The Day Boko Haram Killed My Army Brother By Onyinye Orabuike

The day started like any other until it was not. My
brother was an officer in the Nigerian Army and
everyday we prayed that he would survive. He was
my eldest and only brother, and had stood in for both
my parents since my mother died 2 years ago. I was
the youngest and never knew my father.
First, my sister called and told me our brother's
latest assignment that put him face to face with the
terrorists and something was wrong. I couldn't
believe it and dialled my brother's line immediately.
A stranger picked the call and told me he was JTF
officer. I told him I wanted to speak to the owner of
the phone and he hesitated.
Then he said; "Didn't you hear what happened to
him?" he asked me.
"What happened to him?" I screamed at him, but he
dropped the phone.
My sister Chinwe called back again and told us Aji
was shot and wounded but was still alive and that we
should just be praying for him.
My husband called his line and I heard him asking
the officer repeatedly if it was fatal. He ended the call
and told me he was only injured.
It was mummy Victor, Aji's wife that called that night
and told me the truth. She wanted to know if I knew
that bokoharam killed my brother. I told her it was a
lie and she said that I could believe whatever I like,
but that he died at the spot and has been taken to
the mortuary.
With those few words she tore my universe and the
sky caved.
It was sheer survival instinct that made me so
determined not to give in. I never fought for anything
in my life the way I fought for survival in days
following the day Aji was killed. I give all the credit to
God.
There were so many questions. It was painful enough
that my brother was dead, but unbearable to imagine
that someone actually pulled a gun and killed my
Hero, for no reason, no reason whatsoever. We lost
our mother when I was just 14 but it wasn't this
painful.
There were so many questions but I was determined
not to ask any. I looked up to God with tears in my
eyes and he gave me comfort, comfort, so much
comfort. I asked God for just two things, One, that I
will always have his spirit around me whenever I
begin to miss him; it just has to be possible
somehow. Two, that I should be granted the favour of
beholding my brother in paradise, the moment I
breathe my last.
Before this time I was not afraid of anything,
including death. I actually looked forward to the day I
will die. I had planned to serve him, enjoy life and do
whatever he wanted me to do quickly so I could be
free to die by say age 45 or 50. I didn't want get as
old as to become unproductive and dependent on
other people, it would so boring and I didn't want
that.
If God, who alone know what Aji meant to me, in his
infinite wisdom thought it right to take him and leave
me alive , then that purpose for which he wanted me
alive must be real important to him, and I became
determined to stay alive , fulfil destiny so that when I
die and get to heaven, seeing Aji again would be for
me a deserving reward

Posted By David Aniemeka