THE JULY REMATCH – THE NORTH REVENGE TO THE IGBO COUP 09

THE JULY REMATCH – THE NORTH REVENGE TO THE IGBO COUP 09

THE JULY REMATCH – THE NORTH REVENGE TO THE IGBO COUP 09

In Kano, the 5th Battalion was spared immediate violence for two reasons. First, it was commanded by Lt. Col. Mohammed Shuwa, a Northerner, whose leadership quelled any thoughts of mutiny. Second, in Shuwa’s absence, his deputy, Major James Oluleye, acted with foresight.

Like a potter securing his clay before the storm, Oluleye ordered the armory locked and the keys surrendered to him, ensuring the Northern soldiers could not act rashly.

In the Eastern Region, the winds of rebellion were tempered by swift action and sound leadership. A distress call from Lt. Ogbonna in Abeokuta alerted the veteran commander of the 1st Battalion in Enugu, Lt. Col. David Ogunlewe.

Ogunlewe, a man of wisdom and authority, approached his combat-ready troops, disarming their fears and their weapons with diplomacy. “The river that knows its depth does not fear the journey,” and Ogunlewe’s depth of leadership averted catastrophe, securing a truce with the Northern soldiers.

Lt. Col. Odumegwu Ojukwu, the Military Governor of the Eastern Region, was not one to trust the safety of his skin to chance. Suspecting he was marked for elimination, he left the State House and sought refuge at the regional police headquarters. In the Midwest, no blood was shed, for the region lacked a permanent military base.

The Northern soldiers stationed there were members of Lt. Col. Ejoor’s security detail. Nevertheless, Ejoor, ever the shepherd of peace, addressed his men with a blend of courage and humility, saying, “If blood must flow, let it be mine.” His words, like a balm to wounded hearts, quelled their thirst for vengeance.

Across Nigeria, the storm of rebellion raged, scattering trust like chaff before the wind. Yet, amidst the chaos, a few stood firm, wielding wisdom, courage, and the power of the spoken word to temper the flames of war. As the elders say, “When the fire of anger burns low, the pot of wisdom boils.”

In the heat of the afternoon sun on July 29, 1966, Brigadier Babafemi Ogundipe, now the most senior officer of the land, took to the airwaves to calm the storm brewing across the nation. With a voice as firm as the strike of a blacksmith’s hammer, yet laced with the wisdom of a village elder, he declared:

“As a result of unrest stirred by dissidents in the army, particularly in Ibadan, Abeokuta, and Ikeja, the National Military Government has proclaimed a state of emergency in these areas…

… The government assures the public that the situation is under control and strives to restore peace and tranquillity swiftly…”

These words, though spoken with authority, were like rain on dry earth – bringing hope yet leaving cracks unhealed.

Meanwhile, the Ikeja Cantonment in Lagos, like a lion’s den, had become the headquarters of the mutineers. This development gnawed at Ogundipe’s mind, for the proverb warns, “The anthill ignored today may house snakes tomorrow.”

He dispatched Lt. Col. Yakubu Gowon to engage the rebels in dialogue.
When Gowon arrived, he was met by a wall of hostility. The leading figures of the coup, Northern soldiers stationed in Lagos, presented their demands with the force of a tempest. They insisted on two conditions as the price of peace:

1.⁠ ⁠All Northern soldiers must return to their regions of origin.

2.⁠ ⁠The Northern Region must secede from the union.

Their words carried the weight of a blacksmith’s anvil, threatening to fracture the fragile clay pot that was Nigeria. But Gowon, like a fisherman skilled at taming stormy waters, leaned on wisdom and diplomacy.

With the support of British and American ambassadors and a few high-ranking civilians, he labored to dissuade the mutineers from tearing the fabric of the nation apart.
It was said among the elders that “A house divided cannot stand, and a baobab tree split at the root cannot bear fruit.”