Chapter 3 THE FIRST COUP D'ETAT

The serenity of Uselu was gradually regaining strength. The garment of festivity had worn out. Benin in fête was a place to be, so much bliss being passed around and the nights would be no different from the day.

Last Christmas was our first of its kind in a long time, more or less never, except for Nna and Nne. There was enough to eat, plenty to give out, surplus in stock, nothing was a waste. New Year eve was the first time I stayed late night away from home, the city was busy, and no idle leg on the streets, we all had something to do. I intended to go to church and hear father Mbaka's sermon after a long while, but I met some old school mates of mine, on the road who were off to a party. I joined them and skewed off church, after all, Nna and Nne weren't there to prison me.

Igbane didn't get to catch much fun, not when Nne was on his neck. He had his school cert to prepare for, just months down the year. He didn't miss much though, not that we had any more fun. Ndidi had the best of the holidays, she used the excuse of her learning how to bake in Nne's friend shop to go visit her man friend. She was young and in love, I doubted if she knew the realities of love. She dared not ask Nne about what it meant. It was a taboo to even think it. I one time overhead her and her friend talking sex, she had no idea what it was, they both were novice. If talking about love was a taboo imagine what the mere mentioning of the word sex would be, not to talk of asking its modalities. That would be the taboo of the taboos.

Not long after I had backed the door against Nne and Igbane on their way out, the knock on the door brought me back. I opened and saw the two gentlemen that came by the other day asking for Nna's where about. This time, I was very sure they were government officials. I saw the inscription on their car parked outside.

"Good day young man, is your father in?" he spoke with confidence, and in low drone.

I looked back as if to confirm if he was home knowing well he was. "Who should I tell him is asking after him?"

"Tell him government officials from the office of custom and excise duties. We are here in representation of the director himself." He grinned feeling proud of his bantam accolade.

You should have seen the speed in which Nna stood up from bed to get dressed.

"What are you still standing there for? Let them come in and wait for me in the sitting room."

I ushered them in thinking to myself all things must be falling in place for Nna. It was no trifling gesture to play host to top government officials. It didn't take long; they sat down after Nna came out looking cheerful and offered them a seat. I walked away but stood within hearing distance.

"You're welcome Mr-" Nna stretched his hand offering a hand shake.

"Mr. Shehu," they exchanged pleasantries. He looked at the other who introduced himself as Mr. Hakim.

"It's an honor to be visited, what do I offer you?"

"Nothing," the taller one said pleasantly. They were both on kaftan, had same tribal mark though handsome in looks, and the fine fabrics well poised and firm which sent a message.

"Ok then," Nna said, "I guess it's straight to business." He let out an enforced smile. "So?"

"We've been hearing of your exploits Mr. Okafor and we at the government house appreciate you," pride was all over Nna's face as the man spoke on. "What we're most surprised about is how from nothing you got the job and proved everyone wrong."

"Well what can I say, it's all God," Nna said proudly.

I was surprised Nna mentioned God. He never believed in miracles, he wasn't a Godly man. He wasn't even a regular Sunday Christian. He only frequently went to church these days because he had fine wrappers and fabrics to show off. I guess him claiming it was all God was one of those things people said for saying sake.

"Mr. Okafor," the shorter but seemingly more prudent one began. "Here," handing Nna a file. I strained my eye to see what was written on it, but it was impossible. All I knew was that it had the government logo for shipping on it. Nna smile was growing faint by the seconds as he cautiously tore apart the file, piece by piece. He cast a stern look at them then back to the file, he turned the back of the file to steal a grim glance at the logo then with a sigh handed it back to them.

"I'm sorry but I can't," he told them in an echo of resolution.

They both smiled. Maybe he sounded funny or they assumed he was pulling their legs, but whichever, I knew Nna meant what he said. I couldn't put together what he was refusing at the time; I was too focused not to miss a line of their conversation.

"Mr. Okafor, I understand what you mean. If you want us to increase your share then I'll pass the message across and we will look into it."

"That will be so generous," he offered a feigned smile, "but no. You can look into it all you want, I won't change my mind."

"Thank you Mr. Okafor for your time," the shorter one stood up to shake Nna, precluding his colleague from saying further. "It's a pleasure talking with you, and we hope to hear from you again."

"With a change of heart," retorted his partner sarcastically.

Nna said nothing but shook hands and they left. He looked round the parlor and saw nobody, satisfied, he went into his room. He had his reasons for turning down whatever was been offered, that I was sure of. Nna had always been careful, he still is, and sometimes we thought he was too paranoid, but his paranoia in most cases had helped us out of trouble, or prevented it. It had something to do with his job, I couldn't be mistaken. Few months after a miracle job comes from someone of high rank in the government, he gets a visit from the government; it had to be connected. I looked towards his room and back to where they had sat as if to find something missing, "they would be back" I told myself reassuringly, "and then, I would put on my detective armor".

_________________

Days past and nobody came to hold another meeting with Nna. From time to time I'd rush to the window to peep on who was at the gate at the sound of every knock, but at every glance, the detective in me was waning.

Mondays meant the start of a new week, the start of a new stress. I woke up lethargic as usual, the drops of sleep lingering around my eye as Nne shouted my name. On realizing it was her who had called my name, I shook of the slothfulness in me.

"Yes Nne," I answered, picking up my steps as I made my way to the living room. "Good morning Ma."

"I wonder what is good in the morning. All your mates are at their stores hoping today will be a good sale, and you are here. Good morning to you too," she replied sarcastically. "I'm leaving for the market. Your food is in the pot on the stove."

"Ok Ma."

She turned to leave but after two steps, swiveled to stare at me then went out. I wondered what her short gaze meant, whatever it was, I didn't care. I took the time to think about the girl from the post office, there was something about her that kept thoughts of her glued to mine, something in her beauty that imprisoned my eyes. A fair svelte of middling stature, not too long her tresses but fine and plaint to the wind, she had a black pimple like spot on the upper left side of her face, an emblem of her beauty, but it's no compare to the distributed marks on Mama Rotimi's face, a face that looks like it was rescued from the teeth of an hungry lion. I needed to see her again, it was the only way I could stop her from invading my thoughts.

I was dishing the food from the pot into my plate when Baba Rotimi dashed in through the gate yelling 'Run'. I peered through the glass to see what was going on. He ran the fastest anyone had ever seen him run, but looking back and front, no one was chasing him or otherwise. 'Must be from his village' I cackled.

The morning was beginning to decline; I ate my food while occupied in thoughts. My appetite to gain admission into the University of Ibadan has amplified, ever since the moment I knew the girl at the post office was applying to the same place. I wanted to be where she was, gain acquaintance, and above all spend the rest of my life with her, yet I fear it would mean overcrowding her. She would want to gain her personal experience, meet different guys, and always hanging out with me wouldn't afford her all that. I don't care, we are allowed to be greedy every once in a while. After all, isn't true love sometimes greedy?

I heard a big bang on the gate, I went to check and it was Nna and Ndidi, hastily making their way to the house. Nna never ran, not for anything. This was a cause for worry. He entered the house panting, his grip still on Ndidi. "What could she have done wrong? Or had her secret relationship with her man friend being discovered?"

"Where is your mother?" Nna demanded, still battling with his breath.

"She said she was going to the market" I replied absorbedly.

"And she haven't returned?" he asked angrily, I couldn't tell if he was upset with me or Nne. "What about Igbane?"

"Still at school," I answered increasingly uptight.

"Nna what is it, why are you back from work early?" I moved my eyes to my sister who seemed to be mildly unaware of what was happening.

"Two of you sit inside and lock the door until I get back with your mother and your brother." He took off not even answering my question. I waited till his shadow was behind the door then I turned to Ndidi who now looked more startled than I.

"What is going on?"

"I wish I knew. He just came and dragged me out of the shop without any explanation."

"Or has he..."

My thought were half complete when Nna and Nne dashed in, holding Igbane snugly as if he was about to be stolen from them. He jammed the door, went into his room and came out with his radio, the black static one in his room. He turned it on, kept tuning, but there was no signal. He swiveled to Nne.

"How did you hear of it?"

"There was a strong rumor in the market, and then Mama Ose whose brother is a soldier came to tell us it was true. Everybody scattered, I went to his school to get him, and then we met you at the gate." She began examining Igbane like something had happened to him.

"There's nothing yet on the radio, let's wait."

We all sat round the dining table, listening to the scrambled harshness from the radio set, wondering what was happening.

_________________

Two days after, the city was quiet. The announcement of the coup d'état had led to self-imposed lock down, for the talks of a military retaliation crept into the heart of many, but those were the many ignorant who didn't get full details of the coup. Everybody was scared; it was the first time such had happened in Nigeria.

The broadcast Kaduna Nzeogwu made later that day wasn't heavy with information; rather it was the rumors which gained strength that told us more. It was difficult which to believe, but Nna always said there was an element of truth in every rumor. What we knew was that the prime minister, some big politicians and many senior army officers had been killed. The top men had lost to the coup, and some their wives too. The plotters were thorough, leaving no stone unturned, eliminating every form of possible threat. There would be no retaliation, at least not anytime soon.

On the third day after the dreaded broadcast, few people were beginning to gain their feet, but not too far.

The knock on the door came as a surprise to everyone, it sounded the second and third time before Nna, whose ears were locked to the receiver gestured I open. It was Mama Ose.

"Is your mother in?" she asked. "O! Look at me, where else can she be?" jovially answering her own question, then entered. "Good morning Mr. Okafor."

Nna greeted back without looking, his ears still fastened to the radio box. Maybe if his ears were as big as mine there'd be no need for that.

Nne rushed out on hearing her friends' voice.

"Nne is that you?" she was used to calling everybody Nne. It was either she missed speaking her language or she missed grandma.

"It's me o," Mama Ose retorted with humor.

"And here I was thinking you wouldn't come to gist me."

"Like I would miss that for anything!" she exclaimed as they sat.

Nna casted a look of disdain, they didn't see it but I did, it was easy to read his mind.

"Ikenna," he called. I could tell his intention for calling me at such moment. "Go and get me water to drink."

"Yes Nna."

On my way up, I heard Nne reiterate "So you mean Ironsi, an Igbo man has taken over!" she sighed.

"Then the rumors could well be true."

I hurried back with a glass of water, but he was in no hurry to drink it. The distorted frequency on his receiver was impeding my hearing.

"Take," he finally handed me the glass. "Check on Igbane to see if he needs your help with his mock questions." He was buying time, but the women wouldn't stop. I obeyed and hurried back.

"Igbane is asleep. I'll assist him when he is awake." I went back to sit in the parlor to listen to the gossip from the dining. "I see," he replied in a disappointing tone.

"And to think all this happened when the president wasn't around," Nne said thoughtfully.

"Some say it might have been a plan, but again nobody knows."

"They might be rumors, but there is always an element of truth in every rumor."

"Well, let us wait and see what the military government would do, since they claimed they took over because the men who ruled us were aground with corruption."

"Let's also hope no further bloodshed O!" Nne clapped her hand, an indication of prayers answered.

"What can be bloody aside this?"

Nne wanted to give an answered but nothing came out from her mouth. She sighed. "The good thing is that Benin is a mid-western minority, therefore, we're free from blood lust hands."

"Is that what you think? So you believe a man who fought for power would not fight to keep it, or that he would fold his arm when someone else would try to take it from him? You might want to think again.

"You think so?" Nne asked with a sudden consciousness to what Mama Ose just said.

"Do you know one of the things that Major Nzeogwu did?" Nne shook her head. "After a sergeant had helped him in gaining access into the Saraduna's lodge and killing them all, he murdered the said sergeant."

"Eweeeee!!" Nne exclaimed.

"Woman keep quiet there," Nna barked at her, it was then I realized he had turned off the radio. "And you," he turned to Mama Ose, "how do you know all this? Them say them say who say?"

"My brother is in the-"

Nna interrupted her.

"Was he at the fore front of the whole thing?" she seemed confused. "He is here in Benin, but knows everything that happened in Kaduna and Lagos, even Ibadan." He stood to his feet wanting to leave. "Quite a soldier he is." He left for his room.

_________________

Six months went by and the talk of the coup was still fresh in the hearts of many. The year was moving fast, everyone was, but the rumors of a northern retaliation coup weren't. It was slowly eating up the discussions of people in gatherings, especially those who had siblings in the states where the federal military had more hold.

Most worried were my Igbo brothers, apprehensive about their towns' siblings and kindred's scattered across the nations. The rumor going round was that the federal government wasn't pleased with the fast growing country men whose exploit were increasing at a fast pace. It makes me wonder why our progress perturbed others, were we all not one? Or at least that is what we've been made to believe since inception.

Nna was somewhat in-deferent. It was hard to tell if his hate was as a result of his dislike for his kinsmen which has protracted to all Igbo's, or that he was still angry with Nnamdi Azikwe who was part of those who fought for independence, an independence that was based on greed. Nna wasn't pleased that an Igbo man was that greedy yet applauded for being part of our heroes. Nna could see through the greed and the whole lot of the country couldn't or probably they didn't want to.

"There was no genuine reason for independence," he would argue. "It was based on greed of those who claimed to have fought for us," he would say with much verve. "Now that the British are gone, what have we achieved? Nothing," answering his question as others ponders on it, beginning to see sense in it. His point was well proven when the former president Azikwe said: "Nigeria was given her freedom on a platter of gold. We should have known that freedom should be won not given on a plate."

Nna was listening to Ironsi give a speech through his scrambled radio. I was beside him, being he always insisted I apprise myself about the affairs of the nation, so as not to be ignorant. The frequency wasn't clear, but we listened anyways. Nne came in carrying a tray of Nna's food, and heard him mumbling words over Ironsi's speech.

"You better stop saying what you're saying before someone else would hear you," Nne warned. "Do you want to get us killed? Or do you not know the wall have ears?" Nne knew what he was saying, it's implication. She knew him too well, maybe too well that at times before he speaks; she has already said what he intends saying.

So you think I am afraid to speak my mind? Whoever has ear let him hear?"

"How can you even hope such evil against your own kinsmen? Don't you know we might be affected too? Please o, don't get me into trouble. If you want to, fine, but leave me and my children out of this." She looked at me sited with humility beside Nna. "Oya," she gestured. "Get inside."

I stood up, determined to run out of the room giving the opportunity before Nna raised his voice.

"Bia nwoke! Sit down there, where do you think you're going to?"

I sat down with utmost modesty, and feigned ignorance, so as not to be the subject of disagreement. He looked at Nne, "don't get me upset this night. You have given me food, you can leave."

"Leave kwa! Leave kwa! So tomorrow morning we will be woken by the harshness of koboko when they come to arrest you. God forbid!"

"Since they are your kindred's why would they use koboko on you? Don't be deceived my dear, they are no better than the northerners."

"Are they not your brothers too?" Nne shot back.

"Tai!" Nna exclaimed. "God forbid." He imagined the meaning of her words and shouted God forbid again, and then spat air into the wind so its emptiness can blow upon their faces. "I've long disowned and abandoned the Igbo race. If it's not my immediate family, I'm not interested."

"Doesn't change the fact that we are a united front, a united race, a united peo-"

"People my foot," Nna completed her sentence for her. Why do you think the British handed power to the north? It's because they had and still have a united authority. But we, every community has more than one authority, and every one of them posing like a god," he mimicked them. He turned away as if reasoning the words to say next, "Don't you think its funny how the west and the east claim the northerners are fools but on the contrary we are the fools. We're the ones who fight each other, plot against our own brothers and even worst."

"I am saying my own. Don't let your mouth put us inside trouble."

"Your leaders put you in trouble when they asked the British to let them walk when they were not ready, and now, they haven't stood ever since then.

"I hear you Mr. Analyst, keep your thoughts to yourself," she turned towards me, "and you, your food is in the kitchen, when your ears are full, you can go and eat," she walked away, ignoring Nna's final words.

"1950, when the British had begun to accept the inevitability of independence, you think they were foolish when their government officers began to retire? No. They clearly had a well thought out exist blueprint, including handover plans long before we noticed," Nna was saying as she walked.

She walked on not caring what her husband was saying; neither did she bother that I was sited beside him, as his listening captive. I think for the first time he made sense, Nigeria as a country wasn't ripe for independence but greed made them fight for it, and now that they have it, they are paying the price.

_________________

Igbane was growing into a fine man, and probably a fine soldier too, at least that was what Nna felt and said, against Nne's wish. He was young and agile, unlike me, burly but lazy. Sometimes I got jealous of him, the attention he gets from Nna and Nne were overwhelming and was no compare to the kind of treatment I received, neither was it close to what Ndidi got.

Nne didn't like seeing him spend time discussing with Nna. She believes his stories and advice were no good, instead, they corrupted his mind, and now he was beginning to talk of joining the Mid-West Democratic Front after his school cert. Nne didn't like the idea he was beginning to develop of becoming a politician or joining the army.

Nne was at the kitchen preparing diner, I, Ndidi and Igbane were laughing over what had happened at his school earlier. There was no electricity. The only light was from the two lanterns, one in the kitchen and one with Nna in his room, doing whatever he was doing.

He came out, and a bit of hope glowed around the room. We all suddenly stopped laughing, he couldn't see our faces. We had a certain kind of fear and respect for Nna, he doesn't say much, but his presence brought distress, unlike Nne. His name and merely thoughts of him was dreadful, and we feared him more in his absence than when he was present. That is how to show true respect.

He sat on the chair and folded his wrapper in between his leg. He noticed our sudden silence; he always does, but never asks why.

"Stupid people," he hissed. "Never light at the right time."

Him hissing at us was something we at all cost tried to avoid, but was close to impossible. Sometimes he probably hissed more because he talked less. I remembered years back, when Igbane was still a toddler, I didn't know what Ndidi had done wrong, but when I came outside to go help Nne Buy garri, I met him hissing at her. I returned few minutes later and there she was, still at his front, hissing at her. He kept on repeating "you're a very stupid girl," followed by a long unstressed hiss. That story was something we always laughed over, and we planned for our children to laugh over it too.

"Igbane," he finally called. Igbane went and sat beside him. Nna had reduced the brightness of the lamp, so we could only hear the firmness of his voice and not see the look on his face.

"This country," Igbane started, "needs people to serve selflessly, or our tomorrow will be our past. I, Igbane Okafor, I'm one of the selfless individual that wants to volunteer to serve."

"You've spoken like a true son of your father," Nna said in a proud tone. At that point, I wondered who Nna was referring to. I and Ndidi automatically assumed he was referring to Mr. Ugochukwu, Igbane's biological father. It had to be. Who else?

"There needs to be change. The country is deteriorating; we are eating our future in our past."

"That is true. It's a pity our leaders can't see this."

"Actually I think they're seeing it but just don't care. That's why I must join to create a change."

Nna nodded his head and thought about it briefly.

"But considering your mother doesn't want you to get yourself involved in politics or the military, what next?"

Igbane sneered disobediently. "Nna, that one is her own, me I'll be what I want to be, and do what I feel is right."

Nna laughed feeling vindicated. "And she thinks I'm the one telling you what to do," He laughed again. "She needs to hear you for herself."

Nne came out of the kitchen seemingly upset. "Ndidi," she yelled. We needed no lantern to tell the anger all over her face, her tone told it all. Ndidi stood up carefully, knowing her wrong. She should be in the kitchen with Nne, it was her job to, so that her husband won't bring her back and say we didn't teach her well.

"Haven't I told you that anytime I'm in the kitchen you must be here with me? Haven't I?" Nne scolded.

"I'm sorry ma," Ndidi said quietly.

"To the kitchen," Nne pointed. She waited till Ndidi entered then cast her eyes about the room.

"Di," she called out starting towards them. "You have started again. I've told you to stop filling this boy's ear with nonsense." She turned to Igbane, "Oya get up."

"Mummy, I-

Nne dragged him up like he was still a toddler before he could complete his statement.

"You better consider what you want to say before you open your mouth," he kept quiet. "Oya join your sister in the kitchen." She stood in front of Nna who kept laughing.

"What's funny?"

"You wouldn't even let the boy speak."

"You said it yourself. He's a boy, my boy, and I won't let you talk him into becoming a man who wears khaki every day of his life."

"I thought that was his choice to make?"

"Your choice you mean?" Nne retorted.

"You think so? Well, let him speak then."

"You fathers are all the same; you like to dictate what your children would be. Because you couldn't achieve your goals so you enforce them on your children. Not my Igbane," she gestured. "You still have age on your side, I'll advice you go back to live the life you dreamed." She hissed and went into the kitchen.

Nna turned towards me and said "women," he sighed and laid his leg on the table. He knew Nne had a point, points actually, but he was a typical African father, he'd never agree.