The cultural practices of the Igbo often proceed from allegiance to culture and clan. Wherever they are, they often seek ways to foster social interaction and integration, which is found in the Igbo saying, “Igwe bụ ike”—group/crowd is strength.
By Chimezie Chika
I
I used to be a member of my local government association during my years at Imo State University. It was an organisation—a sort of cultural melting pot—that brought IMSU students from my local government, Njaba, under one umbrella, for brotherhood and social (and sometimes economic) support. The Njaba Students Union in IMSU, as it was called, was structured just like any other such organisation: there was a president, vice-president, a secretary, a treasurer, etc.
The semblance of a quasi-political structure here does not automatically translate to any strange idea that the organisation wants to usurp the university board or the Vice Chancellor and his cabinet. That there was a “President” in the Njaba Students Union does not mean that he or she is somehow threatening the position of the federal presidency of the Federal Republic of Nigeria.
Many student cultural organisations in IMSU did not identify their leaders by the title of “president” et al. Several such organisations often choose to operate a microcosm traditional system, in which the organisation’s leadership is identified by traditional titles peculiar to their region or people.
Thus, the Njaba organisation’s president, during its cultural day, is usually coronated as Eze or “King” and the organisation’s functionaries become members of his cabinet. We will not try to analyse how these grassroots level mock structure might be the origins of malfeasance and the megalomaniac tendencies of the political class; but, to keep to the topic at hand, I will point out that this kingship does not replace the real recognised kings of the different towns that make up Njaba LGA; the student kingship is only valid within the confines of the student organisation.
And herein is the fundamental issue that many people outside Igbo (and sometimes Nigerian) cultural space fail to understand: the ways in which the leadership structures of associations, town union organisations, co-operatives, and interest groups across Nigeria (especially amongst the Igbo) are structured often mirror the traditional political hierarchies in their places of origin. They are mostly for symbolic reasons, not a substantive political position, and they do not, in any way, supplant the political set-up of their host communities.
The history of these associations—town union associations, for instance—can be traced back to the early twentieth century. Research by Chiedozie Ifeanyichukwu Atuonwu in Canadian Social Science described town unions as associations formed by a group of people from the same areas. This is more or less the same principle that guides other similarly named and functioning organisations, such as abroad groups, market/traders associations, etc. One remarkable function of these organisations is their contributions to community development back home—a role widely noted in academic scholarship.
In particular, a 2023 study by Amadi and Olewe noted that town unions are socio-political organisations whose impact on community development has been a feature of postcolonial Nigeria. They also observe that these associations are, in the main, self-help organisations geared towards either community or individual well-being, as the case may be. The point is that such associations are brought together by the common interest of the same town origin, the same country or tribal origin, the same occupation, etc, and their goals function within the confines of those interests.
It is rather sad that in 2026, an explanation is being given for the activities of a harmless and benign social organisation of the kind discussed so far. A week ago, another xenophobic sentiment in South Africa decried an Igbo organisation’s crowning of an Igbo “king” in the Eastern Cape city of East London. Within hours of the event, a violent protest erupted in which South Africans—interpreting the event as an attempt to usurp extant South African traditions—torched and pillaged properties purportedly owned by Nigerians, demanding immediate government intervention in the matter and the deportation of those involved.
In its response, the Nigerian High Commission in South Africa rightly described the coronation event as “symbolic” rather than political. It stressed that there is often a tendency to misrepresent cultural celebrations outside Nigeria as political acts, noting that such Igbo cultural displays —including new yam festival (Iri ji), traditional marriage (Igba nkwu), masquerade celebrations (mmanwu)—are mere ceremonial displays of culture that have no intent to dismantle already existing culture in host communities.
The Nigerian Deputy High Commissioner noted, “They are just there to celebrate their cultural activity. It is not a political institution or a traditional institution.”
One of the most significant points noted in the statement is the absence of territorial ambitions or any political authority by these Igbo organisations in their host communities or host country. It seems to me that such confusion is perhaps a failure of intelligence services in a country like South Africa. A simple research would have quickly clarified the confusion and averted the destruction of properties.
II
Historically, the majority of Igboland had no kings, for they operated a republican system whose political structure is propped by representative or deputation democracy. The only outliers in this broadly uniform structure are the ancient Nri Kingdom, whose King functioned as a sort of Priest-King; Onitsha, which borrowed some of its culture from Benin; and clans and communities in the western reaches of Igboland, many of which are Nri offsprings who had also come in contact with vestiges of Benin culture.
Kingship became a substantial institution in Igboland when the British, seeking the easiest way to enforce their infamous Indirect Rule system, introduced the position of warrant chiefs. In this system, certain individuals loyal to British rule were issued “warrants” to lord it over their people as “kings”.
In many cases, these warrant kings were unheard of among the local people, and it didn’t help that the British often gave the position to individuals who were seen as sellouts, British stooges, or worse. The result was that the warrant chiefs were widely unpopular. They had no traditional authority, even if they possessed a political one (although this would change over the last century).
By the time the paramount chiefs achieved legitimate traditional authority, they lost the majority of their political authority in the postcolonial era. Presently, the authority of the paramount chiefs is resident in the communities they preside over. Even then, their authorities are mainly traditional. Any political authority they might still exercise is completely overridden by the local and state governments. This means that limitations abound to what extent the majority of Igbo kings can exercise any kind of authority whatsoever. Their roles are as custodians of the culture and traditions of their people; those roles are customary and ceremonial.
The Igbo, a quintessentially outgoing people, have a tendency to mirror the cultures and traditions of their own people wherever they go. When they travel to other countries and regions, they usually form town unions or similar Igbo social associations amongst their diaspora kins, to foster social association and integration, and to affirm their ethnic and cultural identity. There is no place where the Igbo are sojourning anywhere in the world where such organisations do not exist.
As I have earlier iterated, these organisations seek to mirror traditional structures back home in their internal leadership. They would crown a “king” (Eze/Igwe) and a Queen (Lolo) and create cabinets, amongst others. They would host traditional ceremonies during the right months in the Igbo calendar, such as Iri Ji, Mmanwu, and others.
All these are simply social and cultural activities that keep the diaspora community grounded. It need not be said that these association kings are without kingdoms, and their princes are without principalities, for they have no political or traditional substance outside the socio-cultural organisations they ceremonially head.
The title of “Eze Ndi Igbo na (insert town, city or country)” is an extremely symbolic one. A disambiguation of the title down to the preposition na illustrates its extremely limited significance. It shows that it is largely a private affair, concerning only the members of the particular organisation. The king’s authority is confined to the rules and agreements that govern such organisations. Outside of it, he is a mere individual.
Back home, too, they hold no political or traditional authority. In cases where they do hold the latter, they are clearly spelt out to be effective only in their community of origin, not outside of it.
The cultural practices of the Igbo often proceed from allegiance to culture and clan. Wherever they are, they often seek ways to foster social interaction and integration, which is found in the Igbo saying, “Igwe bụ ike”—group/crowd is strength. An understanding of these practices should dispel any future fears of clandestine territorial expansion.
Chimezie Chika is a staff writer at Afrocritik. His short stories and essays have appeared in or are forthcoming from, amongst other places, The Weganda Review, The Republic, The Iowa Review, Terrain.org, Isele Magazine, Lolwe, Fahmidan Journal, Efiko Magazine, Dappled Things, and Channel Magazine. He is the fiction editor of Ngiga Review. His interests range from culture, history, to art, literature, and the environment. You can find him on X @chimeziechika1