
I have been told—derisively—that anyone who does not know where he is coming from cannot know where he is going. The implication is that my call for Igbos to shelve the Biafran project in favour of a pan-Nigerian struggle for good governance is shallow and ahistorical. I disagree, and history itself disagrees.
Let us be honest about where we are coming from.
Before the civil war, Igbos were not outsiders in Nigeria. We were at the very centre of power. Igbos constituted about 60% of the top echelon of the Federal Civil Service and a significant portion of the officer corps of the Nigerian military. In the First Republic, over 40% of Tafawa Balewa’s cabinet were Igbo. An Igbo man was Governor-General of Nigeria. An Igbo man was Senate President. An Igbo man administered Lagos, the most important city in the country.
So I ask: Is where we are coming from exclusion—or leadership?
Now let us move to after the civil war, which is often presented as the permanent rupture that justifies eternal withdrawal. In the Second Republic, an Igbo man was Vice President under Shagari. An Igbo man was Speaker of the House of Representatives. In the Fourth Republic, an Igbo man was Senate President under Obasanjo.
Again, I ask: Is our historical identity one of permanent defeat—or recurring national leadership?
Fast forward to 2023. With Peter Obi, Igbos and their allies achieved something unprecedented since 1999: a cross-ethnic, youth-driven, national movement built on competence, fairness, and accountability. That movement shook the foundations of Nigeria’s rotten political order. It proved—conclusively—that the Igbo cause advances fastest when it is framed as a Nigerian cause, not an ethnic withdrawal.
So why, in the face of worsening conditions under Buhari’s bigotry and Tinubu’s even more brazen ethnic capture, should wisdom suddenly mean retreat? Why should the correct response to exclusion be self-exile? Why should we abandon the vast political ground we have won and hand Nigeria back to those who thrive on division?
The Biafra mentality, especially as it hardened under Buhari, is not a strategy of strength; it is a psychology of defeat. It shrinks Igbo ambition from shaping Nigeria to escaping it. Yet history shows that whenever Igbos engage Nigeria confidently, rationally, and nationally, we rise—and the country moves forward with us.
Knowing where we are coming from does not mean freezing ourselves in the trauma of the civil war. It means recognizing that our true historical position is leadership, not isolation. And knowing where we are going means understanding that Nigeria will not be reformed by withdrawal, but by sustained, courageous, pan-Nigerian struggle for justice, equity, and competent leadership.
Running back to Biafra is not remembrance.
It is surrender.
And history has never rewarded the Igbo for surrendering ambition.
Published by Ejoh Caleb

