Christian Chukwu: Nostalgic Memories of The Fallen Legend – Kola Johnson

At the height of his fame and glory, prior to his tragic overthrow, on February 24,1966 during his visit to Peking China,in quest of an armistice for the Vietnam war, legendary Ghanaian leader and doyen of Pan-Africanism, the Osagyefo Kwame Nkrumah of Ghana, bestrode the African geo-political landscape like a colossus.

Infact, it was not unusual during this memorable epoch in question for the average white man,whether an American or European crossing path with an African – to ask him:”which part of Ghana are you from?”when he could rather rightly have asked ” which part of Africa are you from?”

Reason for this is certainly not far-fetched, because in their limited ken,at that point in time,Ghana was Africa and Africa was Ghana.

Another most celebrated leader,quite apposite for this discourse was Ahmed Sekou Toure of Guinea,grandson of Samori Toure,the legendary warrior, terror and anti-colonial stormy petrel who till today,made a resonating echo of history as one who engaged the French colonial army, led by General Gallieni, in the Franco-Mandinka battle of 1891 to 1898; the longest battle ever to be fought in the annals of African colonial history.

It’s indeed interesting to know that Nkrumah lived the rest of his exilic sojourn in Conakry Guinea, where he fell sick of cancer and was flown to Bucharest in Romania,where he eventually gave up the ghost after a six-year sojourn in Guinea.

One thing that was common to both apart from being the closest of friends on earth was that they carried a big ego.Egos that were much bigger than their respective countries if not the macrocosm of the African continent.

This said however,the critical point to be made,in terms of the most important similarities transcendentally defining both of them was the uncanny sensitivity which in turn inspired the fanatical zeal with which the two,utilised sports as a chauvinistic instrument of national pride and ego; and a pawn in the chessboard of African and international global politics.

Indeed going back to a voyage in memory in those memorable good old days,the Ghana Black Star and the Sylli Stars of Guinea, dominated the African continental soccer arena ,with imperial grandeur and authority.Mere mentioning their names, they struck you with awe and reverence – let alone the gripping reality in which you beheld them in their formidable spectacle,let lose on rampage,on the soccer arena,terrorising their opponents with their mystifying soccer artistry.

In those memorable good old days,defeat was for these two teams, an abomination, because it signified a direct affront and a slur, on the personal self-esteem of the respective leaders of the nations they represented.Indeed if anything,the fear of the formidable Black Star and the Sylli Stars in those unforgettable era of nostalgic memory,was the beginning of wisdom.

Of course, we would always remember,as a predictable matter of course,the punching bag drubbing, with which successive terrorising Ghanaian ball jugglers of those days,had often rambunctiously trodden on the Eagles,as inconsequentially unreckonable pawn, as they “cannibalised” the soccer arena into their own personal fiefdom – just as we would also remember Guinea, particularly at the zenith of their glory,when they had scaled all draconian hurdles to the final of the vigorously contested 1973 Second All Africa Games,held in Lagos only to miss out in a painfully narrow loss to Nigeria’s Green Eagles at the finals of the energy sapping encounter.

The point which is decidedly germane for reference ,for those who might not be conscious enough of the causative dynamics of these successive runs of soccer excellence and are by that token,wont to construe it from the casual lens of sheer happenstance – is that it was far from a fortuitous occurrence,but indeed an ingenious stratagem politically engineered and designed,as a deliberately intentioned purpose, to be a leveraging extension of the ego-personalities of the Osagyefo,Kwame Nkrumah of Ghana and Ahmed Sekou Toure of Guinea, in their hey days of political helmsmanship as leaders of their respective nations.

It was this particularly strategic pathway as a political child of necessity that inspired the formation of Rangers International Football Club,Enugu.

To be sure,the Ibos emerged from the ashes of the Biafra-Nigeria Civil war with an absolutely atrophied racial pride and ego. Economically ravaged,with mortal gash of trauma deeply buried on the psyche,they plunged into a lonely spell of isolated solo-conversation,reeking so intense, after years of socio-economic isolation from the mainstream of the polity.Indeed the scary depth of these excruciating sorry pass could really not be vividly appreciated in its fulsome horror, without a retrospective recourse to the four-year hiatus predating the end of the war,when the Igbos commanded a dominant presence in virtually every strategic spheres of national life, especially the army,the economy, business and government ;only to negotiate a deep plunge into the abyss of unreckoning; just within an “immediate split second departure”.

It’s against this intensely excruciating dire strait that one gets at least to some reasonable extent to comprehending the humiliating racial stupor of immensely critical proportion, which as a child of necessity,inspired the formation of Enugu Rangers.

As Enugu Rangers were adventing in those days,into the territorial waters of the soccer arena,they came with a determined grit and gut, audacious rage of hunger and a rapacious impulse for regal overlordship on the soccer arena.

No wonder that right from the word go, they exploded with such terrimotive bang that inspired awe and reverence leaving no one in any doubt of their incontestable primacy on the hippodrome of Nigerian soccer.

And thus did it happen that for the first time,though within a supposedly hollow frame of four years or there-about;but which appeared something like eternity, the superlative exploits of these pioneering soccer geniis,provided the enervating fillip for the resurgence of the Igbo racial pride as Igbos were once again able to raise their voice with pride.

However,for this iconic football team,the momentous fulfillment of destiny did not arrive,until the advent of Christian Chukwu who took over the captainship of the team.To be sure,it was this enigmatic defender, affectionately christened “Chairman” in honorific appreciation of his treasurable gem of inspirational leadership,that eventually turned out as the appointed Messiah destined to lead the Enugu Rangers,beyond the vast national space, as expressed in their awe-inspiring blitzkrieg which with unquestionable audacity fetched them an unprecedented haul of laurels in the stiffly competitive Challenge Cup series and the equally explosive series of the Local Football League – to the apogee of African continental fame and glory,which saw the club winning the African Cup Winners trophy for the first time since its eventful existence.

As Rangers soared in glory,so did it contribute in its own considerable quantity in elevating the pride,dignity and confidence of the Igbos,enabling them to raise their voice in higher octave,more than ever before,in the diverse facets of public affairs.

And as it was to turn out,in inevitable consequence,Chukwu as a Golden Fish without a hiding place and a Light on top of the hill that could not be hidden – would appear signally bound as a consequence of his soaring fame and exploit – for a teleological appointment with fate, following his meritorious appointment as Captain of the Super Eagles.

Truly to his meritorious billings,it wasn’t surprising that Chukwu rose to the occasion, leading the Eagles to clinch the highly coveted African Cup of Nation; coming for the first time in the history of Nigerian soccer, and the greatest moment in the annals of Nigerian soccer, as Africa and the global world stood still for the Super Eagles on that memorable moment that Chukwu stepped out to lift the much coveted continental trophy to the Soccer Glory of Nigeria; its founding fathers,and its teeming mass of soccer devotees.

Rating amongst the most formidable star-studded assemblage of soccer veterans in the annals of Nigerian soccer,it would have been particularly interesting to behold this Chukwu-propelled squad in action in the quintessential beauty and bewildering climax of their soccer dexterity at the 1976 Montreal Olympics in Canada,which on a lamentable stroke of development,was implacably boycotted by Nigeria due to the inability of the organizers to ostracise New Zealand from the games for their fraternization in sports with the Apartheid regime in South Africa.

On a similar note of disappointment was their excellent form and performances during the epic campaign for the Argentina ’78 World Cup qualifier which unfortunately suffered a tragic abortion at that unforgettable moment of darkness when the otherwise dependable veteran defender,Godwin Odiye, netted an own goal,in that memorable epic encounter with Tunisia,thus
scuttling what might have been a most remarkable showing by an African country in the annals of the most coveted global soccer diadem.

Such an enigma was he;a defender standing miles apart from other defenders; a master stopper,the legendary Rock of Gibraltar,unique for his forensic reflexes,his adroit footwalk;and uncanny sense of anticipation.

Rugged.Immutable.Immoveable.Constant;Chukwu defended with such clinical finesse,that left you gaping in amazement as to what manner of a gentleman is this.Yet, his indomitable valour,courage and soldiery that made him elusively invincible even to the most doughty attacker,striking quite at variance with his gentle bearing would enigmatically unfold even on a greater scale, an intriguing contradiction which signally goes a long. way to unfold his towering Olympian imagery.

But to cap it all, Chukwu was a factotum, a multifaceted jack of all wings and master of all.This was a man who was not just contented with his primary defensive post.As a consumate strategist and tactician,he was quite conversant with the pragmatic strand of engagement, poignantly instructing that attack is the best form of defence.

It is against this background that this strategic genius shone in luculent brilliance,beyond a megastar,in the hey days of his heroic exploits not just as the Dean of Defence,but beyond, as the generalissimo,a Field Marshall and untiring sweat merchant,roving in omnipresent ubiquity across every nook and cranny of the soccer arena,often leaving no stone unturned in the drive to ensure that his darling Super Eagles carried the day at all cost,no matter the daunting odds.

As a seasoned general in the trenches who had led many soccer battles,”Skippoo” as A dokie Amiesimaka often called him in those days, was an inspirational model, a beacon of light, a motivator, a driving force,a lynchpin;pivot, and arrow-head upon which the team revolved in its campaign for dominion.
Above all,Chukwu in his magnanimous large-heartedness,was manifestly detribalised,shunning sectarian differences of any hue.No wonder that as a father-figure,he won the heart of all who placed an implicit trust and confidence in his leadership.

Such was his enigma and his variegated sterling qualities, salutarily converging to making him such an outstanding leader, as signally denotative in his honorific appellation of “Chairman” which as it would turn out,had eternally stuck as his baptismal nomenclature interchangeably contending with his primordial native name.

Chukwu toiled ceaselessly for his dearly cherished nation, utilising his talents; his prodigious sterling endowments and indeed his entire being;to project it to international eminence.Unfortunately all we could accomplish in return,was to pay him back with practically nothing in return.

This was a man who easily stood out in eminently salutary terms, as a special hero and patriot; eminently sui generis amongst the roll call of figures,ever to have presided as Captain of the national team. For a player of his caliber, nothing could have been more apt than honoring him with elevated posts like the Minister of Sports or at worst, NFF Chairmanship,but our lopsided code of reciprocal appreciation was such that would consign him to the punishing drudgery of a ball boy, albeit in the decorative guise of a coach,running around higgledy-piggedly across the field while arrant nonentities, who knew next to nothing would recline in the cosy comfort of their air-conditioned office,unduly calling the shot and dictating to him.

And as if a deliberately calculated fit of sadism,they denied this man his legitimately deserved dues till death.Even the dead in their graves,would not deny how this man cried himself hoarse, with repeatedly umpteeneth times, that NFF had been owing him arrears of his legitimately entitled dues and had never since bothered to pay back to him,for no ostensible reason than their whimsical bent that they simply would not pay.Whereas, were it to be one of these ineffectual mediocre foreign coaches,their package would have already been lodged in their private vault even before asking.

As if to compound the ugly scenario, Chukwu was caught in the debilitating throes of a highly malignant illness,so mortally creeping and imminently life-threatening,that it rendered him bed-ridden.

Indeed looking back, one found it unimaginable as to how a celebrated soccer Ambassador of Chukwu’s caliber could languish in such abysmally parlous helplessness in the face of a frenetic call for help, to chip in urgently needed finances to fly him abroad for emergency attention necessary to address the critical nature of his ailment.

None of the Eastern State governors where the veteran ex- Eagles Skipper,hailed from,would budge, nor their counterparts in other parts of the federation, who in matured ratiocination should expectedly have been animated by the logic that this man actually reached beyond the narrow ken of the geo-political satrap of his native Igbo-land,in an ambassadorial representation of unflagging service to the wider Nigerian nation.Even the callous and highly unfeeling NFF could not for any reason be sufficiently moved enough as to defraying the sum owed the acutely infirm soccer legend who over the years,had selflessly deployed the prime of his youthful life towards a progressive spell of patriotic service to fatherland – let alone go the whole hog of footing the bill in fulfillment of his eager quest for treatment abroad.

More-over,
his fellow fraternity of the “Round Leather Game ” whether actively on the field or retired but still kicking were all there, when the plight of these departed soccer maestro enjoyed a cynosural wattage of maximum media exposure, but none ever cared a hoot, until Femi Otedola, a private man – not government nor a sportsman whether active or retired – ventured to provide the financial breather which eventually saved the situation.

Predictably as usual, it is these very class of hardened core “neglecters”,who now lead, with their theatrical affectation of crocodilean canticles, quite in pattern with their usual artfully perfected later day chief mourners effusion.

Looking back,one recalls,on an admirably exciting note,that the glorious passing of this redoubtable soccer warlord again “torments” us with nostalgic memories of those good old days when the Challenge Cup and the National League,offered such opium that tantalized and teleported the fanatical soccer buff, in those days,leaving them hooked in a delirifacient fit of ecstatic frenzy that irresistibly kept them ever yearning for more.

To be sure,in those days, there were no dull moments.Those were the good old days;which made the exit of this exemplary soccer giant an inexpressibly painful loss.What else can we say,than to take consolation in the fact that our affectionately beloved Chairman had succeeded by his eventfully inspirational trajectory in carving his name in gold in the pantheon of the Immortals.Adieu Chairman.May your great soul rest in peace.

*KOLA JOHNSON IS A WRITER AND JOURNALIST.