Turbulent Thrills (Part I)
Destiny, determination or dreams, whichever you believe, they are all fueled by a nightmare. One of which you’ll never understand, yet turns you to an understudy for your future. As a child, I fell in love with flight. I was never sure why I liked the idea of flying so much, but there are some things in life that sit in your family’s roots that subconsciously tell your story, shaping your desires and your fears along the way; war is a great storyteller.
My nightmare began long before I was born, in Owerri the capital of Imo state in the Eastern Region of Nigeria. I give you these details not to bore you but to teach you. The war started July 6th 1967 as the Republic of Biafra pushed back against the Northern Nigeria Federal government. It’s not surprising, oil was the cause of all these casualties. For two-and-a half years, my mother’s people died from starvation and fighter Jets. She was only seventeen at the time the famine hit her village. She would always say to me:
“ọ bụ egwu, ụmụ na nna, nne na ụmụ nwanyị na obodo ha.”
Translation: (It was terrible, sons and fathers, moms and daughters versus their own country.)
- Tobi Ogude