Through My Kitchen Window

I am reading author Chinua Achebe’s newest book titled, “There was a Country – a Personal History of Biafra” Chinua is a well respected writer and poet. Perhaps his best known work is “Things Fall Apart.”

Born in 1930, he and I have something in common. We were both born in the part of Nigeria once known as the Eastern Region which tried to secede and form the new nation of Biafra. Achebe was born in Ogidi and I was born in Joinkrama. Actually our birthplaces are not all that close. His was on the northern edge of the area that tried to become Biafra in what is today called the South Eastern State. I was born in the most southern region near the ocean in a wild, jungle area in the Niger River Delta which today is called The Rivers State. Joinkrama where I was born was once referred to as “The Back Side of Nowhere” by missionary Jo Scaggs in her book. Aunt Jo, as I called her when I knew her, served in Joinkrama a.k.a. “the backside of nowhere” with my parents and was a big help to my mother the year I was born.

Achebe writes, "Most members of my generation, who were born before Nigeria’s independence, remember a time when things were very different. Nigeria was once a land of great hope and progress, a nation with immense resources at its disposal—natural resources, yes, but even more so, human resources. But the Biafran war changed the course of Nigeria. In my view it was a cataclysmic experience that changed the history of Africa."

Well, to me personally it was a cataclysmic experience that changed my personal history. The war ripped me out of the country of my birth – my happy childhood homeland and set me squarely back on US soil. The first couple of years back I was so homesick for Nigeria and the friends I knew there. I was an extremely unhappy little girl.

But then as time went by, I became accustomed to my new home in America and even grew to love it. I had many friends and experiences in the years that followed which I treasure also. And when I look back on my life, I marvel at all the adventures God has allowed me to have. From tropical Africa where I happily played barefoot, chasing lizards and eating guavas straight from the trees to quintessential Americana where I had the privilege of being a high school cheerleader for a state championship football team – my experiences have been many and diverse and I marvel at the God who has led me all of my life.

Through my Kitchen Window

I read in the paper today that Ojukwu has passed away in a London Hospital at the age of 78. That name may mean nothing to you but the man changed my world.

In 1966, I was a little girl playing happily in the Nigerian town of Ogbomosho. I had trees to climb, sprawling yards of green grass to run in, pet monkeys and parrots to make me laugh, and friends I loved. But also in 1966, unbeknownst to me, this man – Chukwemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu declared the Eastern Region of Nigeria to be the new sovereign nation of Biafra. This part of Nigeria included the oil rich Niger River Delta, where I was born but it did not include Ogbomosho where I lived. This man’s declaration changed my world forever.

Thanks to this man, a civil war broke out in Nigeria and I had new experiences. I learned new words – like hate, war, fear, danger, death, and prejudice. Finally in 1968 when my parents left Nigeria, never to return, I learned the meaning of the terms separation, loss, and sadness. Isn’t it funny how one person’s life impacts another? I never knew this man and he never knew me but his life changed my life’s direction.

But as I think of this today, I am not sad. Why? Because My Lord was directing my steps all along, even through the experiences of war, loss, and separation. And I am reminded of some words from the prophet Isaiah. In Isaiah 6: 1 he writes, “In the year of King Uzziah’s death, I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, lofty and exalted, with the train of His robe filling the temple.”

What was Isaiah’s reaction to the uncertainty of political change around him? He saw the Lord, high and lifted up! May we keep our eyes on Him no matter what changes are occurring in our lives today!

Life as I Knew it

Prejudice - What does it mean?

“For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek; for the same Lord is Lord of all” Romans 10:12

Awudi came to live with us when I was about three months old. We lived in Joinkrama at the time. She was a new convert to Christianity. In choosing her Lord, Awudi truly gave up everything.

Before becoming a Christian, she was married with three young children. But when she accepted Jesus as her savior, her husband issued an ultimatum. She had to either renounce her faith or he would divorce her. In those days, a Nigerian woman gave up everything if she divorced. There were no divorce courts or lawyers to help her - women held no power or authority. Her husband simply declared them divorced and sent her away. Because Awudi would not renounce her faith, she lost everything. She lost her home, her husband, her children, and she was never allowed to return again. She was banished!

And so she came to live with us. While both of my parents worked at the hospital, Awudi stayed at our home with the children. She was like a second mother to me. All of my first memories are filled with Awodi’s presence. She bathed me and my siblings, dressed us, fed us, and loved on us. For her part, she was happy to be around children again. It made the loss of her children a little easier to bear. She poured her love on all of us, but she had a special place in her heart for me, because I was a newborn when she came to our family. She called me her baby. When I grew, she changed it to “big baby”. I can still hear her saying in her broken (or Pigeon) English, “You ah ma Beeg Bebe!”

After a few years in Joinkrama, the mission moved my family, first to Oyo for language school and after that to Ogbomosho. Most of my childhood was spent in Ogbomosho.

When I was ten, the Biafran war broke out. This was a difficult time for everyone in Nigeria. The Eastern part of Nigeria where Joinkrama was waged war against the rest of the country in a futile attempt to gain its independence. At its core, it was a tribal war. The Igbo tribe living in the East was at odds with the other tribes. The conflict hit home at our house because Awudi was Inguini (a small tribe which was closely related to the Igbos and supportive of their cause). At the time we lived in Ogbomosho which was Yoruba land (where the Yoruba tribe lived).

Fearing for Awudi’s life, my parents arranged for her to travel back to her region(the part that was trying to become Biafra). This was a wise and gracious move on the part of my parents and God blessed it. Awudi made a safe journey back and lived many more years among her own people. But it was devastating to me!

I could not understand it! My parents tried to explain to me that Awudi would be in danger if she remained among the Yorubas. They tried their best to help me understand the term prejudice. But I had never experienced it before and just could not wrap my brain around the idea that someone might harm another just because of the tribe he belonged to (or the color of his skin, or all the other equally absurd reasons people have for hating one another). I begged my parents to let Awudi stay! She was the embodiment of love to me and I simply could not understand why anyone would want to hurt her.

You know, to this day I do not fully understand prejudice. I was a white minority child in an African world and knew only love from those around me. To this day, I do not fully understand how people can hate others they do not know. I hope I never outgrow this aspect of my childhood.