methodist College, Uzuakoli. He was a member of Nasara Club, and attended
all the meetings where it was decided to kill all the Ibos in Kano. When all
the Ibos had entered the Railway Station, he ordered that the gates should be
locked.
They drove us to the Loco running shed, it was the same sad story
of murder. All the Igbo workers who had reported for duty were killed. Next, we
were taken round to Sabon Gari. It was the same massacre of Igbos in hotels
where they had gone to relax because it was a public holiday. All the hotels
were literally filled up with dead bodies. In Sabon Gari everywhere we went we
saw dead and dying Igbos. No tinge of compuction ever touched the conscience of
these soldiers who on the night of October 1st joined their civilian Northern
brothers loot, pillage and kill our kith and kin. After we had seen enough,
they took us back to the airport where they continued killing those who were
suspected of being Ibos. A further £10 from us reassured us that we were not in
any immediate danger, although one of the soldiers had doubted my identity in
particular. He took me aside and asked in honesty if I was really a Ghanaian, I
assured him I was, but I gave him £5 more into the bargain. I asked him to take
me round to see more of Okpara’s dead brothers, because the sight intrigued me.
My motive for asking this was far from being disinterested. On the contrary, I
mainly wanted him to take me round to see if I could stumble upon the dead
bodies of my wife, my brother and my boy whom I had not seen since we were
separated. My fears were soon confirmed. I saw the dead bodies of my brother
and my boy near where I was supposedly killed. I mastered my emotional
reactions because he was watching me all the time. I went round the airport
where there were heaps of dead bodies, but I could not see that of my wife. I
saw other countless dead bodies I could well recognise. There were many men and
women who had come to the airport to see friends off, but all were killed
together with these friends. From the airport to Sabon Gari the road was
littered with dead bodies. They were picked out one by one along the road as
they were trying to escape from the airport, and shot in their cars, on
bicycles, scooters and on foot.
Meanwhile when these soldiers had ‘walked through’ the money we
had given to them, Mr. Lekettey and myself gave them further £20 to allow us
remain at the airport since all the houses in Sabon Gari had been ‘sacked’.
On the 4th of October, the soldiers informed us that they could no
longer guarantee our safety. At this time there were still isolated cases of
shooting and beating up of people suspected of being Ibos. We went back to
Sabon Gari, but the Yorubas we met refused to give me protection because they
said they knew me. I tried one or two European friends I knew, but each of them
swore they would rather die than give me protection since they were warned
grievously not to give any Igbo man or woman any protection. There was no point
going to a Church compound since almost all the people who ran into such compounds
on 1st of October were handed over to the Hausa mob to be beaten up or shot by
Hausa soldiers. I saw over 100 dead bodies on the Roman Catholic Church
compound. I saw over 200 dead bodies in and outside St. Stephen’s Church. A few
Ibo Union Grammar school girls had been raped by Hausa soldiers. There were
quite a few of those girls who would not live to tell their tales of woe! I saw
one Rosalin Metu, a class three girl. I saw the look on her face! She had gone
beyond saving! These helpless girls had been abandoned to their fate to die in
that cursed place.
My wife had similar gruelling experiences. She was questioned at
the airport as soon as I had been removed and shot down. She confessed she did
not know me. Because she could speak Efik well they allowed her to go, but some
Igbo women were shot down together with their husbands and children. The
Europeans at the Airport laughed and laughed! My wife presently found her way
to Fagge where she found a Togolese family we knew before. She was in their house
until I found her after 7 days of separation. I had carried a bullet wound in
my head for eight days without treatment. I had had no food for seven days.
Mr.
Anthony Ebiringa whose story has largely been
reproduced in Chapter 8 is another example of the ferocity of the attacks.
Walter
Eneanya, the 123rd witness was in a second-class coach
with about 100 other people returning from Gusau to the East when they were
attacked at Zaria by armed civilians on 29/9/66. Over 50 people with daggers
and big sticks fell on them. When he was felled he was stabbed with a double
edged sword between two ribs on his left side.
His attackers
after proclaiming him dead by saying “Ya mutu," left him and proceeded to
deal with other victims.
He was later
carried in an unconscious state to Zaria General Hospital in an ambulance with
14 corpses. Killing of victims in hospital beds at the hospital was the
practice and so on 5/10/66 he was removed to the railway station from where he
travelled by train to the East via Oshogbo.
The 119th
witness. Sergeant Rapheal Ibekwe
formerly of the Mobile Police Force Kaduna was similarly left for dead by his
soldier assailants and here is part of what he had to say:-
We were carried 56 miles from Kaduna and the soldier in front told
the driver to stop. They then came down and conferred behind the van. One asked
of a bridge under which water passes the others replied that they didn’t know
of any that side. After some time we were asked to come down and ordered to
stand in line facing them abreast. One of them asked “Has anyone anything to
say?” No one replied and he asked again. I then told him l had something to
say. After he had asked why I had kept quiet at first I was permitted to speak.
1 asked what i had done. One of the soldiers asked me “Do you want to know what
you have done? Do you remember January 15th” l replied that ever before January
15th I had been in the Police Force that I am neither a soldier nor a
politician. He told me I was talking nonsense and that the point was that I am
an Ibo man.
He asked Adamu
Zaria A.S.P,
what he had to say Adamu replied that he was born, educated and had since been
working in the North and that his parents were in Zaria. They replied
“nonsense! but you are an Igbo man.” Mr. Njjoku said that he had just been
transferred from Ibadan to Kaduna not quite three months ago and he was not in
Kaduna on the said date. They again said, “but you are an Ibo man.
One of the soldiers asked what had been happening since January
15th and whose fault it was? Adamu Zaria said it was the Government’s. ‘Who are
the Government?’ asked another soldier. One of the soldiers then said: ‘don’t
blame us: we are doing the work which we are delegated to do - to see if we are
capable of leadership, and we have proved that we are. Another soldier said
‘don’t blame us, put the blame on your so-called President and Ironsi.’
Then one of them said ‘About turn, quick march.’ As we moved, they
followed close behind us. They soon opened fire on us and we all fell down.
After several shots from automatic weapons, I heard Mr. Adamu
Zaria and Mr. Njoku breathing in an usual way. I heard one of the soldiers say
‘let us go, don’t waste ammunition we have much to do with ammunition this
night; there are fifteen Easterners in P.M.F. and we got only three; let’s go -
they must have caught more by now.’ Another said ‘they are not dead yet’ and
one of them replied, ‘don’t you know that life cannot go off like that? They
must wriggle a bit before they die.’ The other said ‘Babu; bari mu karawa Adamu
Kada yayi mana dabo iri no IRONSI’ (No, let us add more to Adamu lest he
perform on us the miracles of IRONSI).
Then one said, ‘Karbi nawa, akwai alsahi’ meaning ‘take mine,
there are ammunition.’ One of the soldiers later returned and once again discharged
several shots on A.S.P. Adamu Zaria after which he ceased breathing the soldier
then
turned to Mr. Njoku and did likewise. Njoku, too, ceased breathing. He then
turned towards me, but one of the other soldiers told him not to waste
ammunition and that I was already dead. He seemed not to believe, so he kicked
my left leg forward, and kicked it back again; I did not move. So one of the
soldiers said ‘Ben gays maka ba? Sun mutu; so mu tafi’ (Did I not tell you they
have died; let us go) and after gloating that they had finished the ‘bastards,’
they entered their landrover and drove away.
When they had gone, I crept into the bush and ran away leaving the
A.S.P. Adamu Zaria and Mr. Njoku, Inspector of Police (already dead) on
the spot.”
On the 29th of
September, 1966 Mr. Daniel Ike, then at Maiduguri ran for his life to the N.A.
Police station for protection. To his dismay and horror the N.A. Policeman on
duty attacked him with a dagger and truncheon and his next recollection was
when several hours later he recovered consciousness in the gutter among several
corpses. Those who came to collect the corpses found him still breathing and so
he started his journey to Oji River and Ihiala hospitals where he received
treatment for his battered head, his cut and partially blinded right eye and
his dislocated right arm.
Mr.
Augustine Unegbu, the 40th witness, on four different
occasions from 1st to 3rd October, 1966 escaped death by the skin of his teeth
during the Kano holocaust. Part of his story reads:
In the morning of Saturday 1st October 1966 the first plane left
with some of us. We had to wait till evening for another plane. Around 7p.m our
loads were being taken to the tarmac for loading. We heard gunshots. We thought
it was only a warning to the passengers to stop making noise at the airport.
When we rushed from the pavilion to the gate, we saw some people being shot;
some already lay dying on the ground. In fear, we rushed back and ran towards
the other gate, near the airport car park. When we got there, some soldiers who
were guarding that area asked us to go back to the pavilion. The reason they
did not shoot us was that there were several Europeans in the car-park at the
time. People ran helter-skelter around the airport. I was able to slip through the
customs clearance area where there were no soldiers. Six of us ran through,
went about a mile to the old terminal, and hid in a deep drain that had been
dug there earlier on. About 1 - 2a.m., it started to rain heavily. There were
still shooting in the airport; we also heard gunshots from the direction of
Sabon Gari. The flood-waters passing through the drainage had got up to our
knees so we climbed out, and hid in a nearby bush until the morning of Sunday
the 2nd of October. There was a pathway through this bush by which villagers
usually brought firewood on donkeys into Kano city (the Birni), so I told the
others that these villagers might see us and report to the soldiers and
suggested that we move away from there.
I was so worried about our position that I decided to check and,
when I look out, I saw an army landrover coming to a stop and some soldiers
coming out. I took to my heels, running in a zig-zag. Some shots were fired in
my direction but no bullets hit me. The remaining five persons were all killed.
I ran towards the old Catering Rest house which is now used as a
Secondary School, then through the Immigration Office and on to the airport
road. I was unfortunate to meet Hausa civilians at the airport bridge. They
stopped me and asked me where I came from; I said I was returning from work and
I was not an Ibo. (Five of them carried sticks and one had a cutlass.) They did
not believe me and started hitting me with sticks. The man with the cutlass
asked them not to kill me yet and to find out whether I had any money on me.
They took the sum of £80 from my pocket, my wrist watch and my shoes. He then
asked them to wait for him at the end of the bridge while he finished me off. I
put up my hand and parried his first stroke aimed at my head; four of my
fingers were cut, two of which became detached. The second stroke hit the heel
of my left palm.
Another set of Northern civilians were coming from behind and as
he look up towards them, I gripped him - I held his matchet with my right hand
and his body with my left arm. The other five came and hit me once again on the
head. As I turned round, he slashed with the matchet at the back of my head. My
neck was cut and I fell down. This happened about 8 a.m. They left me and went
away.
I lay there until about 1 p.m. Some soldiers arrived in a
landrover and stopped in the middle of the bridge. I heard the footsteps of two
persons, so I stopped breathing. One of them kicked me and said: You! Nyamri!
Dianyi!” He pushed me from one side to the other and I pretended to be dead.
They carried me up and tossed me over the bridge; I landed at the edge of the
water.
I was lying there until around 4 o’clock when some Hausa civilians
who were passing by, saw me and observed that I still breathed. They said: ‘Ga
wanna, ba ya mutu ba’, picked up stones and threw them at me. I was hurt on the
head in several places.
About 6.30p.m., I heard a lorry stop on the bridge. 8 heard some
people saying, in Hausa, ‘why did they kill this and throw him into the river?
It’s going to be difficult to bring him out. Let us go to the hospital and get
an ambulance and a stretcher to pick him up.’ My mind told me that if I
remained there overnight I would be killed. I therefore stood up. Some
civilians were still around; they said ‘this one is still alive, he has not
died. We will take him to the 5th Battalion headquarters to be shot.5
Some N.A. Policeman asked me to climb out. After coming half-way, I could not
go further; they led me by the arms and dragged me up onto the road. Their
lorry was filled with corpses, including those of some Nigeria Police men. They
tossed me on top of these corpses. Luckily for me, they took me, not to the 5th
Battalion, but with the corpses to the hospital. When we got there, the corpses
and me were thrown out of the lorry. Somebody who I believe is from the
Information Services of the North took photographs of the pile of corpses
(including me). I was then taken to Ward D. They cut up my blood-soaked clothes
with a pair of scissors, leaving my pants which were also blood-stained. I was
given a bed, and my wounds were bandaged without any treatment.
I sent a message to a Sierra Leonian Nursing Sister whom I knew
and who was married to a Yoruba man. She came, saw me and was greatly moved
with pity. When she asked what she could do for me, I asked to be given some
Ovaltine, milk and a handkerchief. She brought these things to me. Then I asked
her to get the doctor who is either a Pakistani or an Indian to send me to the
theatre for an operation.
Later on, two doctors arrived. They looked at me, said nothing and
left. I telephoned the Sister again and asked to be given an injection to make
me sleep. This was done and I fell deeply asleep.
I received no medicines and my wounds were not treated until the
4th of October when some white Red Cross women came to the hospital and asked
whether I wanted to go back to the East. I said yes. I asked the Sister to send
a message to Mr. Olu, a Yoruba, to bring me some clothes; Mr. Olu sent me a
complete Yoruba dress (an ‘agbada’).
On the 5th we were taken to the airport, from where we flew to the
East. I was treated in the general hospital by Dr. Onyeaso. My wounds had
already gone putrid and smelt. However, Dr. Onyeaso assured me that he would do
his best for me. He operated on me on the 8th of October. He made a good job of
it and thanks to him and to God I am still living.”
The 43rd witness,
Mr. Alfred M. Amachree
with another Easterner, Sylvanus
was hidden on the ceiling in the house of a Northern neighbour during the
disturbances of 29th September 1966 in Maiduguri. All through the day three
successive waves of killers and looters carried on their assignment in and
around that house without discovering their hiding place.
Unfortunately
when a fourth group came round after 7 p.m a Beri Beri petty trader urged them
to make a more thorough search as she was convinced there were people hiding in
the house.
It was then they
started to break the ceiling, Mr. Amachree fell from it and the attackers fell
on him with their clubs; one of the blows striking his scrotum left him
unconscious. Believing him dead they left.
But his luck did
not hold for long when he was recovering consciousness, one of the attackers
still hovering around called the others back and this time dragged him out and
went to work with spears and clubs until he was once again blacked out.
They still came
back a third time, this time led by a man carrying a dagger to give the final
thrust. Before he could do this an Inspector of Police arrived on the scene and
learning his name was Amachree and he was from Rivers area, the Inspector
rescued him from the attackers.
Mr.
Simon Muoemenam, a hotelier
and business man at Makurdi was visited by newly arrived soldiers accompanied
by some looting civilians on 20th September 1966 at about 9p.m. After
interrogation the people beat him up with clubs and jabbed him with arrows
until he became unconscious. He was then thrown into the bank of the River
Benue apparently believing that he was dead. It was in the bank of the river
that he recovered consciousness in the early hours of 21/9/66, found himself
completely naked and sneaked out to borrow a headtie from a woman trader to
cover his nakedness. He learnt his house had been completely looted and he
entrained the same day for Enugu. These and many others like them who were only
left by their attackers because they were believed to be dead provide vivid
illustration of the scope, extent and sadistic flare of the personal injuries.
It is fitting to end this cursory survey of evidence relating to personal
injuries by quoting the observations of an independent person. This is exhibit
HN/235, a letter written to the 103rd witness, William Nwosu by an expatriate
Reverend mother at Yola. It is an epitome of the intensity, barbarity and
sadism of the attacks and a veritable index of the type of personal injuries
that resulted.
Here it goes:-
Oct. 2nd, 1966
My Dear William,
Thanks for your letter received last week. I understand what you
have to say re the situation in the East and in view of the terrible happenings
here these few days. You and all who remain in the East are truly wise.
William, if ever l thanked God that you and all who are so dear to me were not
here for the awful attack, I am thanking him unceasingly, and will continue to
do so till the end of my life. We were in
school when Gabriel the cook rushed over to tell me to run as they (mobs) were
in the compound killing. I rushed the children out trying to get the little ones to the Convent; it was too late, the cries, yells and screams
were terrifying, people were running in all directions armed with sticks.
However, it was only the Northern parents who had seen the mob killing the Ibos
in the town and knowing that it would rush to the Mission, managed to get here
before them to collect their children. Though the shock of their frantic
appearances sent ourselves and the children into a panic, still they were the
cause of saving several Ibo lives. We got the car out and rushed car-load after
car-load of children to the barracks. Teacher Vincent and Josephine were under
the bed in father’s room. We got them out knowing we could not save them when
the mob came, and in spite of Josephine’s request to go to Archibong’s we took
them to the police. Lastly one reddish Ibo man, a small one, who works with
Stephen lloma, was hiding under the Atlas in the father’s Chapel with a tall
Ibo man called Francis, we pulled them out and covered them up with a cloth in
the back of the car and sent Bro. Martin off with them to the barracks. By a
miracle of Grace the car had only left the convent door when the fierce and
angry mob surrounded the Mission. We could not have saved even one Ibo if he
had been present. We rushed to the fathers who were trying to tell the crazy
leaders that there were no Ibos in the Mission. They carried hammers, spanners,
long knives and those two-blade swords, headpans and trays to put parts of the
bodies of their victims in. In front of us they all sharpened their blades on
the stone steps of the father’s house - Sister M. Colman screamed and
collapsed; we shivered but managed to hold on to consciousness. To my supreme
sorrow I knew many of the boys and men by sight, and had often spoken to them,
some were labourers from the hospital, others the boys in the town, but there
were some strangers from Katsina, also boys from Yola, Hausa tribe I think. I
said to the one I recognised ‘Sanu’ and they replied quite friendly and said,
we won’t kill you; only your Ibos we want - we assured them we had none but
they did not believe us, but searched the Mission from top to bottom. They did
not damage anything, then they spotted the H. S. car outside, but he had run to
get his two children out of the school, but we had already sent them to the barracks.
He was just able to run over the fields to the hospital as he would have met
the mob on the mission road. We denied all knowledge of the car, and persuaded
them not to burn it as it might belong to the police - they left it.
Eventually they left, but returned at 3 p.m. for more searching.
We were in agony, as the boys kept us informed also the Doctor who had to be
called to attend to Sr. M. Colman, as to the numbers of killings in the town.
My heart broke when I was told that they killed John O’Dike in front of the
Bank. Fortunately I heard this was not so, but not till the next day.
However, they did kill one tall Ibo man in front of the bank. John O’Dike will
tell you how he escaped. I think the Bank Manager got him to Yola in time. The
fathers hid Peter Okoya and little Luke in their house both were so brave and
resigned to die as they waited for the mob to come and kill them. There was no escape as the bodies of three or
four Ibos were found brutally murdered in the forest here. However, even this
morning three men who managed to spend two days in a huge tree came in to the
mission this morning, the fathers sent them to the barracks. The fighting
stopped last night and curfew is imposed from 7p.m to 7a.m - no one is allowed
to travel either. We were hoping to escape through the Camerouns but we had to
stay. I tried all that day to get runs by the P. O. but could not as Mr. Ndibe
and Clement were there. They brutally killed that nice man from the
Agricultural Office at Kafare, you may know him William. Thoneese O’Diwe’s
father was killed,
he has that boy who has fair hair and fair skin, looks like a coloured boy.
They tried hard to kill Archibong because he has been keeping the Ibo teachers
in his house. The Doctor pleaded for his life, so one gang listened to his
pleading but not the second group. There were several groups highly organised.
Then I heard the Dr. plead on the phone with Archibong to get out to the
barracks or bush but he refused, saying that he would die with his family. He
is a very brave man! Then the morning came and the Doctor rushed to the
hospital, he did not go to bed that fateful night of the 29th, but stayed by
the phone with the Ambulance and a policeman waiting. We were in his house as
the mission was not safe. Archibong was brought over to Dr. ’s office and they
both locked themselves in but the mob came again and forced and entrance. The
Dr. was put
outside, but the Catholic workers at the hospital - James the Tiv, Ferdin and
another Catholic rushed to Archibong’s rescue with sticks and one man
intercepted the blow from a huge knife that was aimed at Archibong’s head - the stick was out clean but not the man’s head. They
got them off, but what a mess they made of him. The Doctor sent an escort with
Archibong to Yola where many of the Ibos were. I don’t know what happened to
the family but their belongings were burnt. All that row of houses where you
used to live were pulled to pieces and the things buried outside.
Francis, Lucy’s father was almost the first to be killed and his
body was thrown
into the river as he ran to the water as they attacked him. Poor Francis, he was a good friend of mine. The Chief Clerk
in the Provincial Office was surrounded as he sat at his desk he turned to the
other staff workers and said with great courage ‘Gentlemen this is goodbye to
the world for me! He was beaten to death and had his throat
cut, but it was quick, thank God. The transport driver for Niger Co. a Mr.
Mbulla (?Spelling) was killed on the 29th. His little
daughter who is in Class I walked into the mission yesterday morning - we could
not find out where she spent the night but one of the boys said that a Hausa
woman had taken care of her. The mother and other children are in the East. We
gave the poor little child food and took her to the barracks. They are S. U.M.
I think. She does not know that her father was killed and we could not be so cruel as
to tell her. She is only about 9. The bodies of the poor Ibos were piled up on
the street in this dreadful town. The Christian Dr. pleaded that they be not
desecrated after death, so he had ten bodies brought to the morgue by 5 p.m. on
29th but already no fewer than 18 Ibos had been killed. Three bodies were
recovered from the water, one that of a young Ibo policeman, then Francis and another
Ibo man from a Government Office whose car they burned at the bank of the
river, and he they stoned to death as he tried to get into water. I don’t know
his name. In the P.E. Office, they rushed in on top of the Ibo Clerk there, the
P.E. jumped out of the window and shouted for help; it was no use. The man was
killed instantly. I don’t know his name, but this is exactly how he died. Under
the Doctor’s escort, the two of us Fr. Gough and myself went to the hospital
morgue to pay our last respects to our dead friends and to do what was possible
spiritually. Fr. gave general absolution and blessed the bodies with holy
water. I assisted and we then recited the prayers in a whisper. The mob were at
large and it was risky
to be seen near even a dead Ibo. Also, there was a Moslem attendant who was
making a list of the bodies for the report (hospital). We had to be careful.
Never have I been so dose to the Ibos as I gazed on their mangled bodies with
blood still flowing from them. They were partly dressed and their faces though
bruised by the beatings looked so peaceful and happy. Amongst these ten I only
recognised Francis
Mbasso, though his leg and back were burned,
his face was quite normal and so peaceful, both
boys were killed early on the day of the 29th and the Bar looted. Tell Mr.
Mbasso that Ignatius was talking to me only two days before his death and that
I was happy to assist at the last act he
needed in this sad life. We tried to get a funeral service arranged, but the
thing was too dangerous. However, Dr. had two enormous graves dug in the
Christian burial ground and the bodies were reverently buried by the P. W.D.
All the seven priests here have said daily Requiem Masses for the souls of the
dead. May they enjoy eternal rest and peace. Fr. Gough assures me that all
these Ibos were in the state of grace and their horrible though quick death
will save them from purgatory. Ibo land should rejoice that she has so many
innocent and pure souls in heaven this day. I am begging these holy souls to
pray for Nigeria’s peace and for the progress of the Church.
Only on suffering does the Church prosper! Innocent blood is never
spilled in vain; my heart is torn to shred and though I live, I have died a
thousand deaths. All through the day and night of the 29th I pictured Peter Okoye waiting calmly for the mob to kill, he and Luke, then all the
other whom I feared would be killed in the prison where they were being
protected. You know how treacherous the Warders can be. Mr. Omi, the head of
the prison escaped death by seconds, his office was surrounded a few minutes
after he left it. Something urged him to get out. They were furious to miss
him. So they looted everything in his house. The two little children are in the
bush hiding. Many Ibos are still in the bush and another one has just come in;
he dressed as a Moslem. I did not see him or I should have given him some food.
They won’t let me go to the Yola Prison to take food and comfort the Ibos, so I
am feeling very frustrated and sad. Please tell them this if they see you. The
Lamido got 40 of them out of plane yesterday; may God bless him for this,
though he did give his consent for the killings here. Maiduguri has also had
its attack, how many killings we do not know; Jos too. I have been told that
all Northern soldiers are going to Enugu to kill all the Ibos there - Can you
guess how this news nearly drives me insane? There are of course so many
stories being circulated that it is hard to know where to believe.
Fr.
Gough has just come back from the prison at Yola, all the Ibos are alive
and being treated well. Mr. Ndibe, our three teachers, John Odike and others.
Of course those missing have been killed, but the exact number I do not know, I
have seen ten bodies as I told you but only recognised Francis Mbasso, R.I.P.
I must finish this far from pleasant letter William - my love to
Theresa and see my friends. Take care of yourselves and please pray for us. ”
God bless.
Yours very sincerely in J. C.
(Sgd.) ???”
0 comments so far,add yours