Posted by Chidinma Akpamgbo on Facebook
The pain of losing a parent is unbearable, but nothing prepares you for the agony of losing a father in such a cruel, confusing, and heartbreaking way. Nothing prepares you for the torture of never seeing his body… never laying him to rest… never getting answers.
My 70-year-old father was taken by UGM, and they never returned him to us — not even his remains.
Till today, I still grieve like it happened yesterday. Sometimes, he appears to me in dreams. Each time I ask him where they bur!ed him, his response remains the same:
“They threw me away.”
And before I can say another word, he walks away, refusing to show me his face. He shows me how he was t0rtured… but never allows me to see him fully. The pain is indescribable.
The Day Everything Changed
He was taken from our home on September 7, 2023. That was the last time any of us saw him.
And the reason?
Because he advised one of those boys to change his ways.
Because he told them the truth.
Because they saw him as someone “aga!nst” them.
My father — a peaceful, gentle civil servant who served his country for decades in Abuja. A man who built his life with integrity and decided to return home in his old age so he could spend his final years among his people.
He didn’t deserve this end.
The Pain Cuts Deeper Because of Who He Was
My father was once the best footballer in his area during his youth.
He survived the Civil War. He suffered kwashiorkor, lived in bushes, even fed on rodents — yet he survived it all.
He loved Ojukwu. He loved Biafra. He believed in the dignity of the Igbo people — perhaps because of everything he experienced.
How heartbreaking, then, that the same people who claim to be fighting for us were the ones who kpaid him.
And even worse — the same small boys he always gave money, food, and fatherly advice.
A Daughter’s Endless Grief
I am the first child. The only daughter.
And I have never been able to lay my father to rest.
No grave. No body. No closure.
People who have never lost anyone in this Southeast cr!s!s will never understand the pain we carry every single day.
Sometimes I wonder how he was kpaid… if he begged… if they t0rtured him…
Other times I pray his BP rose and he passed before they could hurt him.
Sometimes I beg God that they only sh0t him once so he didn’t suffer too much.
It is the kind of torment you wouldn’t wish on an enemy.
Betrayed By Those Who Should Have Stood With Us
What hurts me the most is how my own brothers broke me during this period — in ways I may never fully heal from.
Losing a father is painful.
Losing him without closure is torture.
Losing him and still facing betrayal is shattering.
This Is the Pain Many Southeast Families Carry Silently
Until you lose someone this way, you will never understand.
My father survived war, hunger, hardship — only to be taken by those who claim to defend the land.
And we — his children — may never know where his body lies.
I am still grieving.
I may never stop.
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