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Flora Nwapa is known as the Mother of modern African literature; she was the first internationally published African woman writer in English and the first African female publisher. Her highly praised novels Efuru (1966) and Idu (1970) were published in the Heinemann African Writers Series, while her later novels Women are Different (1986) and One is Enough (1986) were initially published in Nigeria, later republished through Africa World Press, Inc in the United States. Through Never Again (1975), Flora Nwapa became the first female African writer of war novels, insightful stories of the horrors of civil war. Her last novel The Lake Goddess (2017), posthumously published by Tana Press, is acclaimed as one of Flora Nwapa’s literary masterpieces, bound to become a classic. Talented in many genres, Flora Nwapa also wrote short stories This is Lagos and other Stories (1971), Wives at War and Other Stories (1980), poems Cassava Song and Rice Song (1986) as well as plays Conversations (1993) and The First Lady (1993). Through children’s books, such as Emeka - Driver’s Guard (1972), Mammywater (1979), and Journey to Space and Other Stories (1980), Flora Nwapa also told stories for future generations.

Flora Nwapa was born in 1931 in Oguta, Nigeria. After graduating from University College Ibadan and University of Edinburgh, she taught at Queen’s School Enugu and then University of Lagos, where she was also appointed Assistant Registrar. At the end of the Nigerian Civil War, she served in the Executive Council of Eastern Nigeria until 1975. In 1977 she established a printing and publishing company, Tana Press Ltd. In addition to writing and publishing, she was a visiting professor in creative writing at the University of Maiduguri, and she also spoke at numerous conferences in Africa, Europe and the United States. In 1983, she received the Nigerian national honor of Officer of the Order of the Niger (O.O.N) for literature and in 1992 she received a Medal of Honor from Imo State. Flora Nwapa passed away in 1993 in Enugu and is buried in Oguta. She was survived by her husband and three children.

Ebo and Bisi met at their workplace in Lagos. Ebo was the personnel officer in a large multi-national company and Bisi, the secretary to the managing director of the company. Ebo was Igbo and Bisi, Yoruba. They saw each other for two years and decided to get married. There was opposition from both their families, so they married quietly at the Registry Office.

The marriage was blessed by three sons in quick succession. Bisi was a devoted wife, who was determined to prove that an inter-tribal marriage could and would work. Ebo was also a good husband who did all in his power to see that his family was well provided for. They lived happily, until the coup of January 15th, 1966, that changed everything.

Ebo and his family were obliged to leave Lagos for his home town, Onitsha. Bisi had never visited Onitsha before. Their children spoke only English and Yoruba, but no Igbo. But Bisi was determined, like all the other Igbos in Lagos, to make her home in Onitsha, when she saw that her husband was bent on going back home.

In Onitsha, Ebo’s uncle provided them with a two-bedroom house and a small kitchen. Ebo then travelled to Enugu to see what job he could do to help ‘win the war’ for Biafra. He got a place in the Ministry of Information in the propaganda section. Ebo soon discovered that the people were being prepared for a long-drawn war and became apprehensive. He decided it was safer to move his family to Port Harcourt where he got a good bungalow in the Shell camp. He travelled to Port Harcourt from Enugu every weekend. Soon Enugu fell, followed quickly by Onitsha and the government moved to Umuahia. Ebo then moved to the Department of Military Intelligence, known as D.M.I., and was transferred to Port Harcourt.

But the war was not going well for Biafra, and Ebo was determined to keep his family safe and intact. What was he going to tell Bisi’s mother if Bisi died or something dreadful happened to her? So, he got a map of Eastern Nigeria, studied it very carefully, and picked out a village in the Igbo heartland where he would move his family until the end came.

He did not waste time. With the help of his driver, who was from Orlu, at the heart of Igbo land, Ebo got an unfinished concrete house in Okporo village. He offered to roof it with zinc and the landlord readily agreed. But the landlord wondered how a man from the D.M.I. could, in war time, roof a house when millions starved.

This action convinced the villagers that the landlord was indeed a saboteur, so they organised a show down with the ‘saboteur’ tenants. The night they chose to burn down the house was the night that Ebo brought another group of army officers in His Excellency’s Brigade to make merry after a successful “operation”.

The villagers came out with their crude weapons, ignorant of the presence of the officers. They tried to break down the house and the officers retaliated. It was a swift and easy operation; the officers rounded the villagers up, and gave them a thorough beating. Those who “resisted arrest” were detained and later carried off to Umuahia.

A week later, Ebo finally brought his family to Okporo: Bisi was completely shattered because of the shellings in Bonny sector. When she heard of the incident between the officers and the villagers, she refused to live in the house for fear of attack by the villagers when her husband was away. But there was no other place for her to go. Ebo told her so. She flared up.

Ebo was worried after this incident. He was determined that he and his family would survive the war. He owed it as a duty to his wife, and his children. To better support his family, he gave forged passes, which he got as a D.M.I. Officer, to friends and relatives who paid him in cash and kind. He wondered whether Bisi knew how he got the money he gave her for house-keeping. She did not ask questions though, preoccupied as she was with; the business of surviving.

Ebo’s family had been in Okporo village for a month when his childhood friend, Eze, visited them with his wife, Adamma. Eze’s home had been evacuated and the prospect of being refugees was irksome to Eze and his wife, because a refugee was more likely to be conscripted into the army. To Adamma’s surprise, Ebo demanded ten Nigerian pounds in coins from his friend. Eze said nothing. It was his wife who spoke. ‘Ebo,’ she said quietly. ‘Please have pity on us. We don’t have one pound in Nigerian coins. Eze and I were married only a few months ago. We have lost everything. The vandals set our town on fire. Please say something we can afford. We can pay you in Biafran currency, that we can manage.’

There was an awkward silence, then Bisi emerged from the room and summoned her husband to follow her. Soon he came out again and demanded five Nigerian pounds in coins. Eze agreed to pay one. Then Bisi came out again and shouted at her husband, ‘Ebo, enough of this. Eze, you pay nothing. Here you are,’ and she handed Eze a uniform and identity card duly signed. ‘Eze, you are Ebo’s friend. War or no war, we must remember our friends. So go into the room and put on the uniform,’ she said.

Ebo stared at his wife in utter disbelief. Was Bisi mad? Eze and his wife stared as well, not knowing what to do next. Then Bisi sat down on the floor, crossed her legs and said, ‘Let me tell you about a dream. I dreamt last night I was in Lagos, or was it Ibadan? You see, I am from Ijebu Ode, but my parents live in Lagos. Anyway, in the dream I got married to Ebo in Lagos. It was a gorgeous white wedding. The Prime Minister attended, and twenty top army officers. My husband was a colonel in the army. All my brides- maids were flown from Paris and my flower girls from Athens. And the wedding cake? That was made in Lisbon. There were three wedding cakes. But the plane did not arrive on time. No, it was not the plane. My husband was arrested on the day of the wedding. Ask me why? Simply because he refused to fly the plane. So, the airport commandant arrested him, and arrested my three wedding cakes. And I stood at the altar waiting for the bridegroom who had flown to Lisbon to bring in arms that would be used to clear the vandals from the mysterious lake.’

‘But people in Owerri were angry. They asked why should my husband fly to Lisbon to bring in arms and ammunition to clear the vandals from Lake Oguta, while Owerri was threatened? So they arrested my husband, and I stood at the altar waiting. Then the priest said, “You beautiful bride without a bridegroom, be my wife.” Then I said to the priest, “you good for nothing priest, you were the cause of this war. Your sins caused God’s wrath, and God has descended on us. Why should I marry you? Do priests marry? Yes, priests do marry in Biafra. But I won’t marry you because I am already married to Ebo.” Ebo, my love, isn’t that so?’

‘Bisi, Bisi, stop it. I say stop it.’ Ebo took hold of his wife and shook her vigorously. ‘You are with me, we were married in Lagos all right. Come in, my love, come in and have a rest, you are tired. Oh my God, Bisi, it will be perfectly all right. Take my word for it. We shall overcome. Biafra will win this war and I will take you back to Lagos and Ibadan and God and…’

‘Don’t get excited, my husband. Don’t you ever get excited anymore. I am not mad. I am quite sane. You are my husband. The man over there is your friend, Eze. You told me about him when you were courting me. And you wanted him to pay you five Nigerian pounds in coins. I ask you, will you eat money? You have a hundred pounds in coins. You gave it to me for safe keeping. What are you doing with your friend’s coins? Tonight, you will go to the airport. The plane will bring in your worthless Biafran notes. You and your so-called friends will steal a carton each from the plane before lorries convey the money to the Central Bank.’

‘But, as I was saying, I told you I had a dream. There were people playing in a football pitch. Two teams. One was from Biafra and the other from Zambia, or was it Tanzania? Then ten MIGs from Egypt descended on the players and bombed them all out of the football field. Yes, it was at the Liberty Stadium, Ibadan. Not one spectator reached home. They were all killed by the MIGs flown by the wicked Egyptians.’

‘God works in a mysterious way. Not one of the players lost his life. Then a huge plane from China landed at Liberty Stadium and air-lifted all the players. The Nigerians were still in confusion. And do you know where the Chinese plane landed? Not at Uli airstrip—it was too small for the plane. Not at Uga airstrip either. It landed on Lake Oguta and the players all swam out to safety.’

‘So you see, I lost my father and my mother and my brothers and sisters. They were in the Liberty Stadium on that fateful day. So, Ebo, my husband had brought me here to die at the hands of the villagers. So help me beg Ebo to take me away from this village before I commit suicide. Help me tell Ebo to put me in the Red Cross plane tonight at all costs.’

‘He deceived me. He told me the war would be over in two weeks, that the Israelis were on our side. It was one of his friends who lied to the people of Biafra, telling them that all the countries in the world had recognised Biafra. Now he has brought me here to live and die like a rat. So that…’

Adamma, Eze’s wife, got up now and whispered to Ebo’s wife who followed her out of the house, ‘You are tired, you must sleep. This war is terrible, but please don’t let it get you. I married only a few months ago, and I don’t want it to get me. I must survive this war. Please don’t let it get you. Where are your children?’

‘With the priest. They are being baptised for the fourth time since the beginning of this war. I told the priest I did not want his relief. I never could eat stock fish. Egg yolk made me sick. All I wanted from him was milk and sugar and coffee and flour. Then he began to make certain demands, so I stopped going and sent my boys instead.’

Inside the house, Ebo’s head was bowed low. This was it. His wife was now mad. He must look for a psychiatrist to treat her. There was only one of note in the whole of Biafra and he had almost worked himself to death. Poor doctor. Why on earth did he take to that kind of specialisation? All sorts of patients were brought to him: those who suffered from shell-shock and other shocks, those who ran amok in broad daylight, and those wives whose husbands had died in battle fields and those declared missing. All flocked to the good doctor. Was Ebo’s wife going to be one of them? No, she must be flown to Lisbon by any means. That night if possible.

‘We are going on a long journey. Please don’t ask any more questions. Just do as I ask you,’ he commanded. Then he called his driver and gave him a message to the commandant of the Uli airstrip. ‘Tell the commandant that a very important person and his family are leaving tonight for Lisbon. The airstrip must be well guarded,’ the message read.

Meanwhile the news had gone around at the airport that Her Excellency was travelling that night. The Queen of England had received the petition sent to her by the National Women’s Club, the Busy Bee Women’s Club, and the Women’s Active Service Club. Her Majesty the Queen, and the Queen’s mother, were distressed by the sufferings of the innocent Biafran children. So, Her Majesty the Queen had graciously sent for Her Excellency to have a woman-to-woman discussion on the help Great Britain could give to the suffering and peace-loving people of Biafra.

The security was quite tight on that night. All those who were not supposed to be there disappeared. Nobody was sure whether His Excellency was seeing her off or not. So, the airport officials needed to be quite prepared and be on their best behaviour. The fact that no official letter was received from the Government House made the whole trip more authentic than ever.

Ebo and his family arrived just at the time the relief plane was touching ground. Fatigued men were busy unloading the plane. The pilot came down for a rest before taking off again. Ebo went straight to him and spoke to him. The pilot nodded without understanding a word of what Ebo said. He spoke only French and Spanish.

Then shots were heard. Nigerian planes were above and were firing at the relief plane. This was Ebo’s chance. The pilot climbed into his plane. Ebo’s wife and children followed. The airport commandant was there. He bowed and smiled stupidly as they climbed into the plane. None of the people standing-by had set eyes on the First Lady before. Before the door of the plane was shut, Ebo climbed in and the plane took off. At Umuahia, the following morning, women leaders got together for once to protest to the Foreign Secretary about their non-inclusion in the mission. An inexperienced foreign affairs officer, who had abandoned his post in India and had returned through the Cameroons just before war was declared, was at a loss what to say to the women. ‘We demand to see the Foreign Secretary,’ the women shouted.

‘You wait until we see him. He must explain. He must tell us who represents the women. You know, my driver came to me early this morning and gave me the news. He was so concerned. A fellow driver had told him that some women had been sent to London to represent the Biafran women. He knew that I represented all the women in Biafra, so he had come to tell me. He felt it was most unfair,’ one of the women leaders reported, indignantly.

Unfortunately, for the officer, the door opened and the Foreign Secretary appeared. ‘We have come to see you. But we were told you went to the toilet. Tell us, if the Queen of England wanted to have an audience with the representatives of Biafran women, who should be asked to represent them?’