The Good Side of Karma

August 1968. Owerri

Bullets were flying pass us. We are the only remaining regiment in Owerri. It was taken some months back by the Federal army and we needed it back. Our white commander believed we can get it back. And we must.

I lay down and kept picking out targets. From my position, I can see figures falling. The more I fire, the more I remain careful. I don't have much ammunition. Just a dozen or so. I unintentionally shifted my head to the left. That very moment, a bullet flew pass and hit the soldier behind me. Private Nnamdi had just been recruited. This was his first battle. I wanted to weep but, remembering that this was war, I took a deep breath, crutching still, I carefully took his rifle and retrieved his ammunition. I really needed it.

I decided that that place wasn't a good firing position anymore. I looked around and moved away before I will be shot. Meanwhile, the firing was somehow reducing in frequency. I can sense a tactically retreat but I remained squatting. Anything can happen.

Still not satisfied with my new position, though I had entered a trench, I got out and made my way to a rundown shack by the roadside. It now resembles a goat shed. It had been shot at, bombed and ransacked. I simply walked into the shed, with all my senses alert.

As I came in, I felt a presence. Someone is here. I stopped, parring in the semi darkness and pointing my weapon meanly around. I was ready to shoot at anything, even a spirit.

"Please don't shoot!", a voice just came from nowhere, speaking in Hausa. I had lived most of my life in the North, so I understand and speak Hausa but I don't think the owner of the voice knew this or maybe he spoke out of fear.

The owner of the voice slowly came out from behind a cupboard I haven't seen. I faced him, with my riffle ready to send him to the other world.

The man who came out had serious tribal marks all over his face like he fought a tiger as a kid. He looked really frightened.

"Who are you?", I asked in Hausa, still stone faced. I noticed the surprise on his face. A smile wanted to spread on my face but I quickly countered it and kept my face stone faced.

I quickly took a look around. I don't want to be surprised by another soldier. It happens steady. Everything seems to be safe, for now I think.

"I'm Musa", he replied, still quivering like a leaf been hit by a strong wind.

"Please. Don't kill me. Just let me go. I won't return. Please," He suddenly reverted to English. I eyed him and gently brought down my riffle from his face. I heaved a sigh.

"Go."

Before I could finish, he scurried away. That was the last I saw of him. I just forgot him and quickly found a place to hide and continued the battle.