By Bisi Lawrence
We must write and continue writing about “the labours of our heroes past”. Else,they will be forgotten very soon. Even right now, the heroic deeds in our nation-building efforts are subverted even while they are being performed.

The heroes of my youth followed the path of grace and honour. Some of them had made a name before their subsequent deeds proclaimed their patriotism. The example of Nnamdi Azikiwe who became the first President of the Federal Republic of Nigeria is easy to cite.

But that was long before he had published that great work, “Renascent Africa”, founded and edited the historic “West African Pilot”, and further lent his name to the first nationalist movement in Nigeria, “The Zikist Movement”. Of course, there are not many like him whose claim to heroism was multifaceted, jutting into diverse chapters of our national life.

Once Azikiwe’s name is mentioned, it is customary to pair it, in the next breath, with that of Obafemi Awolowo, first Premier of the old Western Region. Awo actually emerged on the heels of Zik, as a hero of another mould who earned his spurs through a dissimilar process. He was really there with Zik at the beginning. It is one of the circumstances of our political history that Awolowo was Azikiwe’s assistant when Zik was the scribe of the Nigerian Youth Movement at the dawn of our nationalistic awakening. The story of their interaction must wait for another day. However, Zik’s acclaim as a hero especially among his own people, the Igbos from where it should naturally start, was inhibited by their traditional trait of the republican spirit which, on the other hand, never had any strong roots among the Yoruba, thanks to the age-old system of monarchy in their own society.

Other heroes have come and gone without the credit of the due celebration of their noble deeds. You may never have heard of a man called “Marshall” Kebbi. He was one of my heroes when I was young. He was neither wealthy nor well-learned, neither a millionaire nor a high-ranking military officer. He was a man on the fringes of the journalistic profession who loved his country with an over-riding passion and dared to suffer because of his love. Today, he belongs to that group of the unknown, unsung corps of dedicated nationalists whom fame shunned and honours neglected.

There were not many groups of such patriots some six to seven decades ago. Those who are still alive, and they are very few, must be wondering today if it was all worth the effort— all the turbulence and the turmoil, all the sacrifice and stress, and “all that glee at high noon”.

Marshall Kebby belonged to the Zikist Movement which was named for the man who, in those days, was like a beacon in the darkness of colonial rule.

They proclaimed him as their mentor and drank deep of his cup of bubbly rhetoric. And the more they imbibed, the more their thirst was sharpened for more zestful, more meaningful action. Eventually, unable to wait for their leaders, they took the lead themselves with all the vigour and brashness of youth.

In broad daylight, they called for a revolution against British rule in Nigeria. They perpetrated this brave but brazen action at an open lecture in the heart of Lagos, then the Capital of the colonial territory of Nigeria. And for their pains, they were sent to jail in shoals for sedition — brilliant, vigorous, young men in the prime of their lives. The country was shocked, shocked and shaken, at a time when imprisonment was considered worse than leprosy. But the young men saw it coming. Some of them even invited it. They are all but forgotten now.

Those who are remembered owe that to their success in other endeavours, sometimes towards the autumn of their days, after that blistering summer of their youth. Tony Enahoro later became a parliamentarian of note, and served as a minister at cabinet level in both the civilian and military administrations. Mokwuogwu Okoye became known through the brilliance of his publications. The central figure, Osita Agwuna who raised the call for revolution on that hot afternoon, later became a highly respectable traditional ruler.

Those were actually connected with the call, but others volunteered to be counted among the unsung heroes and became victims of the harsh colonial rule which decreed imprisonment for anyone found in’ possession of a copy of the rebellious lecture. Many of those who faced the music on that score simply served their sentences and were heard of no more. But one or two, like Ikenna Nzimiro and Peter Osugo, also emerged into the awareness of national consciousness for their attainments in other pursuits – Nzimiro for his erudition as an academician, and Osugo for his pre-eminence as a sports journalist. In the case of Nzimiro, it should be stated that he was not caught with copies of the lecture. Rather, he took them to a podium in Onitsha market to read them out publicly, daring the police to do their best.

In the main, the names and the awesome price they willingly paid are now dim in our memory in a land that does not count the records of past events amongst its treasures. Their rightful places in our temples of honour and renown remain unfilled. The nation has held them in almost total disregard as though they had never been. They were all real-life heroes, although they have less to show than highly-rated footballers for their valour and towering commitment to the duty they felt they owed to their country… even in the conferment of national honours. That fact is stated, not to establish any wearisome comparison, but as a backdrop against which we might cast the observance itself, with regard to its quality and worth.

We have to appreciate that true heroism goes far beyond ordinary bravery. Some actions which become transmuted into bold deeds originate from sheer rashness. On the other hand, it should be emphasized, a heroic act is usually performed in the face of well-known dire consequences. The hero accepts the performance of the task without counting the cost, whilst actually knowing the score. Sometimes, the action takes place on the battlefield; at other times it could be at an entirely different sphere of confrontation. But no matter in what sphere it occurs, a culture of appreciation swiftly apprehends the worth and content of patriotism, and bequeaths the adequate tribute.

Those young men, six decades ago, readily accepted the prescribed social and personal deprivations, to say nothing of the stigma of imprisonment, as their own contribution to the freedom of their country. Each of them gave away a precious slice of his life when the sap was still running full and strong, with all its pride and promise. A few of them recovered some of the pride, but fewer ever realized the promise. They saw the freedom for which they gave their dreams trampled by armed tyranny and their protests silenced by the strength of steel in the hands of their own kin ..

But their labours have indeed not been in vain. They bore names that should be enshrined in our national archives, names that should flow and bubble in the stream of our national folk lore— Abdallah, Nzimiro, Enahoro, Amosu, Ntup, Osita Agwuna, Marshal Kebbi, Imoudu — men who looked tyranny in the eye and refused to blink. We must not stop writing about them. For though only fragments of their patriotism still persist in our fading memory, a more ebullient expression of their remembrance would form a link of inspiration between their revolutionary spirit and succeeding generations.

And they do have successors, as you may appreciate, because tyranny is for ever regenerated by moral turpitude in the form of greed, dishonesty, vaunting ambition and flagrant abuse of power; but that only creates room for the addition of other names in the pantheon of patriots, like Amaechi, Fayemi, Ezekwesili, Oshiomhole…. who stare tyranny in the face today and refuse to wilt. To make their “tribe” continue and flourish, we must not stop writing.

  Echoes: What a shame, indeed! Whose “democracy”? That was the date Aguiyi-Ironsi and Fajuyi were killed. I bet Ndigbo and Ekiti State didn’t celebrate anything. As for me, I was at an Ndigbo parley that was on, “Lest We Forget” … (08023193939)

They have probably almost totally forgotten Aguiyi-Ironsi and Fajuyi, anyway.

  Echoes: The summary of your article, “What A Shamel”, is “No shame any longer. Or, have they any honour to defend?” Truly ! They are undergoing slow evolution. They can defaecate in the street like dogs without shame. And adage in Edo says:”Iri gha tua gbe, oghi jian. “ That is, if a rope (knot) is too tight it must cut. “ In physics law of young modulus of elasticity, when stress is inversely proportionate to strain, the object must break. (Engr. Asemota; (08067856313).

  Let us just continue to pray that “the object” here may not break.

 Echoes: I have often read your articles but never before have I been able to identify with your points so completely and painfully as with the last one. Perhaps it is because I’m just coming back from the birthday celebration of Archbishop Adewale Martins of the Catholic Church, or because the confusion of youth in the past beclouded my judgment of your yesteryears’ write-ups. Every single word and letter in the article has been inspired and its truth well within our reach. Thank you. (Dr. Ejike Orji; 08034023008)

  Thank you, too.

  Echoes: I do not know when invitation to a family dinner has become the avenue for nominating a candidate for a presidential election. Wonders can never end in Nigeria. (080054461074)

  It says one thing for sure: it could not have been a “family dinner”. And those who described it as such lied blatantly, and the truth is not in them.

Time out.