It’s almost two weeks now, Yeah, two weeks since I ran away. Ran away, I said not desert. I ran for my dear life. I had left the warfront, the warzone, war state and probably the military as a whole. I am not a coward, I just grew wiser. Wise enough to realize I had to opt out before my blood was spilled in a cause I know nothing of. If I had to die today, my family would be less grieved; at least I had not died from a bullet wound or an explosion or being slaughtered by those animals. They would know I died by a natural cause and they would not have to receive any blood money for my departure. How on earth are they going to spend that anyway? I became wise to realize being a soldier in a country like ours was just like being a helpless lamb, sacrificed for no reason.

We had won the war or should I say completed the task given to us but the authority didn’t see any casualty so they weren’t satisfied. They wanted to go back. For the love of God, why are they being so callous! I dropped my kits and submitted my rifle with the excuse of going to solve some administrative problems and bowed out without anyone knowing my plan. I was in alone and just in case I got caught, I wanted face the judgment alone, their court martial as usual. It took me almost a week to finally arrive at my father’s house, where it felt like home and to be sane again. In the first seven days after the war, I couldn’t sleep. I had blood on my hands and each time I tried closing my eyes, I had nightmares about the people I had killed. I saw dead innocent children sprawled about like rats. And then the most terrifying image of all; the man I had killed, the man I had shot between his eyes. He had looked at me for a few seconds and the eyes were cold and scared. One thing I knew was, those eyes would haunt me forever. I tried to watch movies all day and night to exorcise my mind from the evil I was going through, it helped a little.

I had long chats with my girlfriend. That helped too, then I could at least get an hour of sleep dreaming about her before the break of dawn then I had to get up to observe my prayers. I became closer to God not that I wasn’t before but the whole military, hindered some things, and those things I was ready to pay back. Dad made sure I was fine and didn’t lack anything. He bought fruits and drug supplement to get me back hale and hearty. Mum never stopped calling every minute, to bury my sorrow with her stories about the weather, her job, and her experience in the United States. She was miles away and I missed that. I had spoken to little sister just once but she would be home by the end of the month, for her mid-term break, I can’t wait. And my bro? We chat like shit; we talk over the phone sometimes too. He is basically my new best friend.
Being a soldier in this country is so degrading and we are treated like crap or should I say they are treated like crap because I’m not sure I’m going back until everything changes for good. It pains me so much that my heart bleeds when I lose a colleague. People lose their lives because of the incompetency of the government on this issue. This is a terrorist-war o.k. insurgency not an inter-country war. These guys are inside your country for goodness sake. In a country of more than 190 million people, then few pieces of crap not up to half a million have been threatening your lives for more than 5 years. I am sorry to say we don’t deserve to have a military or even be called a country. Those bastards have killed more than five thousand soldiers and we can’t still wipe out their existence? There must be something wrong. If it isn’t the authority funding and supporting these terrorists, I don’t see why we can’t curb them.

I thought this book was going to have a happy ending but I doubt it because the last chapter before this was meant to be the last and I have decided not to open it again and let those lies they tell the world as stories on TV and in the papers about the warfront just filter through. I didn’t want to hear them talk again because this was becoming a puppet show and those guys up there are the string pullers, and the soldiers, the puppets.

At about about 1616 hours today, I got a call from a friend, a soldier who thinks he could go on fighting the war. He told me a soldier and an officer are dead and one other soldier severely injured. An officer, Flying officer Toryem of the Nigerian Air force and Seaman Amaseimogha Alexander of the Nigerian Navy were both dead. Both of them served diligently during their life time. Alexander especially had a close relationship with me. Apart from being roommates at the FOB, Abuja for almost 4 months, he was skating friend and teacher. He taught me how to skate back then in Belarus during our training as Special Forces. He helped me buy my first pair of skating shoes. He was an intelligent chap who showed lovely view about religion and politics. And the officer, Toryem, he was a young chap, a fine officer. We were both under the Nigerian Air force before his demise. The injured soldier, Private Khalid, I can’t believe it though. He use to be my close pal during those few weeks of advance. We were both on the engineering team and because of our age bracket; we did things together and talked about after war. I heard he got a 12.8mm bullet to his chest, damn that stuff is meant for felling trees not humans. I hope he gets better anyway.

For those who lost their lives, I hope it wouldn’t be in vain. We keep shouting ‘May 29th, Buhari would take over’ but I ask myself ‘how many more brothers would I lose?’ How many more have to die for the lost cause. I bade you adieu Alexander and Fg Offr Toryem. I hope you have found peace. May God grant you mercy. In heaven hold the gates firm during your sentry duties for we are coming to relieve you.

1716hours
22ndMay, 2015

(An excerpt from ‘Zero Alpha: my journey in search of peace’ (yet to be published))

Memecasper:
It’s almost two weeks now, Yeah, two weeks since I ran away. Ran away, I said not desert. I ran for my dear life. I had left the warfront, the warzone, war state and probably the military as a whole. I am not a coward, I just grew wiser. Wise enough to realize I had to opt out before my blood was spilled in a cause I know nothing of. If I had to die today, my family would be less grieved; at least I had not died from a bullet wound or an explosion or being slaughtered by those animals. They would know I died by a natural cause and they would not have to receive any blood money for my departure. How on earth are they going to spend that anyway? I became wise to realize being a soldier in a country like ours was just like being a helpless lamb, sacrificed for no reason.

We had won the war or should I say completed the task given to us but the authority didn’t see any casualty so they weren’t satisfied. They wanted to go back. For the love of God, why are they being so callous! I dropped my kits and submitted my rifle with the excuse of going to solve some administrative problems and bowed out without anyone knowing my plan. I was in alone and just in case I got caught, I wanted face the judgment alone, their court martial as usual. It took me almost a week to finally arrive at my father’s house, where it felt like home and to be sane again. In the first seven days after the war, I couldn’t sleep. I had blood on my hands and each time I tried closing my eyes, I had nightmares about the people I had killed. I saw dead innocent children sprawled about like rats. And then the most terrifying image of all; the man I had killed, the man I had shot between his eyes. He had looked at me for a few seconds and the eyes were cold and scared. One thing I knew was, those eyes would haunt me forever. I tried to watch movies all day and night to exorcise my mind from the evil I was going through, it helped a little.

I had long chats with my girlfriend. That helped too, then I could at least get an hour of sleep dreaming about her before the break of dawn then I had to get up to observe my prayers. I became closer to God not that I wasn’t before but the whole military, hindered some things, and those things I was ready to pay back. Dad made sure I was fine and didn’t lack anything. He bought fruits and drug supplement to get me back hale and hearty. Mum never stopped calling every minute, to bury my sorrow with her stories about the weather, her job, and her experience in the United States. She was miles away and I missed that. I had spoken to little sister just once but she would be home by the end of the month, for her mid-term break, I can’t wait. And my bro? We chat like shit; we talk over the phone sometimes too. He is basically my new best friend.
Being a soldier in this country is so degrading and we are treated like crap or should I say they are treated like crap because I’m not sure I’m going back until everything changes for good. It pains me so much that my heart bleeds when I lose a colleague. People lose their lives because of the incompetency of the government on this issue. This is a terrorist-war o.k. insurgency not an inter-country war. These guys are inside your country for goodness sake. In a country of more than 190 million people, then few pieces of crap not up to half a million have been threatening your lives for more than 5 years. I am sorry to say we don’t deserve to have a military or even be called a country. Those bastards have killed more than five thousand soldiers and we can’t still wipe out their existence? There must be something wrong. If it isn’t the authority funding and supporting these terrorists, I don’t see why we can’t curb them.

I thought this book was going to have a happy ending but I doubt it because the last chapter before this was meant to be the last and I have decided not to open it again and let those lies they tell the world as stories on TV and in the papers about the warfront just filter through. I didn’t want to hear them talk again because this was becoming a puppet show and those guys up there are the string pullers, and the soldiers, the puppets.

At about about 1616 hours today, I got a call from a friend, a soldier who thinks he could go on fighting the war. He told me a soldier and an officer are dead and one other soldier severely injured. An officer, Flying officer Toryem of the Nigerian Air force and Seaman Amaseimogha Alexander of the Nigerian Navy were both dead. Both of them served diligently during their life time. Alexander especially had a close relationship with me. Apart from being roommates at the FOB, Abuja for almost 4 months, he was skating friend and teacher. He taught me how to skate back then in Belarus during our training as Special Forces. He helped me buy my first pair of skating shoes. He was an intelligent chap who showed lovely view about religion and politics. And the officer, Toryem, he was a young chap, a fine officer. We were both under the Nigerian Air force before his demise. The injured soldier, Private Khalid, I can’t believe it though. He use to be my close pal during those few weeks of advance. We were both on the engineering team and because of our age bracket; we did things together and talked about after war. I heard he got a 12.8mm bullet to his chest, damn that stuff is meant for felling trees not humans. I hope he gets better anyway.

For those who lost their lives, I hope it wouldn’t be in vain. We keep shouting ‘May 29th, Buhari would take over’ but I ask myself ‘how many more brothers would I lose?’ How many more have to die for the lost cause. I bade you adieu Alexander and Fg Offr Toryem. I hope you have found peace. May God grant you mercy. In heaven hold the gates firm during your sentry duties for we are coming to relieve you.

1716hours
22ndMay, 2015

(An excerpt from ‘Zero Alpha: my journey in search of peace’ (yet to be published))

Touching story! may God provide you with a better Job. Amen.

Gwazah:

Touching story! may God provide you with a better Job. Amen.

.

It's a good job actually. It's just the country and people controlling it that makes it look dumb

Memecasper:
.

It's a good job actually. It's just the country and people controlling it that makes it look dumb

U are right my brother.