By Dr Bassey Emmanuel
A knock on the door, who is it? Pascal asked the second time raising his voice.
I am the one sir, a Senegalese Air Force Officer came in and saluted Pascal
Morning sir! He spoke.
Morning, Pascal responded.
How may I be of help to you? Pascal asked.
Sir, I was asked to inform you that your flight to Nigeria is scheduled for 1600hours today he said.
1600hours today? That is in 5 hours’ time? Pascal asked.
Yes sir, the officer answered.
Ok thank you, Pascal said.
Permission to carry on sir, the officer requested.
Permission granted, Pascal responded.
The Desk with No Trigger – Abuja Defence Headquarters. 15 August. 0800 Hours.
Major Pascal Vincent returns from Geneva to build Nigeria’s Narrative Warfare Unit as directed by the COAS. With Sule by his side, the war becomes words.
The desk was too clean.
No sand, no dust, no blood smudges and no bullet hole in the corner where Sergeant Musa used to tap his pen.
Just polished mahogany, a new HP laptop, and a nameplate:
`MAJ DR P. VINCENT`
`OIC, NARRATIVE WARFARE UNIT`
`DIRECTORATE OF PSYCHOLOGICAL OPERATIONS`
Pascal set his beret down. It looked wrong here. Like a rifle in a church.
A knock.
“Enter,” he said. Force of habit. His voice still pitched for field hospitals.
Lieutenant Kemi Adeyemi stepped in. Starched camouflage, clipboard, eyes that had seen too much for twenty-seven.
“Sir. Your team. Three posted in. Two more incoming from 72 PMB. Orders say you have full recruitment authority.”
Pascal opened the folder. Photos and Bios.
Corporal Musa Sule – 46 Intelligence Detach.
Sergeant Chinedu Okonkwo – 64 Signals Regiment, fluent in Kanuri, Hausa and Arabic.
Lance Corporal Aisha Mahmud – 70 Combat Medic, spoken-word artist.
“The fifth slot is yours, sir,” Kemi said. “COAS said, ‘Give him poets, not just shooters.’”
Pascal closed the folder. “We are not building a unit, Lieutenant. We are building a weapon in human shield”
“Sir?”
He walked to the window. DHQ compound below. Soldiers drilling. Flags snapping. The weather was very friendly as the sun was not yet at it peak.
“In Darfur, I used poems to stop children from killing themselves,” he said. “Here, we’ll use stories to stop Nigerians from killing each other. Boko Haram recruits with videos. We recruit with truth. But truth is a caliber. You must aim it.”
The door banged open without a knock.
“Ah! See this office!” Sule burst in, duffel bag over his shoulder, grin wide as the Niger. “You don upgrade o! Geneva don turn you to big man. Air condition dey blow like harmattan.”
Pascal couldn’t stop the smile. “Sule. You are early.”
“Early? I dey here since 0600hours. Dem say I no fit enter until Oga arrives. I tell the RSM say if he stops me, you go write am poem wey go make am cry.” Sule dropped his bag, looked at the nameplate, whistled. “Narrative Warfare Unit. Eh So we go dey fight with mouth now?”
“We go fight with meaning,” Pascal said. “Sit.”
Sule dragged a chair, spun it, sat backwards. “So wetting be the plan, MPP? You go write poem for Shekau make him surrender?”
Kemi coughed, not knowing the relationship between Corporal Sule and Maj Pascal “Corporal…”
“It’s fine, Lieutenant.” Pascal leaned on the desk. “Sule, in Darfur, a boy called me enemy. But called me brother at the end of the day. One story changed him. What if we had ten thousand stories? What if we got there before the enemy did?”
Sule’s grin faded. He nodded slowly. “You remember El Fasher? That boy wey say ‘why you no let me die’? I still dey dream about am.”
“Me too,” Pascal said. “That’s why we are here. COAS is giving us one mission: “Change the story before the story changes us.”
He opened his notebook. Blood-smudged edges from Darfur. Last page from Geneva:
“The narrative is changing. Because I am changing it.”
“What’s our first target, sir?” Kemi asked.
Pascal looked at Sule. “Find me the angriest 19-year-old in Maiduguri. The one tweeting online about dying for the cause.”
Sule raised an eyebrow. “You want arrest am?”
“We will recruit him,” Pascal said. “With a better story.”
Sule let out a low whistle. “MPP, you no dey fear. You want make we enter the lion den with poetry?”
“I want us to enter with purpose,” Pascal said. “Geneva gave me a medal. Nigeria gave me you.”
Sule stood, snapped a salute that was half-serious, half-Sule. “Corporal Sule, reporting for Narrative Warfare, sir. Just no ask me to write sonnet. I go write diss track instead.” He mimics a song.
Pascal laughed. First real laugh since Darfur. “Diss track is accepted. As long as it saves lives.”
Permission to carry on sir, Sule said and saluted.
Leave me joor, Pascal said amid laughter.
Alone now in the office, Pascal glanced at the wall, the MPP plaque gleamed. Military Personnel Prestige for unwavering integrity.
Pascal touched it once more, saying,
In Sudan, the war followed me. In Geneva, the war led me and now in Abuja, I hunt the war!
I hope you get me that angriest 19-year-old in Maiduguri that is tweeting all over the social media… Pascal said to no one in particular.
Suddenly a Lance Corporal rushed into Pascal’s office panting without the usual military courtesies
My friend!
To be continued…
– Digital Embassy…
soldier changing the Narrative EPISODE10
persistent is a key that silence insult pascal took a bold step, at a time he was walking but I can c him flying
well done Embassy
soldier changing the Narrative EPISODE10
persistence and determination are keys for success, pascal took a bold step, at a time he was walking but I can c him flying
well done Embassy
soldier changing the Narrative EPISODE9
persistence and determination are keys for success, pascal took a bold step, at a time he was walking but I can c him flying
thanks embassy!