And they Hacked Him Down
By: Michael Daniels


What did they hack down? I asked in confusion.
Should it be a log of wood meant for fuel?
but it was not that.
Should it be an iroko tree in the thick forest along Ugwuagbala,
meant for timber?
yet it was not.
Should it be a rock at Ugwuagbala, meant for construction?
Absolutely, no !

But what did they hack down?
(Base on my knowledge of English that higher animals are ascribed with human qualities,
I imagined further:)
Is it a bull they hacked down for meat?
Is it a donkey they hacked down for being weary to bear the burden?
Is it a horse they hacked down for not performing?
Or is it a lion they hacked down for being too devouring?
Yet none of these carried the 'yes' answer.

What then did they hack down?
Is it a mad man in the street? No!
Is it a common criminal in town? No!
Is it a notorious murderer? No!
Is it a dissident?Not at all.
But they hacked him down!

Who actually did they hack down?
That penultimate Saturday morning,
my phone rang.
"Hello,"I answered.
"Happy new year Iwola," I added
(though it was a day before the beginning of the second-half of the
year, but because we had not seen each other since the year).
Everyone burst into laughter.
But the laughter could not last on his side
while mine would soon be changed into sorrow because of the news
I were not interested to hear. "That's by the way: have you been
hearing from K.K?" he asked.
"Yes! It was on ... I called him while he was in hospital...,"
I tried to put in.
"Well, K.K is dead, " he interrupted me.
"What do you mean?" I shouted at him.
"I will get in touch with you later, "he switched off the phone and left me
exhausted and motionless;
He switched off the phone and left me confused;
He switched off the phone and left me wounded.
"Which K.K is dead? I communed nervously within
myself.
With my own phone, I called and expected him to renege his previous attack
on me, 'the revelation', and to tell me it was a slippery of the tongue,
yet he upheld his word.

Three times, the same period,
I called him to hear "I was joking, I beg your pardon."
Yet he was very adamant,
he could not compromise himself to tell me something different and better
except that
"Already it has happened--there is nothing else to do."
And they hacked him down.

Do you want me to accept that,
it was my childhood companion they hacked down?
The very one with whom we were pursuing the future together?
He is as gentle as dove,
... as sapient as serpent,
... as industrious as ants,
...and as charming as the eagle!
It is quit incredible that they hacked him down!

Please tell me something else.
Who did you say they hacked down?
A graduate of the University of Benin.
Who did you say they hacked down?
An element of chemical engineering,
one of its kind in the land of his birth and origin;
even few months after his Youth Service to his nation,
and at the time he was to take up a paid job from the
company he applied.
Who did you say they hacked down?
A beam of hope to his generation;
A promising young star;
A symbol of positive change, and to some extent, the end of sorrow;
A nationalist, an elder statesman... and a representative.
And they hacked him down.

The whole story was to me as folk tale told by moonlight;
or a fabrication by the Nollywood star--
even when I went for condolence visit and or was being consoled.

However, that ugly day,
the very day we were carrying in a casket, out of the morgue,
the remains of my friend who came to town by himself, it dawned on me
they have hacked him down.
"What are these fleet of buses waiting for?
To queue behind the ambulance conveying my honourable friend home?
Is it?" I asked simultaneously.
My heart was embittered and beat repeatedly.
Oh they have hacked him down.

More so, when I stood at the ENYA center,
an acronym for Etitiama Nkporo Youth Association,
heard my friend being introduced as 'Late' ;
saw the train of able youth, friends, and relatives in black attires all
through, mourning and traipsing the long way heading to the Eze Okwe
Palace to alert him of the fallen iroko,
it was becoming clear to me that--of a truth,
they have hacked him down.
Hence, behold the tears dripping from my eyes.
No, I could not hold it back.
As a result, it rushed out helplessly.

And right in the Ogbudibia's sitting room,
the casket was laid on a catafalque, and opened.
Also to my greatest surprise and displeasure,
people were wooed to come and see him for the last time if they wished.
"You must be funny," I mumbled.
"You mean I should come and see for the last time who I ought to be seeing always,"
I asked rhetorically.
Consequently, people quickly formed a procession and marched round the catafalque,
staring at my friend, throwing a fit, frowning face and shedding tears.

My friend who used to perform, lain in state facing towards heaven,
seeing all that were around but no one--even when I came he did not notice my presence
(it was here I really knew that something had gone wrong);
hearing everything but nothing people were saying about him,
except what his Creator was saying concerning his brief journey on earth.
At the same time, he was delivering his final lecture to mankind:
telling them that, "One day, you will become as I."
But the fools did not understand him.

The worst of it all, even before I could be loathsome with seeing him for the last time,
they took him to the garden and lowered him to the mud,
as deep as six feet below the ground level.
Surely, they have hacked him down.

Mercilessly, they started throwing sand and pebbles at him--
his most closet were even those that started it;
they could not rest until the last drop of sand dug out was hipped on him--
completely, he was separated from me.
And they hacked him down.

With great pain, I watched the land of Nkporo via Etitiama ate its dinner very early in the morning.
What it ought to preserve, it devoured voraciously even before time.
But it is not to blame, but those who aided the situation;
The land is not to blame but the brutes that live in it;
The land is not to blame but the fools who does not know the value of life,
nor what it costs God to form a soul--
they are foolish because they don't know the repercussion of blood shed.
And they hacked him down.

Lonely, I dragged myself home with grieve, wondering why it should be him instead of that thing I do not know
or which has nothing good to offer.
Yet the nostalgia of the days we rocked many things together constantly stand before me as a statute.
And his memories and philosophies always live before me though they hacked him down.
Fare well Kalu Obasi Ogbudibia
(Kelly Jar).