Good morning,<\/p>\n
I love this story, its not the usual you find here but still very touching, the humanity in this post speaks volume. Have fun reading it and hopefully share it with people you think will like it as well. More like Memoirs from Maiduguri\u2026<\/p>\n
________________________<\/p>\n
21st<\/sup> January 2013<\/strong><\/p>\n Dear Rachel,<\/p>\n I thought I\u2019d write to you now that I have a little time. It\u2019s been crazy here, and I miss you like a little child. Soldiers are human too, you know? It gets very dusty and cold and many things are new to me. We\u2019ve been through briefings and training and will be starting patrols soon.<\/p>\n I made some new friends, my roommates at the barracks. There\u2019s Timi from Delta state, a chronic Urhobo man who often breaks out in dance in the middle of morning devotions; it\u2019s just hilarious. Then there\u2019s Panshak from Jos who never smiles, but one day I\u2019ll make him smile, I promise. The food here is different, everything is different, even the people.<\/p>\n I\u2019ll write you again soon, I have to go now. Tell mama I\u2019m doing fine and I can feel her prayers.<\/p>\n Love,<\/p>\n M<\/strong><\/em>.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n 14th<\/sup> February 2013<\/strong><\/p>\n Dear Rachel,<\/p>\n I went on my first patrol today. It was a stop and search mission, through the old market and the traders quarters. I could see fear in the people\u2019s eyes as they stared at us; I could see fear and resignation. I think they have accepted that this is their fate; they have given up the inner fight. And for some of them, there was just blankness in their eyes. Panshak said to watch those ones carefully.<\/p>\n And a happy Valentine\u2019s Day to you. I\u2019m sorry I couldn\u2019t be there. I\u2019m working hard to make sure we can have a country to call ours a few years from now. One of these days, you\u2019ll tell me how today went, won\u2019t you?<\/p>\n How is mom doing? Please tell her I\u2019m fine. I wish I could call you, and speak with you, and hear your voice, but I can\u2019t right now.<\/p>\n Never forget that I love you.<\/p>\n M<\/strong><\/em>.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n 17th<\/sup> February 2013<\/strong><\/p>\n Dear Rachel,<\/p>\n Today, I killed a man. I cried a little. I didn\u2019t want my patrol team or roommates to see me. My roommates saw my red eyes anyway. Panshak said I\u2019ll get used to it. I have spent most of the night praying. It\u2019s 3.00am as I write this. I feel like there\u2019s blood on my hands, and everyone was proud of what I\u2019d done except me. They said I saved my team from a suicide bomber.<\/p>\n Would you still look at me the same again?<\/p>\n M<\/strong><\/em>.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n 25th<\/sup> February 2013<\/strong><\/p>\n Dear Rachel,<\/p>\n I dreamed of you last night and it made me realize how much I\u2019ve missed you. It feels good to know you think of me every day. I think of you too, through the endless days on patrol and the sleepless nights. Sometimes I say your name out loud.<\/p>\n I think the scariest part is not knowing who the enemy really is; and because he is everywhere and nowhere, he could be anyone. He is everyone. Perhaps we have become our own enemy.<\/p>\n This is a lonely place. It\u2019s crazy the way people die, but we have become numb to the death. Death has lost the power to shock us like it used to.\u00a0 I have to go now; I have a long day ahead.<\/p>\n You\u2019re the only thing that keeps me going.<\/p>\n M<\/strong><\/em>.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n 4th<\/sup> March 2013<\/strong><\/p>\n Dear Rachel,<\/p>\n Today we lost a man. He was a good man.<\/p>\n A car full of explosives, cooking gas cylinders, nails, ammunition and petrol slammed into the side of the building by the Barrack\u2019s gate. One person died and about thirty-seven were injured. The suicide bomber, he was just a kid\u2014couldn\u2019t have been more than sixteen or seventeen. How do you take a thing as beautiful as a young man\u2019s mind and train it to believe salvation lies on the path to mass murder? But this is our reality and we live it daily.<\/p>\n I wonder about God a lot these days; the things the world has done in His name. Why doesn\u2019t He do something? Does He still love us? My faith is not shaken and I hope this grows it; but as far as growing faith goes, this place is a desert. And faith is a mustard not a cactus.<\/p>\n I hope you have been alright? Sometimes I feel like these letters keep me sane, like the words themselves are therapy. I hope they don\u2019t sound too gloomy when you read them.<\/p>\n You complete me.<\/p>\n M<\/strong><\/em>.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n 7th<\/sup> March 2013<\/strong><\/p>\n Dear Rachel<\/p>\n This war changes a man.\u00a0 You\u2019re never the same once you get involved, and it\u2019s the reasonable ones who suffer most, for reason is not a thing you bring to a war.<\/p>\n After a while you know you hate something but you\u2019re not quite sure what it is. Maybe it\u2019s the impunity with which they kill; maybe it\u2019s the politicians and their rumored complicity; maybe it\u2019s ourselves. There\u2019s a lot of rage bottled up inside the average soldier fighting this war, and we don\u2019t know where to direct it.<\/p>\n We went on a house-to-house search today, and the soldiers let their rage out, burning buildings, breaking bones, and shooting a suspect who tried to escape. He didn\u2019t die from the first shot so they shot him again. I didn\u2019t stop them, and when other reports came to me, I didn\u2019t discipline them. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn\u2019t stop myself from wondering what made me different from the enemy.<\/p>\n In this war, Rachel, we are all casualties; the innocents, the soldiers, the enemy, our faith. And someday, perhaps our unity will follow. The broken pot-holed roads will glisten with blood and we will become another Somalia. Or maybe we can fight them back with their own kind of fear; we can kill them all now and deal with the guilt later. I think these thoughts daily, and then I ask myself how I became this person. One thing hasn\u2019t changed though:<\/p>\n You\u2019re still my best friend.<\/p>\n M<\/strong><\/em>.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n 13th<\/sup> March 2013<\/strong><\/p>\n Dear Rachel,<\/p>\n Today, I made Panshak smile. Heh! I knew you\u2019d be proud of me.<\/p>\n He came in fuming at his boss, expecting some sympathy, and I said, \u201cIt\u2019s okay little girl, would you like a lollipop?\u201d He was trying hard not to smile but he couldn\u2019t help himself when Timi broke out in a mock Urhobo song while howling with laughter.<\/p>\n We\u2019re going on our most dangerous patrol next week, and then I will need all the prayers I can get. I\u2019m not afraid, maybe a little anxious, but not afraid.<\/p>\n I am constantly comforted by the thought that you\u2019re in a safe place. I\u2019m fighting for you, and for the unity of our country, and for our unborn children so they can have a home to call theirs. So I will be fearless. I will be brave, and when I get back, I will tell you my stories. There is a lot to tell you, and I am excited because I\u2019ll be home for Easter. You hold on love, it won\u2019t be long now.<\/p>\n This hell would\u2019ve been more hellish without you.<\/p>\n M<\/strong><\/em>.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n 22nd<\/sup> March 2013<\/i><\/p>\n A quiet sadness settled on the Barracks that evening. The bodies of the ambushed Patrol Team lay spread out in front of the command center.\u00a0 There were no survivors. A young Urhobo Officer made his way through the small crowd to where the bodies lay. It was the third body from his right. He walked slowly to where it lay, then he knelt down beside it and began to cry.<\/i><\/p>\n He walked back to the small house they had shared to gather the dead soldier\u2019s things. There was a small journal on his table with the word \u2018Rachel\u2019 engraved on the handcrafted wooden cover. His friend often said it was the last gift his late wife had given him before she died in a car accident. He flipped it open to the first page and began to read:<\/i><\/p>\n 21st January 2013<\/i><\/p>\n Dear Rachel,<\/i><\/p>\n I thought I\u2019d write to you now that I have a little time\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n He began to cry again.<\/i><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/i><\/p>\n \u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026..<\/p>\n OKANG ASHIWEL OCHUI\u2014a gifted wordsmith\u2014studied Law at the University of Abuja and the Nigerian Law School Lagos. He is currently Head of Operations and Customer Experience at MVRCK Consulting. He describes himself as a \u201c\u2026slow jazz song with no words.\u201d You can find him on twitter (@iamashiwel) or subscribe to his blog (http:\/\/ashiwel.com).<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Good morning, I love this story, its not the usual you find here but still very touching, the humanity in this post speaks volume. Have fun reading it and hopefully share it with people you think will like it as well. More like Memoirs from Maiduguri\u2026 ________________________ 21st January 2013 Dear Rachel, I thought I\u2019d […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3662,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_active":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_note":"","_exactmetrics_sitenote_category":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[178,169,176,212,1549,1547,1548,1552,1545,1553,1550,1542,1546,817,1551,1543,1544],"class_list":["post-3661","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-articles","tag-deolu-bubble","tag-featured","tag-fiction-2","tag-guest-blogger","tag-killings","tag-long-distance-relationship","tag-lose-someone-close","tag-love-story","tag-maiduguri","tag-memoirs-from-the-war","tag-northern-nigeria","tag-okang-ashiwel-ochui","tag-peace-keeping","tag-poem","tag-rachel-m","tag-soldier","tag-war"],"yoast_head":"\n