How the chance came to take our freedom back seemed like the works of our Chi. The sea winds blew and the delight was great as we hacked our captors to death. Some jumped into the blue unending sea in a bid to save their lives.
We were dragged to the village square where more horror awaited us. I could see our homes up in flames, children were crying, corpses lay on the floor. I could recognize some of them—they were boys of my age grade and some men I’ve known all my life.
Oba, my father, lived deep within the interior of what was known as Nri Community of the Omambala Kingdom. A land where it was said the sun rose from the south and stood at the centre of the Village Market Square.
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