It was in the early evening of the year 1966 and 2004, different times but same conflict. Isaac ‘Adaka’ Boro and members of his Niger Delta Volunteer Force (NDVF), having declared the Niger Delta region a republic, were returning from a fierce battle with federal government forces on the third day of the revolution. Meanwhile, the GOC (Tompolo), along with members of the Movement for the Emancipation of Niger Delta (MEND), were also returning to base after successfully neutralising a soft target that had gone against their demand to shut down operations in the creek.

As the GOC approached one of the secret entry points in the creek that lead to a secondary fort, he heard the sound of a small engine approaching the exit. He recalled they had left no one behind when leaving on their mission that morning. So how come this movement? The GOC raised his hand, signaling to his compatriots to stop and to get ready in case it was an ambush. He listened attentively to the noise of the engine which keeps getting louder until a small boat, with not more than eight occupants in it, emerged from the tiny mouth of the creek. As soon as the occupants saw the GOC and his compatriots, they also stopped and branded their Dane guns at their uninvited guests, an act of defense.

A young man in the small boat who appeared to be their leader broke the awkward silence. “Who are you people?” he asked, pointing a finger towards them.

“I am Tompolo, but my compatriots call me the GOC. I am the leader of the Movement for the Emancipation of Niger Delta.”

The young man in the small boat replied, “My name is Isaac Boro but I am also known as Adaka, leader of the Niger Delta Volunteer Force. Are you here to join us in our struggle to liberate the Niger Delta from the evil grasp of those who oppress and condemn us into a perpetual state of slavery?”

The GOC and his compatriots were stunned as soon as he mentioned his name. They began to wonder if this was a joke taken too far or that someone was trying to play a fast game on them. Some of them began to whisper to each other, probably cautioning themselves that these strangers could be from the government forces, disguised in pretence to fool them as well as to sabotage their efforts.

The GOC looked at the young man and inquired further. “You said your name is Isaac Boro? You mean the same Isaac Boro that was born September 10, 1938 in Oliobiri; that joined the Nigeria Police Force but later fought against the federal government? Was arrested and then put in prison along with his compatriots, only for him to be granted amnesty and made to enlist in the Nigeria Army as a Major to wage war against the secession of Biafra republic from Nigeria during the…?”

“If I may ask,” the young man in the small boat interrupted the GOC, “are you a prophet? What is this nonsense of me joining the Nigerian Army you are talking about?”

“No, I am not a prophet,” replied the GOC. “but how do we know you are who you say you are?”

Adaka cast a long shot with bloody eyes at the GOC and his fellow compatriots. He raised his voice and proclaimed, “I am Adaka, son of Boro from Kaiama town, born in Oloibiri at the zero hours of twelve midnight in the creeks of the Niger Delta. I fear no man and I can never be intimidated over my identity. If you say you know me then you ought to have seen my picture to recognise my identity. Take my word for it or leave it! I don’t have time to play games and as you can see we are out for a very serious business.”

“But, what are you doing here?” asked the GOC. “You are not supposed to be here. Do you even know where you are? This is 2004! You died 36 years ago, precisely in 1968 at Okrika in Rivers State under mysterious circumstances. We suspected certain forces conspired against you and eliminated you after the Nigerian civil war.”

On hearing this, the young man turned and looked at his compatriots, as if to confirm if they heard what the GOC just said. He glanced back at his guests and inquired. “How do you mean? How can I join the enemy of my people and then choose to fight against my fellow Southerners in support of a government that has no regard for my people? I don’t understand what you are saying!”

There was a still calm as both parties weighed each other, trying to fathom what this unnatural meeting was all about in the first place. Finally, Adaka broke the silence.

“Wait, at my last count we are in the year 1966. In fact, today is February 26. And yet you are saying the year is 2004. Now that I look at you very well, I am beginning to wonder at all what you said might be true. I think I believe you. After all, your clothing gear looks quite sophisticated. Even your weapons and that big engine of yours is something else. We have never seen all of these before. Also, you seem to know more about me but I have never heard anything about you or your movement before now. If your time is 2004, then it is either you time traveled from the future back into the past, or I and my compatriots have somehow time travelled from the past into the future. But I doubt this second reasoning. I think the first one makes more sense because if you want to correct the future you need to know what happened in the past!”

The GOC laughed. “Adaka! This is not some Sci-Fi movie that Hollywood produces. Come on my brother, be serious! We are waging a war here in the Niger Delta!”

“I am very serious GOC. But I think there is a purpose why we are meeting even though we are from different times. According to you, if I was arrested that means our struggle wasn’t successful. Although I never thought we would win this war in the first place; after all, we are just but few men with local guns facing the superior firepower of the Nigerian armed forces. As a former police officer, I know what I am talking about. However we took the risk just so our voices would be heard. At least, it was better than doing nothing or being labeled as...”

The GOC cuts in, “Adaka, if you are who you say you are, then I must tell you this, you are a Niger Delta hero. The youths in my time celebrate you even though many of them fail to live up to your ideological standard. What you are doing right now is what inspired most of the Niger Delta youths to fight for the emancipation of the region. And we will not stop until we achieve true freedom for our people. We all commend your efforts even though majority of the Niger Delta people haven’t come of age at the time you began the struggle. You indeed saw into the distant future during your time and you did something to positively change that future.”

“Well,” Adaka smiled, “thank you for the compliment. But from what you have told me, I think we are fighting the wrong battle.”

“How?” the GOC asked.

“Please, when you go back to your time, charge our people to change their approach of fighting just as I have decided right now to change mine this very moment. Let us fight for inclusion of our people in government. Our people are not in government and so our demands and plights are not recognised by those in power who have the authority to bring change to our people. If our people happen to be among the power brokers, definitely the dividends of democratic government will find a place in our affairs unlike what obtains now.

“Secondly, fight for our people to be educated. That is also another reason we are not in government or close to it. We have kept to ourselves for too long. It is time we begin to build bridges of interaction with our neighbours and the outside world as we cannot exist alone. We are intelligent people. If we can embrace education, then think of the wonders we will do. Even if the government takes away our oil for now but chooses to give our people quality education, in the long run, it would be better for the Ijaw Nation.”

The GOC nodded in agreement. “Adaka, that makes a lot of sense. In fact, I think we are in the same direction. I too have noticed these shortcomings. It will be much better to be a part of the government to influence development to our people rather than being the enemy, fighting a war that does no one any good. Our people are not safe as our communities are destroyed by those who hate us and use every little opportunity they get to want to annihilate us as a people. But they will not succeed.”

Adaka continued, “The journey of a thousand miles starts with a step. I have taken this first step. Even though I will die through some hatched conspiracy I do not mind. After all, you don’t expect your enemy to trust you completely. But I am ready to lay down my life if it would inspire our people to tow the right path to true freedom. In my time I must find a way to be part of the government hoping that they would see a different reason to carry us along. I indeed salute your courage. I wish God would allow another time for our paths to cross. We must leave now, a storm is coming.”

With that in mind, the two young men parted ways and headed in opposite direction. And just when the GOC remembered something he had failed to do and then turned around, hoping to get it done with, to his dismay, Isaac ‘Adaka’ Boro and his men were nowhere to be found. It seemed in an instant they had just vanished into thin air.

“GOC,” one of his compatriots who noticed this oddity of event spoke out alarmed, “something is not natural here.”

“I know,” the GOC replied. “With such a small engine they couldn’t have disappeared from this open river just like that. That is all the sign we needed. Long live Isaac ‘Adaka’ Boro and those who fell in the Niger Delta struggle. They will all be remembered for their ultimate sacrifices which will not be in vain. Henceforth, we will fight a different kind of battle. We have lost too many of our precious brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers, to the Niger Delta struggle. Our new battle is now how to pitch our people in strategic places in the corridors of power within the government, those who will make easy the push for our emancipation and infrastructural development without firing one gunshot or putting the lives of our people at the risk of military bombardments. We will take the battle from violence to intellectual warfare (as long as that option is open to us). Let us fight the true kind of warfare that is required in this current age where information is power and the pen is mightier than the sword; a warfare of intelligence, for the world has passed the era of physical violence, which when it arises, will always be defeated by intellectual violence. Education and our involvement in politics and in government is the key to our freedom. Long live the Niger Delta struggle!"

The End.

NOTE: First published January 24, 2020 on PENGlobal Facebook's My Public Discourse Page https://www.facebook.com/share/p/16JyPdj4WN/