Last Friday, May 30, the South-East’s people celebrated the annual Biafra (Heroes’) Day. It was smudged by a regrettable sit-at-home protest, which has done incalculable harm to the South-East’s economy.
It also coincided with the appearance of Simon Ekpa, a Nigerian-Finnish citizen, who is facing trial for his alleged promotion of acts of terrorism in his native Igboland. Shockingly, the ‘warrior’ Ekpa, self-styled prime minister of the government of Biafra in exile, denied his very shadows, claiming instead that he was a content creator.
Imagine that! Creating content with the blood of innocent Igbo people wasted on his orders and the enforcement of the sit-at-home regime? One had expected his vaulting bravado to continue even in court, where he faces a prospective six-year imprisonment. Alas, he chickened out, yet some misguided people still follow him.
The story of the Igbo is one of profound complexity, resilience and cultural brilliance. It is a story carved from a history of colonial disruption, economic ascendancy, civil war devastation and post-conflict marginalisation. Yet, it is also a narrative pulsing with hope; a testament to the enduring spirit of a people determined not only to survive but to thrive. Therefore, the idea of Biafra is a beautiful dream and offers hope to a people quashed by successive governments in Nigeria.
Before colonialism redrew the map of Africa, the Igbo were a decentralised but sophisticated society. Their governance systems, often republican, operated through village assemblies and age-grade systems. They boasted vibrant economies anchored in trade, craftsmanship and agriculture. The British incursion upended these structures, forcibly integrating them into an artificial Nigerian state without their consent.
Their poor treatment in Nigeria is the result of a complex interplay of historical grievances, political fear, ethnic rivalry and systemic marginalisation, which sparked a deadly pogrom against Igbo people in Northern Nigeria. Following the failed efforts at reconciliation, the Eastern Region declared the state of Biafra as an unavoidable escape route from programmed annihilation.
Nothing has defined modern Igbo identity more than the Biafran War of 1967 – 1970. The war was brutal. Over a million people, mostly Igbo civilians, perished, many from starvation due to a blockade imposed by the Nigerian government. Images of emaciated Biafran children shocked the cold world, which did little to shift the political dynamics. The war ended with Biafra’s surrender, and the Nigerian government declared a policy of “No victor, no vanquished.”
Yet the reality has been more intricate. Post-war Nigeria instituted policies that further alienated the Igbo: Economic disenfranchisement through the £20 policy, disproportionate military purges, and deliberate infrastructural neglect of the South-East.
The Igbo are assertive, entrepreneurial and capable of rallying for leadership positions. This has bred political fear among ruling elites, especially from the North, who worry about losing power and control if the Igbo gain federal dominance. As a result, no Igbo person has been President of Nigeria since the war, and key appointments in the Federal Government systematically exclude the South-East.
Nigeria’s structure encourages zero-sum politics where ethnic groups compete for access to federal power and resources. Since independence, power has rotated largely between the North and the South-West and they gloat by conduct and speech over the South-East, which is one of the country’s most productive regions. This uneven distribution of power creates a system where the Igbo are often seen as outsiders in the national equation.
Nigeria’s leadership is firmly committed to keeping the country united. Thus, any call for Biafra is treated as a threat to national integrity. But, paradoxically, while denying secession, the Federal Government also fails to genuinely integrate the Igbo through fair representation or development. This “neither in nor out” stance keeps the Igbo in a position of perpetual marginalisation.
Movements like the Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB) have reignited calls for Biafra. While rooted in real grievances, their rhetoric has sometimes been militant or inflammatory, giving the government an excuse to crack down harshly. This reinforces a cycle of grievances, leading to protests that are met with more force. The crackdown fuels more resentment and radicalism.
The IPOB and like organisations are direct responses to the Nigerian state’s continued pernicious policies against the Igbo. Not every Igbo is in support of their tactics but are also cowed into silence.
Nigeria refuses to allow Biafra to preserve national unity but fails to embrace the Igbo as equal partners in that unity. It is a contradiction rooted in fear, mistrust and power politics, not just history. Until the country addresses structural inequality and ethnic bias, this contradiction will continue to fuel agitation and alienation.
Despite these setbacks, the Igbo have rebounded impressively. Today, they remain among the most industrious and entrepreneurial ethnic groups in Africa. Cities like Nnewi, Aba and Onitsha are hubs of innovation and informal manufacturing, contributing significantly to Nigeria’s economy.
They are excelling even in uncharted fields and being celebrated across the globe. Igbo individuals dominate in sectors ranging from technology to medicine and from academia to entertainment. This economic and intellectual vitality has become a form of quiet resistance, a refusal to be marginalised.
Yet, the underlying grievances remain. Federal appointments routinely bypass qualified Igbo candidates. Infrastructure in the South-east lags, as the zone is roundly denied projects, even funded by loans they follow to repay. Security challenges, from rampaging herdsmen and suspicious armed banditry to state-sanctioned crackdowns on dissent, have exacerbated feelings of exclusion. The call for secession by the IPOB et al is not merely about nostalgia for Biafra but a reaction to perceived systemic injustice. The Biafra agitation is a protest against sundry malfeasance of Nigeria against the Igbo rather than a desire for a separate homeland.
Politically, the Igbo have long felt sidelined in Nigeria’s power-sharing arrangements. The principle of federal character, meant to ensure fair representation, has often been applied selectively to the exclusion of the Igbo.
This has created a political paradox. While the Igbo are indispensable to Nigeria’s unity and economic vitality, they are often treated as outsiders in the corridors of power.
The Igbo future in Nigeria is fraught with challenges but also rich with promise. A Nigeria that works for the Igbo works for all. That is what the Igbo are asking for, not for any privileged perks, just fairness to all.
Several inspirational self-efforts are sowing the seeds for a bottom-up transformation that could redefine the South-east and inspire broader national change. These provide alternatives to Federal Government failure in the region.
Education remains a cornerstone of Igbo advancement. Continued investment in schools, vocational training, and digital literacy will empower the next generation to compete in a globalised economy while staying rooted in their identity.
Yet, even in the education sector, Nigeria deserves international shame for how it treats brilliant Igbo students. A policy where a student of Igbo extraction scores as high as 300 marks is denied admission, whereas a student from the North with less than 100 marks gets admission is inexplicable. Nigeria is biting its nose to spite the Igbo; the laugh is on Nigeria, and the amused world is laughing in guffaws at this foolery.
A growing recognition among Igbo leaders and intellectuals that engagement, not isolation, is the path forward is heartwarming. While the wounds of Biafra may never fully heal, they need not define the future. Dialogue, coalition-building, and strategic advocacy can pave the way for meaningful reform.
The Igbo journey from Biafra to today has moved from memory to momentum. It is emblematic of both pain and promise. It is a history steeped in suffering but animated by an unyielding desire for dignity, justice, and progress. As Nigeria confronts existential questions about its structure, identity, and future, the Igbo voice must not only be heard but also heeded, fully conscious that no power can claim the Igbo; they are the products of God’s covenant.
While the Igbo continue to navigate complex political and economic landscapes, effective unity among Igbo leaders is essential to harness the region’s potential and address longstanding grievances. In embracing both the weight of history and the winds of change, the Igbo can lead not just in commerce or culture but in crafting a new Nigerian story; one where no group is left behind, and every citizen finds belonging.
The Igbo future, like their past, will be shaped by the courage to remember and the vision to rise.