Uncle Sunday Onwuka, was a promising young man of seventeen when the war broke out. The genocidal Nigerian army murdered him in cold blood. He was such a loving personality the survivors of the war passed his story down to my generation. Listening to the stories told about him I have always broken down in tears.
My tears are prompted not just by the sad loss, but also by the realization that many other promising young men went the same way. These are people that would have bridged the gap between us and the older generation, thereby occasioning a smooth transfer of knowledge and wisdom. But the devilish Nigeria state would not allow that.
Sunday was said to be so lively in discussions; so urbane, full of wisdom and witty enough to have excelled in today’s comedy industry. He was said to be so athletically built and sparkling in appearance that he was easily noticed wherever he entered.
Sunday’s fate came one cursed evening in 1969. The war was nearing its end but the vandals (Nigerian genocidal army) was still loitering about, seeking young girls to defile. The few youths that were still alive had gathered together to take in fresh air and relieve selves of the agony of the war with some folklore. The murderous Nigerian soldiers arrived, and offended that such an urbane young adult was still around, they seized Sunday, tied his hands behind him and carried him off. That spelt the end of Sunday; his corpse was not even found.
Yet, some people say we shouldn’t remember Sunday and the millions like him come 30th May. Are they in their right senses? Biafrans have chosen May 30 of every year to mourn and honour the victims of the war. We have chosen to sit back at home, denying ourselves of every social and economic activity in remembrance of every Biafran soul lost in that genocidal war visited upon us. We do so not by compulsion but by freewill, so the Nigerian police and army threating to stop us need urgent psychiatric attention. Sincerely.
Chibuike John Nebeokike
For: Radio Biafra Media