A look at how a diplomat who signed up to serve his country ended up serving his own people Part 111

Nigerian adults, and the Igbos in particular, know the loving intensity with which Professor Austine SO Okwu did his work as a Nigerian diplomat between 1961 and 1967. Brave and outspoken, he repeatedly defended Nigeria, challenging and defending his detractors.

Although not as well known as it should be, Austine Okwu had a guiding hand in the pottery of African unity and in the formation of the Organization of the African Union, the OAU. At least this is what I understood from reading a subsection from his book, In Truth for Justice and Honor: A Memoir of a Nigeria-Biafran Ambassador.

If the interpretation holds, then such a revelation in my understanding of African history (which, frankly speaking, is almost nil), for the sake of posterity, must be pursued to its conclusion.

Having quickly dismissed the discussion over the phone, I agreed to see the professor at his home to clarify certain items, especially the OAU aspects of the book.

He suggested Saturday at 2pm and I agreed.

When I got there, I parked my gray Honda by the curb and turned my head over my shoulder, the professor warming up on the front deck in the rays of the New Haven, Connecticut sun.

When you climb a kola nut tree, it reminded me of an Igbo proverb, get all the nuts you need because kola nut caliber trees are rarely climbed. I immediately agreed, changed my mind and decided to extend the interview to adapt it to the era of the civil war between Nigeria and Biafra.

He led me through the front door into a small hall. To the right was a medium-sized living room, appropriately furnished for a ninety-two-year-old retired diplomat and his wife, and which witnessed countless gifts from loving relatives and sympathizers.

“Anselmo, dear, please sit down,” he said, leading me further into the heart of the living room.

Beckoning me was my favorite place to sit, the middle segment of a three-seater black leather sofa against the wall by the window. On a sturdy brown table in front of me, I placed a copy of the book and the latest versions of my corrected articles, Part I and Part II.

The professor sat on a single sofa to my right. As we talked, he frequently cleared his throat. “I’m not feeling well today; I’ve been in bed all day. If I hadn’t promised, I would have canceled. But I love seeing you. Once we’re done, I’ll go back to bed. But I’m happy to see you, my son Anselmo “.

Did you take any medications, I asked?

“I don’t like medicine, unless of course I get sick. My body will heal itself. I’m better. Would you have ginger ale or water?”

“No, Prof. Thank you.”

We both avoid food and sodas like middle-aged men avoid talking about aging. We continue without interruption.

I hadn’t made a written list because the questions were hot in my brain, like a freshly baked meatloaf.

“Ask any question you want,” he said, reading my mind. My brain pondered, considering how to begin.

Some men ask questions only to frown when a difficult one is thrown. Not Professor Austine Okwu. Since he loves to teach, he loves questions of any difficulty. Naturally the subtitle ‘Saving the OAU’ in his book spearheaded the dam.

Saving the Addis Ababa conference and the OAU

‘Do you really think you participated in the formation of the Organization of African Unity, OAU? If so, how come his name is not in all African history books? Many men became legendary for doing so much less … Mutual laughter broke out to fill the last words.

‘I didn’t say that exactly in my book,’ Austine replied, her laugh giving way to a smile and ending with a clear throat.

“But that was my conclusion after reading the passage many times.”

“Look for the page in the book where I talked about my contribution to the OAU.”

At his insistence, I took the book from the table, hurried back to page 136, and read the section titled: ‘Saving the Addis Ababa conference and the OAU. The essential sequence of the section is presented below.

Emperor Haile Selassie

The African states were divided into two ideological camps, mainly because of their approach to fighting their common imperial enemy. One camp favored dealing with oppressors with kid gloves. The other camp wanted the imperialists to leave immediately, without delay. “A divided Africa is the devil’s launching pad,” said Haile Selassie from Ethiopia, calling a meeting to unite the two warring camps, a total of thirty-one independent states. Julius Nyerere forgot an opportunity.

Julius Nyerere, Tanzania, Dar es Salaam, May 1963

President Nyerere, from the field of “drive out the oppressors now”, saw the Emperor’s meeting as a good opportunity to bring freedom fighters from areas of Africa that are still under colonial rule. He called a meeting of all the diplomats serving in Dar es salaam, a total of ten African chiefs of mission.

“Tell the leaders of your countries,” Nyerere said, “to allow freedom fighters to be part of the May meeting.” To emphasize, Nyerere repeated: “Our brothers who are still fighting colonial oppression must come to the meeting.”

Diplomats did what diplomats usually do; Listen, take notes, and be quiet. Give thanks for the time spent, the food consumed and the friendship built and then inform your country of origin.

All but one nodded approvingly to Julius Nyerere’s directives. Soon enough, the only dissenter spoke. “Inviting freedom fighters, Mr. President, can activate a Pandora’s box and ruin the meeting,” said the young Nigerian diplomat. Immediately, Nyerere directed an aide to stop SO

Austine SO Okwu detained by President Julius Nyerere

Challenging high-ranking diplomats after hours at local restaurants is brave enough, but disagreeing with an African Head of State at a conference is always an error in judgment. Unless, of course, her name is Austine, in which case innate touch, guts, and cunning tighten her muscles to make decisions.

Alone in detention, Austine was in a quandary. Did my magic amulet work? And if so, why did they arrest me?

“Your position once again on the freedom fighters and the Addis Ababa Conference, Mr. Austine?” asked the president.

I foresee trouble, Mr. President. Inviting favorite freedom fighters to the meeting would mean that other Heads of State would invite their own favorite freedom fighters, some of whom are fighting rival Heads of State. These actions may ruin the Addis Ababa meeting. “

With one hand cupping a narrow chin, Nyerere watched as a fragile conference could burst into flames. Two possible outcomes: risk ruining the meeting, or risk disappointing the freedom fighters.

She snuggled up with a confidant. After a few minutes had passed, he emerged and capitulated.

“Thank you, Mr. Okwu,” said the president, “you are a true African patriot, and your judgment may well have saved the Addis Ababa conference.”

Memoranda were sent to the other diplomats: the assistance of the freedom fighters is off the table. The Addis Ababa conference continued, the two rival camps came together and the Organization of African Unity (OAU) was born.

So did SO really save the OAU?

Having reached some resolution on the OAU issue, our dialogue examined the events related to the civil war between Nigeria and Biafra, 1967-1970: Was Kaduna Nzeogwu really an ibo? Did Austine meet the legendary Aguyi Ironsi? Did the Igbo condemn the January 1966 coup that killed Prime Minister Tafawa Balewa and many iconic leaders of the North? Why didn’t Britain’s Prime Minister Harold Wilson rely on northern Nigeria to stop the civil war? Did the Yoruba tribe speak out against the war? Where did the fear of Igbo domination come from at that time? Etc.

All my questions and the teacher’s answers will be presented in the fourth part of my article.