THE DAY MUM STORMED HELL!
Abak Town was done and dusted - tranquil as a graveyard. Everyone who was not armed and did not wear camouflage green khaki had scampered to safety. The ancient town was a battlefield! The sound of booming guns stabbed the haunting silence with ominous frequency. Battle lines were drawn as heavily-armed Nigerian forces were determined to break through the defensive lines of battle-hardened Biafran forces. Overhead, Nigerian jet fighters whizzed, like vampire bats hunting for prey. All day the frenzied traffic had been out of Abak, and by evening the last family had said goodbye to Abak Ikot Anwan (Abak, city of warriors) - leaving the fate of the city in the hands of warriors.
Into this Armageddon, rode one hell of a woman furiously - Lydia. Everyone who saw her heading in the opposite direction thought she was crazy. Her “crazed” head was bowed, her heart pounded like a drum, and she had tears in her eyes. Her weary feet could not power the pedals of her white Raleigh bicycle fast enough. Everyone was headed in the opposite direction. They warned her she was riding into her grave. But she did not care. She kept going. She could barely hear the bangs of the gunshots, nor did she pay attention to the zinging sounds of the jet fighters overhead. All she heard was the thumping of her heart. She knew this was a ride into the abyss of death! But it was a ride she must make for the sake of love.
“We were huddled together on the road by the health center,” my sister, whom we all call “Sister”, recounts. I was a toddler; same with Emma, my second sister. Nnamdi, my elder brother, had started school, and Sister, our firstborn, had started school too. Both Nnamdi and Sister were in junior primary school. Our nanny was crying. A nurse with a heart of gold could not abandon us, so she stood there with us crying. We were in the middle of hellfire. Those who knew the danger we were in lifted their eyes, looked up to the Ediene hills nearby and wondered where our help could come from.
Before the crack of dawn, mum had left to go and look for food for her starving family. The war had taken its toll and hunger and death had ravaged the land of “Biafra”. My dad was reported to have been killed in Calabar and no one had heard of him in a dozen months. Mum soldiered on like an amazon, praying every day for my daddy, and feeding the family. When she heard that civilians had been evacuated from Abak in preparation for battle, she was far from the city. Abak was a danger zone. Then she burst into view like a wild “apparition.” She had only one bicycle and that was not enough for four children and the nanny. She missed her husband. She cried. She prayed. She was confused. She hugged us one after the other, as she wept. “Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!” She cried.
Just then two uncles on bicycles turned the bend like commandoes. This was no time for talk. The uncles could die at the hands of soldiers for not joining the war efforts or on suspicion of being saboteurs. Each grabbed two kids, and put them on his bicycle; my mum grabbed me and we were set to go. The last family to leave Abak as Nigerian forces and Biafran forces exchanged gunpowder and battled for the city of warriors. My granddad, tough as nails, surfaced from the blues, and said to mum, “I came to be sure you and my grandchildren were safe.” He kissed her and rode furiously away. The fireworks were now on full display.
Whoever said that only fools tread where angels fear to thread got it wrong. Love treads where angels fear to tread. Mothers graze where bears, lions, and tigers fear to graze. Mum had since gone to be with the Lord but every Mother’s Day, I thank God for giving me a mother who had all virtues so mixed in her soul that all creation could rise and declare her the perfect example of a mother. A mother who could storm hell for the sake of her children.
I appreciate God again for blessing me with a wife, Mercy, who not only looks like my mother but appears to be scripted the same way, and cut from the same dye. We love you so much!
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY TO ALL MOTHERS!