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Let me tell you just a fraction of what my dad told me because he doesn’t like talking about it. His mum died in that war. His siblings and his dad survived on grass, plants anything that grew from the ground for months. Even after the war was over, all grown and married https://twitter.com/k_u_n_l_e/status/1318699112196304896
When his wife and little me would go to the village to visit grand dad with food stuffs, cans of milk and beverages , my granddad will start digging the ground to hide the food stuffs we brought him. Something that he’s supposed to open , eat and enjoy. He was burying them
You see what PTSD does? Till his last day he acted like he was still in that war and suffering, burying every good thing given to him cause he probably felt like he needed to save it for rainy days. I think that war affected his physch & that’s just the small thing I was told
Till today I do not understand a single thing in Igbo or have an Igbo accent. I always get mad at my dad for not teaching me cause when we were younger all he’d say is “learn English” I’m taking you to school. Go and learn English it’s probably the trauma. Sigh 
And then all these insensitive people that should understand always made me feel worse for not understanding Igbo, some old Igbo men and women would ask me why I can’t speak or understand Igbo and when I say I wasn’t thought they start throwing jabs when they should understand
If I say I can’t speak Igbo or you speak Igbo to me and I don’t respond please just keep it moving. Don’t ask me silly questions just dey go your way make I Dey go my way.
