“It is more important to know what sort of person has a disease than to know what sort of disease a person has.” – Hippocrates, Greek Philosopher and Father of Modern Medicine
As a toddler, I had broken the bones of my left arm in a wrestling match against a Kindergarten bully. In my teenage years, I was carried off the soccer field suffering from a compound fracture, following an aerial collision with St. Columba’s “Thunder Catcher!” at Agbor. I was playing for Edo College, Benin.
Few years ago, as a gubernatorial candidate in Delta, someone shot through my gates, engaged my security and by the time it was all over, my legs were shattered; acid was spattering all over my body. As a baby innocent, I witnessed in shock the massacre of my parents, brothers, in the Asaba Genocide story of October 7, 1967.
In Biafra, I experienced the destruction meted by the Russian Fighter Bombers, which, in the words of erudite Nelson Otah, was like the earthquake of the moon, the sun and the stars, “as guns cackled with the shriek of the witches, and death was the pace-maker in the skies.”
In the refugee camp in Biafra, I was in bed with these pregnant children and I will never forget Chinelo, Chidinma, Chidi, Ginikanwa, Phyno, Chukwuma and Mary Ann…
After Biafra, like all children of war, I have learnt to take any adversity that comes my way with the greatest equanimity. And there have been some great temptations.
For those of you who besieged my hospital on learning that Emma Okocha was undergoing a surgery after surviving another life-threatening ailment, I thank you and may God bless you. Those of you who were wondering what happened when I disappeared from the screen, I will like to crave the indulgence of my Lord, the Chief Judge of Anambra State, Justice Philip Umeadi, to forgive my audacity in releasing for the open public the mail I sent to him few hours to my surgical procedure.
My dear Chief Judge,
Forgive my audacity addressing your letter before some of my few friends, who, if you find the time and read out their names, are at this stage of my life have graduated to be the family I miss. Secondly, my Lord, they have been with me since my first temptations at the Washington Heart Hospital and the Howard University Teaching Hospital, through my life-threatening ailments and subsequent delicate surgeries. When the doctors lost hope on me, it was my bosom friend, Tony Isama, who braved it all, restored my hopes to fight for my life and, in fact, I will always remember came for me when Washington threw in the towels.
My Lord, you may be wondering why I’m bothering you with all these at a time when your bench and all you represent is presently facing an unprecedented assault from a truculent coxcomb security department, which, by the time it finishes its campaign against the Judiciary, must have demystified the Judiciary.
Again, remember that it was only last weekend that I had invited you to speak at the Writers’ Guild at Prof Chimalum Nwankwo’s, the Professor of World Literature, Greensboro, North Carolina.
My Lord, this is to inform you and my brothers that, tomorrow, I shall undergo another procedure here in Abuja to clear my heart plagues, thinning out my oxygen to my heart. As the foremost caring hand from day one of my years of recovery from two major surgeries since my return from the US, I think I owe you all this prior information. I was rushed here on Saturday the day of your party. I was stabilised to undergo the procedure tomorrow. I will depend on your prayers and may God bless you all.
Emma Okocha
Justice Umeadi, if you may recount, in these days when the Nigerian judges are at the receiving end, had in a landmark judgment on the 20th of March, 2008 recovered Governor Adams Oshiomhole for Edo State. Whatever happens from the day of that astounding verdict till now, in Edo State, and to the Nigerian Judiciary, history will one day give to that sagacious judge his rightful mention in the Nigerian pages of time.
This recuperating tribute from my bed, therefore, goes to the Anglican Archbishop on the Niger, Bishop J.N. Mogekwu, who, even though I’m a Catholic, led the world chain of prayers and for every major humanitarian programme I have embarked upon, Bishop Mogekwu has always been at the head. If by tomorrow Emma Okocha deflects from the Catholic Church to the Anglican Communion, Church of England, people should hold this Bishop responsible. He was the head of the chain of prayer warriors from Nigeria to Malta, UK, Canada, USA where Reverend Father Ogbonna Ibe from Texas dedicated a full mass for my recovery.
And then finally, Father Ofor, the spokesman of SAPI, who mobilised all the Reverend Gentlemen under the Scholars Association for the Preservation of the Igbo Civilisation, Literature and History….including, Father Mbaka, Father Odi, Father Ani are still praying for my strength and return to the pen and table daily work.
Maurice Iwu, generally known as the enduring Nigerian INEC Chairman, is rather attracted to me because of his brilliant scientific investigations into tropical diseases and their cure. Professor Iwu had earlier been recognised in the US for his breakthrough researches in tropical diseases, especially in the area of the dreaded Ebola epidemic. As a Correspondent of the Vanguard Newspaper in Washington, Professor Iwu was the toast of the US Foreign media when we were invited to the Water Reed Washington Hospital to discuss the research breakthroughs of this African scientist. His tenacity and his singular kindness to me has inspired me to battle on inspite of casualties and obstacles on my chosen thorny paths.
To the Menakaya Doctors, the in-laws to the great publisher of The Sun, I say my gratitude to the great surgeon and the great political thinker. The surgeon had operated on me for more than twice as a student in CKC and as a graduate student in UNILAG. Doctors, I am still breathing.
May our destiny never be obscured by our wishes and desires.

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