ABSTRACT
I was parish priest of Uli, Nigeria, in 1968. It was there, more than 30 years ago, during the Biafra/Nigeria civil war, that I had my first experience in the delivery of humanitarian aid and health services under conflict conditions. The eastern region of Nigeria had seceded as Biafra and the federal Nigerian government was sparing no effort to reintegrate the oil-rich breakaway region. Uli, a rural townland deep in Biafra, became the epicenter of a massive relief operation. The road just outside my parish residence was widened to make an airstrip. All flying was at night, and the planes had to run the gauntlet of the federal Nigerian forces. With vastly superior firepower, they were steadily squeezing and reducing Biafran-held territory. Uli Airport found a place on the world map. By October 1968 it had become the busiest airport in Africa. On some nights it handled as many as 50 planes. My parish church became a feeding center. Sermons were exhortations to eat mice, cockroaches and cassava leaves. Parish duties gave way to airport duties.
