Do you have children? In many families, among siblings, there is often one child who gives the most concern. It may be the last born or the middle child. Interestingly, that same child who quarrels the most is also often the loudest to complain. He has his own toys but insists on taking those of others. When he grabs them and they try to retrieve what is theirs, he cries and rolls on the floor as though he is the victim. At school, he wants the seat that belongs to another child. If he cannot have it, he protests loudly.
It is a difficult comparison, but one must ask: have we, as the Igbo people, begun to reflect this pattern within Nigeria?
At independence, Nigeria offered enormous opportunities to the Igbo. We rose quickly in commerce, education, and public service. However, history took a dramatic turn with the 1966 coup and its aftermath. Leaders from other regions were killed. Celebrations followed in some quarters, but retaliation soon came. The country descended into suspicion and violence. What followed was the tragic Nigerian Civil War, led on the secessionist side by Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu. The war cost over a million Igbo lives. It remains one of the darkest chapters in our history.
Yet we must ask ourselves difficult questions. War is never without consequences. Did we fully weigh the cost? After the war ended, reintegration began. In the Second Republic, Alex Ekwueme served as Vice President of Nigeria from 1979 to 1983. Since then, Igbo sons and daughters have occupied many strategic and influential positions across the nation, in business, academia, public service, and industry, even if the presidency has remained elusive.
Still, a narrative of constant victimhood persists. We trade and thrive in cities like Lagos and Kano, yet complaints of rejection and hatred are frequent. This raises an uncomfortable but necessary question: do others truly hate us, or have we sometimes nurtured resentment within ourselves and projected it outward?
Internal divisions among Igbo states such as Anambra State, Imo State, and Ebonyi State often reveal tensions that cannot be blamed on outsiders. If unity is fragile at home, how can trust be easily built abroad?
In recent political seasons, emotions have run high. During the 2023 presidential election, support for Peter Obi was passionate and widespread among Igbos. Political enthusiasm is healthy in a democracy, but when disagreement becomes hostility and fellow citizens are labeled enemies for exercising their choice, it deepens division rather than strengthens collective influence. The repeated calls for secession and the agitation surrounding figures like Nnamdi Kanu reflect unresolved frustrations, yet they also reveal a community still searching for clarity about its long-term strategy within Nigeria.
This reflection is not written to condemn but to enlighten. Growth begins with honest self-assessment. No nation or ethnic group advances by clinging permanently to grievance. Influence is sustained not by anger, but by strategic thinking, unity, emotional intelligence, and constructive engagement.
Perhaps it is time to move beyond the posture of complaint and toward the posture of responsibility. If we truly desire greater national leadership and trust, then our attitudes must inspire confidence. Power gravitates toward those perceived as fair, stable, and inclusive.
The future of the Igbo in Nigeria will not be secured by endless lamentation, nor by internal rivalry, nor by suspicion of others. It will be secured by unity at home, wisdom in politics, and excellence in contribution to the broader Nigerian project.
By Ugoji Maximillian
