When Maman Vatsa died

I was in secondary school, or was it preparatory to start my university career? I can’t remember

But what I remembered was sitting in my father’s sparsely furnished living room, riddled with contractions and fear

In my young mind, I loved IBB to death. He was charismatic and fine. His gap tooth was beautiful, and for the first time, we saw a Military man with a human face

His beautiful family. Good-looking children made me love him more.

I had heard of the soldier poet Vatsa. I had read his poems and seen his name on the cover of many of his works

Then he was arrested, and this hit me. Was IBB going to kill this poet? Won’t he save him simply cos I loved his poems

I sat for days without food. I really was cut badly by the news

Vatsa wasn’t a handsome man in my estimation, not with his huge tribal marks on a podgy face, and this didn’t even make him stand on the same pedestal as my dashing IBB

But a coup? His life? Treason? And I stopped seeing him as a Soldier but as a poet.

No, I wasn’t going to agree for him to face the bullets, but then, what could I do from my father’s living room, and with NEPA taking power every two minutes, even disturbing my concentration on the matter

Then, prof Wole Soyinka led Chinua Achebe and other writers to go and beg for his life

Then I saw him after the meeting with IBB, saying to reporters that everything will be ok

I heaved a massive sigh of relief and stood up to ask my mother for my food, which was cold eba and stale afang with nothing in it – my dad had lost his job again.

I had finally gotten my appetite back. The professor had entered the matter, and Vatsa would be saved.

I finished eating, went into the room and brought out The Man Died – Soyinka’s very confusing book

I had tried so many times to read it, and each time, I would get confused and throw the book away

This time, I owed Soyinka to confuse myself as a reward for his bravery on this Vatsa matter

I hadn’t even opened the book when my father screamed – ohh my Goddddd

I rushed out of the room, and he was staring at Domkart Bali, the defence minister, and he was just saying – they had been killed a few minutes ago

I was broken. Killed? Did he say shot or killed?

Whatever the nomenclature, Vatsa had been obliterated by his friend.

The last image of Vatsa remains very clear in my head – White trad with a long cap, the type northerners wear, and in handcuffs, but with a very brave mien

When you compare him to Abacha’s Works Minister, Adisa, who grovelled and begged like a baby, you would understand the soldier Vatsa was – he died in honour and bravery.

President Bola Tinubu has cleared up a shameful past in our history – killing a man for thinking of overthrowing.

I feel so blessed to witness this pardon, cos he really didn’t do anything in my estimation

Thanks, President Tinubu, you have done nobly.

Where were u d day Vatsa was murdered?

God bless u

Duke of Shomolu