SOUTHEAST NIGERIA'S UNKNOWN GUNMEN

The #EndSARS protest last year and it's aftermath was a message to the people and government in Southeastern Nigeria that things cannot remain the same anymore. Sadly, while the Governor in Lagos moved beyond just paying lip service to working on recommendations from the panel set up to probe the activities of SARS as well as paying compensation to victims and families of victims, those set up in the Southeast and the South-South regions where no more than spectacles and theatres of the absurd, where impediments upon impediments were placed in the way of petitioners, all in the name of requirements and processes, which led to no end. Eventually the whole process, like the charade it was fashioned out to become, fizzled out. The lot of them unceremoniously, without the submission of any paper to the governors to act upon, even if it was just for the show of it.


The fact that nothing was done by the Southeastern governors to address the issues relating to police brutality and Extrajudicial Killings of young men especially, after the protests, with the names of some policemen suspected to have indulged in human rights violations mentioned, with the hope that their activities will be investigated, and thereafter prosecuted, only to find the same people walking the streets free, which is akin to rubbing insults on the raw wounds of the victims, their relatives and others this affected. When some youths decided to take up arms against the state, it was no surprise that they started with the checkpoints dotting the landscape of Southeastern Nigeria at a time when there was relative peace, and the people and their representative 👉🏽 CHECKPOINTS IN NIGERIA'S SOUTHEAST had at one time or the other spoken up about the money-spinning machine that checkpoints on the roads in that region have become for policemen, soldiers, naval ratings, customs men and officers, civil defence, as well as other uniformed security and paramilitary personnel. From there, these men now referred to as Unknown Gunmen, (a media creation, following denials by IPOB, of responsibility for the rampant destruction of lives and property by the former), expanded their operations to include police stations, correctional facilities, and other security outposts.


The insecurity in Imo State, is of a different dimension in that it appears to have political undertone, so much so that while the governor raised alarm to highlight the peculiar nature of the insecurity in his state, especially the political dimension to it, he stopped short of placing responsibility solely at the feet of his political opponents belonging to the opposition party, seeing as he is battling opposition within the rank and file of his own party as well. It was in Imo State that the erstwhile I.G. of Police, pronounced the Eastern Security Network (the armed wing of IPOB), ESN responsible for the insecurity there, off the cuff, without as much as investigating the matter, only to find that he'd been relieved of his position, while the words were hardly out of his mouth, though that was hardly as a consequence of his misguided utterance (in this particular case) than it was that his removal was overdo, and therefore predetermined for that day, unbeknownst to him.


The ESN claim their mandate is to rid Igboland of murderous fulani herdsmen, and have continually denied involvement in other activities at variance with their stated objective, but it appears the security agencies couldn't be bothered with distinctions as they rained all of their coercive might on anything aimed and poised against them in the Southeast, amidst allegations of human rights abuses against innocent citizens from Southeastern Nigeria. It didn't help that a meeting held by the hierarchy of Nigeria's military to discuss the security situation in the South East and the tackling of same, to restore peace and normalcy in the region had no one from the region present, because of the lopsided appointments especially in the security sector of Nigeria, that's been the hallmark of this administration. The tone of the president in statements credited to him, as well as in his new found love for interviews, haven't allayed the fears of Igbos that the present intifada in the Southeast by the military does not have the blessings of their principal, and Commander-in-Chief.


The video that went viral, of some residents in some town in the Southeast, hailing armed men, appeared to me very disturbing. Even the non-discerning could tell that it wouldn't be long before these Unknown Gunmen will turn their arms on the people, after successfully dismantling checkpoints in the east. I wondered then, of their intentions didn't go beyond sacking those checkpoints to relieve the people of that region of a major burden only, or was it really intended to provide a safe haven for them to continue to carry out nefarious and criminal activities, without let or hindrance. Today the activities of UGM is now looking more like a guns for hire situation, with business people, politicians (latest of which was the decapitation of a security guard to a member of the national assembly from Imo State, after the UGM met his absence), and just the everyday person, bearing the brunt. It seems that many are using the opportunity this security crisis created to settle scores, while lives are also being lost as part of collateral damage, as UGM seem to be employed to right perceived injustices and/or to perpetrate one looks to be the norm, rather than the exception these days, such that threats from one person to annihilate another are no longer taken as jokes or mere threats anymore these days.


In the midst of all these madness, "Bakassi Boys", who held sway in the early days of the return to civil rule in 1999, notable for their extrajudicial killings of those suspected of armed robbery and the likes; staged a return with a parade somewhere in Awka a few days back, in the full glare of residence, firing gunshots at random, with loud music in the background, with no police or other government security apparati anywhere in sight. 

This time around, they claim they have come to continue in the same light, and also to battle cultists whose activities in Anambra State have 

grown worrisome in recent times. Only time will tell if they will cross paths with UGM, if they considered the latter's activities to be at cross purposes to theirs. I shudder to imagine what such a scenario will look like. 

Sadly, when the security agents descend, the arrests they carry out are arbitrary, with those who eventually managed to get released claiming they only did so, after parting with huge sums of money. Many others are said to not have been so lucky, especially in the period when judiciary workers were on strike, and none of those arrested were charged to court, and couldn't be bailed. When a truck fell into a ditch in Onitsha, with the contents (bullets) of it's container got spilt on the road, with residents moving beyond shock and bewilderment to picking them, the security agencies should have known that many more like that would've passed through successfully and without incidence, hence should've been more proactive, rather than the reactions we have now, that's resulted into the arrest of innocents, after the UGM have had a field day to themselves, and yet continue to wreak havoc in the region.


Another unfortunate angle to all these, is the attack and torching of offices of the electoral agency, INEC in the region, with elections in just a few months in Anambra, and in 2023 nationwide. It now appears like there's a plan to disenfranchise the people from exercising their franchise, and precluding them from determining who will lead them at several levels of government and governance, and through whom dividends of democracy can be passed down to the grassroots. Unfortunately, as regards dividends of democracy, the Southeast region has fared badly, with so much left to be desired, at all levels, and from all levels of government. If truth be told, it is the lack of government presence in the Southeast, that can be fingered as one of the reasons driving the agitation for secession, that personalities like Nnamdi Kanu are latching on to promote their agenda.


It is doubtful though that things will change should Biafra be handed the Igbo on a platter, because the leaders will either be today's slave masters, or new ones, who will be same as the old. Just look at the audacity with which Nnamdi Kanu issues orders to anyone listening to his rants (as most times that is what his words come through as), and you wonder how Biafra under that sort of person could be. The fact that people stayed back at home, after his so called "order", in honour of lost and dead loved ones during the civil war, doesn't necessary mean they support IPOB's ideals, many did in the spirit of "Ozoemena", while others could've just because of the atmosphere of insecurity in the east, and the fear that the government forces could be battling UGM and/or IPOB/ESN on the day, and innocents could be caught in the crossfire. Either way, Igbos could definitely do without the threats, from Nnamdi Kanu and his followers prior to May 30.


If Igbo people can be truthful about some things, even the much revered Dim Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu, in some of his statements appeared not to leave much room for compromise or considerations for an alternative path to pursue things, and how that could have negatively affected the fortunes of Biafra, in those heady days, is not difficult to imagine. How are we sure that even if the referendum that's being sought by IPOB and other secessionist groups are granted, the results won't go against their wishes? Especially, when you consider that Igbo though insular in the way their locale is set, especially post civil war, but international in outlook, would want to be boxed in, for which President Muhammadu Buhari in an unscripted response in a recent interview described Igboland as a "dot in a circle" (which Igbo youths are currently running with, as you'd take up a name defiantly, just to spite those who thought to diminish you by it).

The truth is, if the utopia the Igbo dream of cannot be perceived today in the slightest, it will not be realised wholesale in Biafra tomorrow. Any change Igbos desire, must begin today and must be required and demanded of the leaders/rulers today by the people, against waiting until Biafra comes. For now, the Igbo must learn to negotiate to their advantage, within the present framework, beyond merely getting political power at the centre, but unto other items that will make life and the conduct of their business and enterprise flourish, and easier to manage. That the Igbo are disadvantaged today, doesn't mean they will remain so tomorrow, for only if the Igbo exist, will they live to see a government tomorrow that will be less discriminatory, either led by an Igbo son, or not.


'kovich

NAIJA TOUR (10)

I wasn't surprised that the fat man going at his food with his fingers while at the same time licking them, did not consider my plight even when I lied to him that the interview I intended to attend in Port Harcourt had started and there was no way I was going to meet it, hence my decision to cancel the trip and ask for a refund or part of the fare I had already paid. He nonchalantly told me there was no way I was getting my money back and continued with the shame that his style of eating represented. I blamed myself for missing out on the telltale signs that should've warned me that I had come to fake park, wondering how it was that I fell for their trick after knowing and successfully avoiding their shenanigans in Onitsha especially, over the years.

Taking all that had happened in its stride, I left the "fake" park for the other one, and was still lucky to find the bus that still had space for just one passenger and hopped in. The joy of finally having to leave Onitsha (in Nigeria's Southeast) before any trouble between the joint military task force and protesting IPOB members started was more than the disappointment from the money I had lost to the people at the fake park. It didn't take up to ten minutes after I boarded the  small bus to Port Harcourt (in Nigeria's Niger Delta/South-South) before it made its way into Onitsha-Owerri Road far away from the tense atmosphere of the Head Bridge.

VIEW OF ONITSHA-OWERRI ROAD FROM THE MOTORPARK, ONITSHA, ANAMBRA STATE.

Passengers in the bus were on about the Anambra State governor, Willie Obiano and his penchant for throwing up unnecessary celebrations over projects that required just a simple cutting of tapes or not. They talked about how youths have gone to posters around the state to replace "OBIANO IS WORKING" with "OBIANO IS DRINKING" in reference to the governors' perceived gluttony and support of tradition in a society where the largely christian population was shedding what they term their heathenish past. Though I disagreed with their views on the latter, I didn't contribute to their discussion, just was disappointed with them for thinking that foreign cultures and religion is better and right while ours should be relegated to the background, if not scrapped.

The road after Ihiala, towards Uli was still in that same state of disrepair as I met it two years back, even though construction work which was started back then was either still in progress or must have been abandoned. Passing through a section of that road, especially the unpaved section proved quite an onerous task as the bus groaned as it struggled to move atop the dusty laterite soil, throwing dust at us from the few inlets where the windows and boot (because of the excess luggage) weren't properly closed. The dust thrown up from vehicles passing in the opposite direction also affected us, as I'm sure ours did to them.

It wasn't long before we encountered a military truck fully loaded with soldiers who sang as they passed us by in the opposite direction, shooting in the air at the same time. It was at that point that one of the females in the bus drew our mind back to Onitsha, and how this could be reinforcement to the troops on ground, a pointer that things might have gone awry there. Indeed it was, because another passenger called an acquaintance in Onitsha and was informed that hell has being let loose as there was an ongoing clash between protesting members of IPOB and the security forces, with gunshots heard, following the burning down of a cement-laden truck by the protesters, and fears are that a few of the protesters had been shot, some wounded and others dead.

While fellow passengers kept in touch with people back at Onitsha, I fed my eyes with the much I could glean of the part of Imo State we were passing through. It was much the construction site I met the last time I passed through months back, though much of what I now see were in the advanced stages. The governor apparently feels infrastructure makes more sense than paying workers' salaries, even after collecting bailout funds from the federal government to pay them. It is very unfortunate that the people of Imo State have had to be saddled with a megalomaniac who feels that he's doing his people a favour without any sense to serve, as evidenced in many controversial statements and actions he had made and continues to make, especially in the last two years, making him out as very insensitive and intolerant of opposing views, that I wonder if any of his advisers actually advice him, or that they do and he couldn't care any less about what they or the people think, as he rules the state with his nuclear, extended and compound family. 

As we inched into Rivers State I began to feel somnolent. Fatigue had finally set in, such that by the time I alighted from the bus before it continued on to Port Harcourt my feet had become so heavy that walking became an arduous task. I managed to get a cab going to Obigbo with the radio tuned to the FM band of RADIO BIAFRA. I had heard Radio Biafra about three years ago on shortwave, and the presenter then was energetic, though I cannot say if it the presenter was Nnamdi Kanu, when Radio Biafra was the information arm of MASSOB. Even the Nnamdi Kanu voice I heard much later online had some power to it, even when his rants were mostly incoherent and subjects ridiculous. This particular presenter was very dull and repetitious in relaying his message, amidst calls that were coming in from the homeland and outside of it. He confirmed that shots had been fired in Onitsha, and a female protester was confirmed dead, while others were injured. He however didn't mention other information I already had, concerning the burning of a cement laden truck and some buildings.

That man kept on blaming the federal government as well as the Willie Obiano-led Anambra State government for the ugly outcome of events in Onitsha, and none at the doorstep of the group he represents which by the look of things might have been unruly and may have ignited the flame which led to the unfortunate turn of events. Interestingly, none of the callers saw the stupidity in the act of the protesters, who rather than to peacefully protest, had put a commercial town like Onitsha on a lockdown (for the second day running), such that travelers like me, coming into Onitsha had to make like Tuaregs from Asaba across the Head Bridge or wait endlessly in vehicles conveying us into Onitsha to our different places of destination.

TIMBER BUS-STOP, OBIGBO, RIVERS STATE, NIGERIA.

By the time the cab got me to Timber Bus Stop a few minutes after, at Obigbo where I alighted, my ears were already aching from the rubbish I had been subjected to, wondering how people like that Cab Driver managed to listen to such for hours on end. I could still see signs of burnt tyres and paper Biafra flags on the ground (reminiscent of the IPOB demonstrations there a few days back) as I waltzed to the hotel nearby, to rest my bones till my appointment scheduled for the next day in Port Harcourt. Though I intended to rest, I found that once I had managed to lazily bathe myself, I walked away from the hotel to buy food from the next street, as I didn't think that I would have my full with the hotel's dishes for the kind of price I was willing to pay. Lunch was roast chicken and bread with a big bottle of cold water, which I lounged upon while switching between CNN and a Ghanaian TV station in my hotel room, as I placed a call to a fair pulchritude I had once known in my days across the creeks to see if there's any truism behind Okafor's Law of Congo-Dynamics.

'kovich

NAIJA TOUR (9)

So it came to pass, that after about an hour of trekking from where the bus I was travelling in had to stop due to traffic somewhere in Asaba, Delta State, I reached the Asaba end of the bridge over the River Niger, connecting the Niger Delta/South-South Nigeria with the Southeast popularly called HEAD BRIDGE (or is it Bridge Head now?). At this point traffic seemed to be slowly moving as a few men of the mobile police force were on hand to control the traffic, sometimes conducting a search especially of some private vehicles.

We (band of trekkers) soon learnt that there had been a protest by members of the Indigenous People Of Biafra, IPOB the day before with intention to hold a mega demonstration (demanding the release of their leader Nnamdi Kanu, presently in detention on charges of treason, terrorism, amongst others, for demanding a sovereign state of Biafra) same day I made to enter Onitsha en route Port Harcourt. I wasn't perturbed by the presence of heavily armed members of the security services since I had nothing to hide, though I suspected that my huge backpack may arouse some suspicion within them about me, so rather than walk away from them, I walked towards them.

I was glad to find that moped taxis were allowed through the bridge, and though crossing the bridge didn't appear longer than the distance I had already covered trekking, I was already tired and my legs now too heavy to lift, so I did the next best thing by getting one of the bikes to ferry me across the "Head Bridge" from the Asaba end, to the Onitsha end, a journey which took less than five minutes to navigate as we left stranded vehicles behind in the hold-up till we got to the Onitsha end where I had to alight, raise my hands (because I saw others doing same) as we passed by the stern-faced,  gun totting military and mobile police men. I had experienced this sometime in 2007 in the heady days of militancy in the Niger Delta, when I visited Port Harcourt from Bonny on my way to a friends'. I noticed to the left of the road, where most of the vehicles of the different arm of the security services present were parked, a man lying facedown into the sand and watched over by about three soldiers, wondering what crime he must have committed to have found himself in such a position. I meant to walk up to the soldiers to ask them what the man had done to deserve such a cruel treatment, but I thought better to walk away as it didn't seem the armed men had any intention to be civil that morning.

I soon walked by the statue of DIM CHUKWUEMEKA ODUMEGWU OJUKWU, the late Igbo Icon, who remains to many a demigod (even a god to some others), and I stood awhile, to not only stare at the harmattan-dustied work of art (a shadow of what it was at its unveiling, which I thought should've been better sculpted), but also to take in the legacy of what the man stood for while he lived. It was for the actions of this man, for his beloved people, when Nigeria turned it's back on the Igbos, seeing in them objects for target practice and game only, especially in Nigeria's North, that the then Colonel Ojukwu on the 6th of July, 1967 after due consultations with relevant stakeholders, in what was then Eastern (Now part of South-South/Niger Delta and all of Southeast) Nigeria,  agreed to pull out of Nigeria.

STATUE OF DIM CHUKWUEMEKA ODUMEGWU OJUKWU IN ONITSHA, ANAMBRA STATE JUST AS YOU ALIGHT FROM THE HEAD BRIDGE

For the three years Biafra fought to free itself off the clutches of Nigeria, to which it had been joined/amalgamated by the colonialists since 1914, the dream of a utopian land of the free was nurtured, birthed but never weaned, due to the war. Igbos never forgot, much like the Jews never forget the Holocaust, and despite what others may say about Ojukwu, he remained the Hero of the Igbo, up till his death four years ago.  

A few Igbo sons have played upon this sentiments (that has remained an idea and ideal for the Igbo, as I elucidated in my treatise on BIAFRA | madukovich's cogitations https://madukovich.wordpress.com/2015/07/16/biafra/) to once a while attempt to recreate or force into being conditions (not necessarily with the bloodshed that birthed the call for secession the first time) under which Biafra can once again be actualized, and because most of these weren't properly thought through, their actions ended up dead on arrival. Some of the agitations for Biafra in recent times have been of and from youths, many of which weren't born ay the time the war was fought (and lost on the Biafran side). This one by the Indigenous People (The Igbo lay claim to being one of the aboriginal groups in Nigeria, unlike some other tribes whose geneology link them to other regions of Africa, even of the world) Of Biafra, IPOB led by Nnamdi Kanu who used to head the media arm of the Movement For The Actualization of the Sovereign State of Biafra, MASSOB (led by Chief Ralph Uwazuruike, who has since denounced Kanu's activity and gone ahead to float another pro-Biafra group) via RADIO BIAFRA based in the United Kingdom, is different in the manner in which it has been able to galvanize in so short a time Igbo youth mainly to protest, even in the face of intimidation, arrests, even deaths; and also managing  to grind to a halt, activities in major towns in the Southeast (notable for commercial activities, where traders find it difficult to lock their shops even for late siblings or in respect of later close relatives, and rush to open same shops minutes after Catholic morning mass on Sundays) and a few towns in the South-South/Niger Delta region (where the reception, unlike in the former was lukewarm to slightly antagonistic, especially by state governors of the region).

CHIEF RALPH UWAZURUIKE (LEFT) OF MASSOB AND NNAMDI KANU  (RIGHT) OF IPOB

Unlike in the period MASSOB held sway and Radio Biafra broadcasted via shortwave with their message available only to a few who could tune in using transistor radios, IPOB has managed to move to FM and also online, with several efforts by the Nigerian Broadcasting Corporation, NBC to block its signals hitting the brick wall, and even when they were able to block one, floated signals elsewhere on the FM bandwidth with ease much to the discomfort and disgrace of the government agency charged with the responsibility of tracking and ending signals from the renegade station. The messages from Radio Biafra has being largely responsible for the way some youths who have been inundated with the messages have gone on, not only to show support but also to be involved in demonstrations, initially asking for a separate state, and much later (as when I passed through) asking for the release of their detained leader.

But all I wanted to do once in Onitsha, was get to a bank and afterwards eat something. I was fortunate to find a bike/Okada rider to carry me to the nearest bank branch whose debit card I carry, so that if it turned out that I still have ATM issues I could walk into the bank and sort it out, of course not without throwing some insult, the way of any bank staff within reach, for the trouble I passed through with the debit card their bank issued me. Fortunately, I was able to withdraw the much I needed, and with another Okada rider made my way through traffic, past military checkpoints with arms raised, away from the main Onitsha road to the motor park on Owerri Road, with intention to make for Port Harcourt, as it was looking like the day will be quite rough, with the impending demonstrations by IPOB youths with the force at Head Bridge looking ready to thwart any attempt at disturbing the peace for that day.

I jumped into the first bus to Port Harcourt I met on ground, once I got to the park on Onitsha-Owerri Road. At which point the rumble in my stomach reminded me of my sorry state of hunger, but that wasn't because I hadn't attempted to get something to eat. I had in fact approached a lady at a stall while trekking from Asaba towards the Niger Bridge, and asked her if she had bread. From the nook where she was eating bread and stew, she asked if I could see bread as part of the things she displayed for sale, I responded in the negative, and she turned back to her food, while I walked away feeling like an ass.

I was the second passenger in the bus. The only thing I could find to buy for food that I was sure won't cause me any trouble was AKI N'UKWA (coconut and fried breadfruit seeds) snack, which I

AKI N'UKWA

bought and feasted upon while waiting for the bus to load for Port Harcourt. Time was of the essence for me, not because I had an appointment particularly fixed for that day in Port Harcourt, but rather because I wanted to be out of Onitsha as soon as possible, as what I saw at the Head Bridge earlier that morning at Onitsha could possibly not mean well for anybody who remained to see how things will unravel.

Only one other passenger joined us after about an hour since I boarded the bus. I had by now become very impatient, and began to wonder what was in Port Harcourt that I wasn't meant to see or meet that everything since I started the journey to that destination conspired to delay me. I alighted from the bus, trekked further to the next opening from where the bus I had earlier boarded was, only to discover the "real" park, and that where I'd been was no park, but just a space where unregistered buses stayed to "hustle" passengers, and may be there for a whole day without getting filled, compared to the real park, where three buses headed for Port Harcourt where at different levels of being filled, in fact one needed just one passenger. That was how I went to the "fake" park to appeal to the sensibility of the so called "park manager" to kindly refund my transport fare, or at most give a part of it back. 

'kovich
PHOTO CREDIT
- http://www.nigeriamasterweb.com
- http://www.nigerianmonitor.com
- http://www.naijatreks.com

NAIJA TOUR (8)

One of the advantages of banking with old generation banks for many Nigerians is the thought that they could not fail like the new generation ones. Even if and when they are rocked by scandals that's enough to swallow the new generation banks, these first generationals  manage to stay afloat, especially because I think they have acquired assets over the years, besides their presence in all the nooks and cranies of Nigeria (including the remotest of places), and have in their boards very powerful people (in government and out of it) or their fronts or proxies, that somehow manage to make financial regulators quite sympathetic to them when they run foul of the law, leaving them with a slap on the wrist in such situations.    

So, even when such banks slowly and reluctantly embrace latest banking technology they do not necessarily lose their crowd, though they may no longer be first choice for most of their customers. The reason they remain in contention may not be unconnected with the fact that they make withdrawals herculean which is good news for many who intend to "truly" save, compared to the new generation banks where there are a gazillion ways to withdraw your money online real time. Unfortunately, hanging with the old generationals during a tour like I undertook meant that each time the ATM cards works, one must withdraw maximally, as it may be the last time one could be successful at the ATM for another few hours for reasons ranging from poor network (that has a way of peculiarly choosing such banks) amongst others, some of which point at the incompetence of the IT sections of such banks.

So it was, that the last time I used that banks debit card was in Lafia (Nasarawa State capital) the night before arriving in Abuja while strolling through Jos Road. I don't know where I got the confidence to spend cash buying medication and food expensively  in Abuja, when I knew I would be traveling later that evening. The first sign that all may not go well was when my host was driving me out of the Games Village after that sumptuous meal of Boiled Tilapia and Shawarma and I tried the ATM there, and I was told that my issuer was unoperative or inoperative (the exact words used skip my memory now). A next try at another, a few meters away (with a guy standing right beside the ATM like he had intention to mug) also proved abortive, but I had hopes. A third try was at Utako (a nidus for transport company termini), before approaching the Luxury Bus Terminus, and it was the same story, though I was able to check my balance (to be sure that the other times I attempted to withdraw was not recorded as successful). 

Gladly, my preferred luxury bus company with which I frequently travel was much into the "cashless" thing, even doing discounts for passengers who use their debit cards rather than paying cash. I was happy to use my debit card on their Point Of Sales (POS) machine, which was issued by the same old generation bank whose ATM I had in my possession. Unfortunately, the POS machine declined my card. It was now some few minutes to six in the evening and I was beginning to feel awkward. Off again into the streets I went to try more ATM's only to come back with the same results. Back at the terminus, the lady issuing the tickets wouldn't let me try my debit card again, and was beginning to view me with suspicion even though her records show that I was a frequent traveller with her bus company. I asked if I could transfer the money to her company's account but she flippantly responded that she didn't know the account. Frustrated, I asked to see the manager, she said "ok", but made no attempt to stand from her seat, or beckon to anyone to help me.

Luckily, a young man I had seen walk in and out of the cubicle where she was seated, was once again going out for something, and I approached him and explained my predicament, to which he hardly broke sweat before giving me an account to wire the required sum for the ticket to an account number I suspect was his, and thereafter directed the ticketing clerk to give me the ticket once the "alert" hit his phone. I couldn't be more grateful. The qualms I had with the ticketing clerk didn't stop me from asking her for a window side seat, to which she quickly responded to the effect that there was none. I was just happy to be able to leave Abuja that night, even though it only meant I'd have a day to loaf about before business in Port Harcourt by so doing.

I went about "charging" my "power bank" at one of the stalls at the terminus, as my mobile phones were already showing signs of low batteries, and it was important for me to be online. The food (jollof rice) served by the bus company in Abuja was better than those in Lagos. It didn't smell of so much monosodium glutamate as with the one at the Lagos park, but I could only manage two spoonfuls before chewing away at the fried meat, which also wasn't bad. The water, though not as cold as I'd have wanted it was much welcome, and I gulped the whole content in the bottle down. I couldn't buy anything at the park because I was low on cash and saved what I had for the journey, where I would then need to buy a thing or two if need be.

The bus started boarding about eight thirty later that evening, but interestingly it wasn't full as at the time the journey started. I guess that was why it delayed so much, and there was no first bus or second bus (that was usually by 5pm and 7pm respectively), rather just one bus to Port Harcourt, in Rivers State, South-South Nigeria, in the heart of the Niger Delta. The ticketing clerk may have thought she was dealing me a bad one when she refused to give me a window seat, but it turned out that there was no one for the window seat, and we left Abuja with just me occupying the space for two people. I took up my space near the window with joy, relishing what I missed on my way to Abuja. It was good to know that we were now on our way to Port Harcourt, as it was beginning to feel like something was doing all it could to stop me from reaching that destination, especially at the time I planned to be there.

I slept, woke up and we were at Lokoja. Must be around 2am and passengers were allowed to go grab some things to eat, drink and "pee". As usual, I went for things that wouldn't cause me bowel distress, in kebab (suya in local parlance) and water. The driver and his mate also used the opportunity to fill the bus with Port Harcourt bound passengers they met on ground, and that was how I got me a fat man as seatmate, and the journey continued in earnest. The air from outside was chilly, enough to cause passengers on the other side of the aisle to beg that I closed the window to the dissatisfaction of my seatmate who registered his displeasure with a "mtcheeeeew".

All was going well for a while till we heard a loud bang, that I felt came from under the vehicle, and I had hoped for the worst, seeing that I didn't have lots of cash in my wallet, something that armed robbers don't like to see or hear, and for which many passengers had gotten maimed and killed under such circumstances. I quickly scanned the area for means of escape should push come to shove, only to find that the bus was gradually waltzing to the side of the road closer to a light source that turned out to be from a hotel on a lonely road in Asaba, Delta State. There was no sign of armed robbers, nor of policemen. Even vehicles were passing in trickles, and those were mainly buses and cars used for haulage purposes, heavily loaded within, and without especially on their tops, with the load on top for most of them appearing to be larger than those inside the vehicles.

Most of us passengers alighted from the bus, when it became obvious that it was a case of a burst tyre in the first of the four tyres at the left back, and rantings by passengers began, for me the second time since I started my tour (though for a different reason as from with the first). The feeling of something stopping me from getting to Port Harcourt crept in again and I quietly waved it away while watching proceedings. The drivers' mate's attempt to remove the faulty tyre and replace with another met with arguments and counterarguments from passengers who felt he wasn't going about it properly. He managed to lose all but one of the nuts after "jacking" the bus to what some of the passengers didn't consider high enough. As if things weren't bad enough, it started to rain, not in drizzles but torrentially that those of us on the ground had to run to a nearby stall beside the hotel, to escape getting drenched even though we couldn't escape getting cold. The mate continued to try to lose the nut but when it appeared that there might be a case of misthreading which had made it difficult for the nut to come lose, he decided to put the other nuts back in place, after which we reboarded the bus and continued the journey slowly this time, as much as the burst tyre could allow in the rain. It really didn't feel so bad going the way we were going and I wondered why the driver didn't consider this earlier rather than exposing us to inclement weather, and possible marauding right in the middle of nowhere.

By a few minutes after five in the morning we stopped. I thought we were at a military checkpoint, but it turned out to be a traffic gridlock. Vehicles were parked bumper to bumper and for a long time we didn't move until some flicker of daylight began to appear on the horizon. At this point I got down with some passengers to see actually what exactly was going on. We could see nothing. Even when there was movement, it was for just a few feet and nothing more. The stretch of vehicles was so long that it was difficult to see the end. Passengers were now beginning to alight and walk towards the Niger Bridge into Onitsha. I was very tired, and didn't know if I could do the trek. With the issue of the bad tyre at the back of my mind I wasn't sure that once traffic became lighter that the bus won't stop in Onitsha to finally change the tyre. Eventually, I decided to trek into Onitsha against advice I received of another passenger of how far from Onitsha we were. Some exercise shouldn't kill I thought, and the lack of cash didn't help my situation hence I picked my back pack and started my trek.

LUXURY BUSES AND HAULAGE TRUCKS HELD UP IN TRAFFIC INWARDS THE NIGER BRIDGE FROM ASABA.

It turned out to be a long one, and more people were now doing the trek. The reason for the traffic jam became clearer as I inched closer to the Niger Bridge, that connected South-eastern Nigeria, to the Niger Delta (South-South Nigeria) on that axis. I was informed that the day before, protesting members of the Indigenous People of Biafra, IPOB had blocked the bridge and brought commercial activities to a halt in Onitsha (commercial capital of Anambra State and the Southeast as a whole), demanding the release of their leader Nnamdi Kanu, currently detained by the Federal Government on charges of incitement, even Treason and Terrorism (for asking for self determination, and a sovereign state of Biafra from what is today the Eastern part of Nigeria, from the rest). A Joint Task Force of the police and members of the arms of the military were then stationed at the Asaba and Onitsha end of the Niger Bridge to screen vehicles entering and leaving Onitsha, in anticipation of the bigger protest planned for the day.

EVEN LIVESTOCK FEEL THE UNEASE DUE TO TRAFFIC BUILD-UP AT THE ASABA END OF THE NIGER BRIDGE.

Part of my itinerary was Anambra State, and I could simply go in there, do what I had to do and then go to Port Harcourt, but then I must finish everything that day and head for Port Harcourt the next to meet up with my appointment. I considered that if IPOB youths go on with their plan of a mega demonstration it might be difficult to get out of Onitsha to Port Harcourt even if I was able to conclude my business in time outside of Onitsha but within Anambra State. If however I go on to Port Harcourt, I would still get my much needed rest, make my appointment the next day, then enter Onitsha before careering into the rest of Anambra to fulfill my plans there, get some play time even clock some time in neighbouring Imo State before returning to base in Lagos, Southwest Nigeria. I decided while trekking, and now close to the Asaba end of the Niger Bridge to get money first, before deciding what to do next. I figured that my best bet will be to get to an ATM of the old generation bank branch that issued my debit card, so that if it doesn't work, I could go into the bank at eight o'clock and get the much I needed to continue my journey the traditional way, hopefully without making a scene for the embarrassment and discomfort their debit card had caused me the day before. It was then 7am.

'kovich