In a twist that would make even the most jaded undertaker raise an eyebrow, retired Nigerian General Richard Ogbonna has shuffled off this mortal coil while in the tender care of unidentified kidnappers. The general, who was abducted from his farm in the outskirts of Enugu three weeks ago, reportedly expired from what the authorities are euphemistically calling 'an undisclosed ailment.' One presumes that ailment was a severe case of being held captive by people who didn't get the memo about the Geneva Convention.
Now, let us pause to admire the sheer audacity of the kidnappers. They snatch a man who spent his life defending his country, presumably demand a ransom that could fund a small war, and then have the unmitigated gall to let him die. It's like ordering a five-course meal and then complaining about the service when the chef keels over from a heart attack.
The Nigerian military, in a statement that could have been written by a computer program designed to say nothing, confirmed the death and vowed to hunt down the perpetrators. 'We will bring them to justice,' they declared, which in Nigerian parlance usually means they'll find someone to blame, probably a low-ranking soldier who forgot to salute, while the actual culprits vanish into the same ether that swallowed the general's final years.
General Ogbonna retired in 2015 after a career that saw him serve in various peacekeeping missions and domestic conflict zones. He went back to his roots, farming yams and cassava, a noble pursuit that apparently made him a target for the sort of people who think kidnapping a veteran is a good business plan. The irony is so thick you could spread it on toast.
This incident comes hot on the heels of a spate of kidnappings in Nigeria aimed at military personnel, retirees, and their families. It's almost as if the kidnappers have realised that the security apparatus is about as effective as a chocolate teapot in a heatwave. The government has responded with the usual cocktail of condemnation and promises, which are about as nourishing as a breath mint at a famine.
As we drink a gin and tonic to the general's memory, let us reflect on the genius of a system that allows a man to survive multiple wars only to be finished off by a common criminal. If this were a work of fiction, the editors would call it too improbable. But it's real, it's Nigeria, and it's another brick in the wall of our collective disbelief.
So, raise a glass to General Ogbonna, a man who earned his retirement only to have it stolen by amateurs. And let's hope that for once, the authorities follow through, not just with talk, but with actual action. But I won't hold my breath. It smells too much of gin and regret.
