By SCM Staff Writer, SE
AWKA, Anambra – Renowned Nigerian human rights lawyer and lead counsel to the Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB), Sir Ifeanyi Ejiofor, has expressed deep concern over the persistent inability of Igbo political elites to speak with one voice on issues of strategic importance to the region.
Ejiofor, in his Weekend Musing titled “Igbo Self-Imposed Political Servitude: The Unburied Ghost of the Civil War and Why Our Political Trajectory Must Change,” lamented that decades after the Nigerian Civil War, Igbo political leadership remains fractured, timid, and largely incapable of articulating or defending the collective destiny of the Igbo nation.
He stated that his extensive research and observation reveal a troubling pattern,the chronic failure of Igbo elites to unite around common causes that would deliver tangible political, economic, and social benefits to the region.
According to him, the roots of this dysfunction can be traced directly to the aftermath of the civil war that ended in 1970, whose psychological and political scars, he argued, still weigh heavily on Ndi Igbo.
Ejiofor noted that it is exceedingly rare—almost miraculous—to witness Igbo political leaders rise in disciplined and principled unison to confront injustice or advance shared regional interests. Instead, he observed, what dominates the political landscape is a self-serving aristocracy fixated on “crumbs from the master’s table” appointments, contracts, advisory roles, and symbolic relevance mistakenly presented as political achievements.
He criticized what he described as a culture of transactional politics, where personal survival takes precedence over collective progress.
According to Ejiofor, many Igbo politicians have perfected the art of personal empire-building while presiding over a region plagued by mass unemployment, underutilized talent, collapsing infrastructure, and a generation of frustrated, disillusioned youths.
Ejiofor also called for the deliberate retirement of what he termed an “exhausted generation of political buccaneers”elites whose only ideology is self-preservation and whose only enduring legacy is the accumulation of wealth for generations unborn.
He argued that such leadership has failed not only politically but morally and historically.
The IPOB lawyer noted that what the Igbo nation urgently requires is not a recycling of the same political actors with new slogans, but a fundamentally new political template—one intentionally designed to produce young, cultured, ideologically grounded, and historically conscious leaders capable of redefining Igbo political engagement within Nigeria and beyond.
According to Ejiofor, Ndi Igbo need leaders who love their people more than their pockets; leaders who understand that a good name outlives money, that legacy outlives luxury, and that true leadership is rooted in sacrifice, courage, and service—not in auctioning principles for temporary gain.
The statement reads in full:
History is a stubborn archivist. It never forgets, even when a people desperately wish it would.
I have, over time, subjected the conduct of the Igbo political class to careful scrutiny: their instincts, their silences, their convenient outrage, their selective courage, and their tragic inability to speak with one voice on matters that directly affect the collective destiny of the Igbo nation. What emerges from this examination is neither accidental nor coincidental. It is patterned. It is consistent. And it is deeply revealing.
At the root of this pattern lies a truth many would rather whisper than confront: the Nigerian Civil War ended in 1970, but its stigma did not. The guns fell silent; the psychological chains did not.
Today, it is rare, almost miraculous, to witness Igbo political leaders rise in disciplined unison to defend a common Igbo cause that carries tangible benefits for the region. Instead, what we see is a political aristocracy eternally preoccupied with crumbs from the master’s table, crumbs dressed up as appointments, contracts, advisory roles, and fleeting relevance.
This is not always born out of deliberate malice. No. It is worse than that. It is the aftershock of defeat psychology, the internalisation of loss, the quiet erosion of esteem, the unspoken fear of collective assertion. The war may be history, but its stigma remains operational.
This explains why every itinerant demagogue, ethnic jingoist, or political charlatan can publicly diminish Igbo identity, insult Igbo sensibilities, and mock Igbo aspirations, only to later be welcomed in private dinners and backroom negotiations by Igbo elites themselves. We protest in public, negotiate in secret, and smile at those who spit on our collective dignity.
Contrast this with other regions of Nigeria. They quarrel internally, yes, but when it comes to collective interest, they close ranks. Their elites may fight, but never against their own strategic relevance. They understand power as a continuum, not a lottery.
The tragedy of the Igbo experience is this: it is on Igbo soil that an Igbo elite most enthusiastically becomes an instrument of external domination, so long as his personal comfort is guaranteed. Personal survival has replaced collective survival; individual advancement has eclipsed group destiny.
One must therefore ask, without sentimentality or political correctness; on what strategic calculation does a region so united in disunity, so fragmented in purpose, hope to produce a President of Nigeria? A people who cannot agree on a common agenda at home cannot command consensus abroad. Under the present trajectory, the prospect is not merely remote; it is illusory, perhaps for decades to come.
The uncomfortable truth is this: Igbos are not merely victims of political marginalisation; they are, to a significant extent, architects of their own predicament. Other regions did not impose this fragmentation on us. They simply exploited it, strategically, intelligently, and without apology.
This is why the urgent task before us is not rhetorical agitation but political house-cleaning.
It is time, long overdue, to retire this exhausted generation of political buccaneers and transactional elites whose only ideology is self-preservation and whose only legacy is accumulated wealth for generations unborn. They have mastered the art of personal empire-building while presiding over a region of unemployed, underutilised, and disillusioned youths.
What the Igbo nation needs is not recycled politicians with fresh slogans, but a new political template, one that deliberately produces young, cultured, ideologically grounded, and historically conscious leaders.
Leaders who love their people more than their pockets. Leaders who understand that a good name outlives money, that legacy outlives luxury, and that leadership is sacrifice, not auction.
This is why I often smile, sometimes with pity, sometimes with irony, when I hear casual conversations about “Igbo presidency,” “our turn,” or “our right.” I ask myself: are we living in the same Nigeria? Are we observing the same political equations? Entitlement without internal cohesion is a fantasy; ambition without strategy is noise.
The first assignment of the new Igbo generation is not Abuja, it is home. We must first confront our internal contradictions, realign our priorities, debate honestly, and agree on what we truly want as a people before marching into the national arena waving banners of entitlement.
Yes, the civil war fundamentally altered Igbo psychology, our confidence, our posture, our collective assertiveness. The lingering inferiority complex, the fractured esteem, the politics of caution, these are the real enemies. Until they are exorcised, progress will remain cosmetic.
The day Igbo youths fully realise that the destiny of their race lies squarely in their own hands, and deliberately subordinate personal convenience to collective survival, that day political exploitation will end. That day, the old order will collapse, not by violence, but by irrelevance.
Today, the average Igbo youth is still dangerously susceptible to manipulation, ethnic baiting, emotional triggers, empty promises. But history is patient. A time will come when clarity replaces confusion, when discernment defeats deception.
Until then, the mission is clear: the peaceful but permanent retirement of these political profiteers through legitimate democratic means. They have outlived their usefulness. The future cannot be negotiated by those invested in the past.
