The zoning of the presidency of the Ohanaeze Ndigbo to the Igbo-speaking people of Rivers State, and the subsequent emergence of three Ikwerre sons, each claiming to be the new President-General of the apex Igbo sociocultural group, has raised very interesting questions about identity construction. It should be recalled that three Ikwerre sons – Jackson Omenazu, Uche Okwukwu and Senator Azuta Mbata, at different conventions, claimed to have been elected the President-General of the association. In addition to Ikwerre, which is the largest group in Rivers State, other Igbo-speaking groups in the State are Etche, Ekpeye, Ogba, Egbema, Ndoni, Ndoki, Asa, Bonny and Opobo.

Senator Azuta Mbata who was proclaimed elected at a convention organized at the Old Government Lodge, Enugu, on January 10 2025, has been congratulated by a number of eminent Nigerians including former Vice President Atiku Abubakar, Enugu State Governor, Dr. Peter Mbah; South-east senators; Northern Christian Youth Professionals, and the Chief of Staff to Governor Siminalayi Fubara of Rivers State, Dr. Ehie Edison, which confers on him an additional halo of legitimacy to the office.

But there was a quick backlash: the Ogbakor Ikwerre Cultural Organisation Worldwide, which claims to speak in behalf of the Ikwerre ethnic nationality worldwide, disowned him. The group argued that by accepting to be President of Ohanaeze Ndigbo, which it conceded was his constitutional right; he had willingly and freely renounced his membership and identity as an Ikwerre man. They further argued that Senator Azuta Mbata’s decision to identify as an Igbo “does not represent the collective view, will, position, or thinking of the Eneka community, Apara Kingdom, or the entire Ikwerre Ethnic Nationality”. 

There have been suggestions that the decision of Ohanaeze Ndigbo to zone its presidency to the Igbos of Rivers State was part of the Igbo agenda of territorial ambitions. I think suggestions such as this are borne out of either ignorance or mischief. The truth is that the South-east Igbos, like many parts of the country, are themselves also in conversations about their own identity. It is not just about whether they should anchor their identity in Nigeria as presently constituted or have their own country, but also conversations on how to relate with their ‘cousins’ outside the South-east who share the same or similar language with them.

There are for instance those who argue that Ohanaeze Ndigbo should be exclusively for Igbos of South-east – partly to avoid being accused of nurturing territorial ambitions or running after people who do not want to identify with them despite sharing the same or similar language. There are however others who believe that limiting the leadership of Ohanaeze to the Igbos of the South- east would be a disservice to their ‘cousins’ in Delta and Rivers’ States who are proud of their Igbo identity, and want to be identified as such. I think the latter group won the argument which was why in 2008, the Ohanaeze Presidency was zoned to Delta State and Ambassador Ralph Uwechue, from Ogwashiuku, emerged the President-General of the organization. 

It is important to bear in mind that even within the South-east, there are some areas that traced their history or myth of origin outside Igboland and would sometimes not want to be called Igbos. The people of Onitsha in Anambra State would for instance call non-Onitsha Igbos as ‘Nwa Onye Igbo’, meaning the “son or daughter of an Igbo person”. One of the limitations of relying on the myths of origin to construct one’s ethnic identity is that the ethnic group that another group wants to appropriate as its place of origin (usually one that enjoys some historical prestige), would themselves also have their own myth of where they migrated from.

This means that the fact that some Ikwerre people do not want to be identified as Igbo is not really a big deal. It is the same among the Igbo-speaking people of Delta – some would want to identify as Igbos while some will not want to. In Benue and Plateau states for instance, there are conversations and contestations on whether they are better off anchoring their identity in Northern Nigeria or create their own identity as Middle Belt. The same is true of Yorubaland where Yoruba nation activists feel they are better off having an Oduduwa Republic despite the fact that the country’s president, Bola Tinubu, is a Yoruba man.

This trend is not limited to Nigeria. For instance on 14 February 1974, barely 14 years after independence, Somalia joined the Arab League as part of the efforts by the leadership of the country at that time to make Somalis see themselves as Arabs rather than as Africans. It is important to underline that before colonialism, there was no consciousness of being Igbo, Yoruba or Hausa/Fulani. Ethnicity as an identity marker is therefore a recent phenomenon – a practice that was developed in the colonial urban centres. 

The fact that three Ikwerre sons presented themselves for elections as President-General of Ohanaeze, and campaigned vigorously for the office, would challenge the claim by Ogbakor Ikwerre Cultural Organisation Worldwide to be the sole custodians of the aspirations of the Ikwerre people over their choice of ethnic identity. The truth is that such conversations are rarely conclusively decided, and would often mutate in line with the fortunes of the ethnic group which is the focus of the contestation. For instance at a time when the Italians and Irish were discriminated against in the USA, some concealed their ethnic and racial identities but began to proudly flaunt these as Italy and Ireland became economic successes. In the current climate of Igbophobia there are some of our Igbo ‘cousins’ who may fear that anchoring their ethnic identity on Igbo may be a career-killer. Elsewhere, this is called ‘Bleaching complex’ – denying or masking your ethnic/linguistic identity so that it does not inhibit your career progress. 

Of course some Igbo ‘cousins’ outside the South-east who are opposed to anchoring their ethnic identity on the Igbo may have other reasons, including a genuine conviction that they have nothing in common with the Igbos and that their shared language is just an accident of history. Igbo ‘cousins’ who want to anchor their ethnic identity on their Igboness on the other hand may have their own convictions, including the potential benefits of being part of one of the dominant ethnic groups in the country rather than focusing only narrowly on the current state of the Igbos in the country. From an identity perspective, the furore raised by the emergence of an Ikwerre as the President-General of Ohanaeze raises a number of important questions: Who are the Ikwerres? Who do people say they are? Who do they want to be? And why? 

In 2009, I published a very well received edited book on identity, entitled: ‘Who is an African? Identity, Citizenship and the Making of the Africa-nation’. The book had many very known Africanists as contributors, including the late Professor Ali Mazrui, Professor Kwesi Prah, Professor Mammo Muchie and Gamal Nkrumah, the late Kwame Nkrumah’s son. I introduced the book thus: 

Who is an African? At face value, the answer seems obvious. Surely, everyone knows who the African is, it would seem. But the answer becomes less obvious once other probing qualifiers are added to the question. How is the African identity constructed in the face of the mosaic of identities that people of African ancestry living within and beyond the continent bear? Do all categorised as Africans or as having an African pedigree perceive themselves as Africans? Are all who perceive themselves as Africans accepted as such? Are there levels of “Africanness”, and are some more African than others? How does African identity interface with other levels of identity and citizenship in Africa? And what are the implications of the contentious nature of African identity and citizenship for the projects of pan-Africanism, the making of the Africa-nation, and Africa’s development trajectories?

Flowing from the above, there are some elements in identity construction that we should bear in mind: One, every individual or group embodies a mosaic of identities, not just one identity. You may have people with different ethnic and religious identities but share several other identities in common such as being members of the same political party, the same sports club, the same profession, the same gender etc. Essentially, one can be both Igbo and Ikwerre if the person feels sufficiently anchored on both identities.

Two, identities that are perceived to be under threat will often be the ones most vociferously defended. Though we embody several identities, if your identity as an Igbo, Yoruba, Ikwerre, Christian, Muslim, an academic and so on, is perceived to be threatened, your other identities will be submerged while you defend the identity that is felt to be under threat. For instance a Black person called ‘Black Monkey’ by a White person may lead to several Black people from across the world responding very vigorously, if not violently. On the other hand, a White person who is called a ‘White monkey’ may not elicit a similar response among the White people.

Following from this, it is understandable why the Ogbakor Ikwerre Cultural Organisation Worldwide decided to descend hard on Senator Azuta-Mbata including literarily ex-communicating him from the Ikwerre community and nullifying any chieftaincy title conferred on him by any of the Ikwerre communities. Does the organization really have such powers over any Ikwerre person? I seriously doubt that. The hard-line position of Ogbakor Ikwerre Cultural Organisation Worldwide may be more to remind us that despite the election of Senator Azuta-Mbata as President General of Ohanaeze Ndigbo, the conversation on where the Ikwerres should anchor their ethnic identity remains inconclusive. 

Three, identities have both time and space dimensions. Up to the creation of the 12 states by Gowon in 1967, both the Ikwerres and the Igbos shared the identity of being from the Eastern region. In the same vein, if the Ikwerres were to find themselves in a distant country with people of different ethnic and racial backgrounds, including the Igbos of the South-East, they are likely to feel more connected to the latter than to other groups in the imagined country simply by virtue of their common (or similar language) and culture.