Chief Solomon Ogbonna Eziko, Eastern Cape, South Africa
From Fred Chukwuelobe
Chinua Achebe once wrote The Trouble with Nigeria. Today, one is tempted to speak of a different, narrower concern: the growing controversy surrounding the conduct of some Igbo groups in the diaspora, not the Igbo nation itself, but a troubling pattern among certain actors abroad. Let me title mine “The Trouble with ‘Eze Ndi Igbo’ in the Diaspora.”
The latest example of such absurdity is the alleged coronation of Chief Solomon Ogbonna Eziko in Eastern Cape, South Africa. Local authorities have described it as “an unlawful, self-styled action that violates South African law.” It has led to riots, burning, looting, and probably loss of lives.
At the centre of this issue is the amorphous title “Eze Igbo” (or “Eze Ndi Igbo”), literally meaning “King of the Igbo.” On the surface, there may seem to be nothing wrong with a people organising themselves or choosing leaders wherever they reside. But this is precisely where the problem begins: the institution of an “Eze” outside Igbo land is not rooted in Igbo tradition. It is, in fact, a distortion, an aberration that has gained traction among a class of self-styled elites, some of whom wield questionable wealth and influence. I can say this unequivocally that those who indulge in this self-styled title are typically money bags whose source of wealth is suspect and questionable. To them, money can buy anything. If they can’t force themselves on their respective communities, they resort to clout chasing abroad.
Historically, Igbo communities are republican in structure. Leadership, both at home and in the diaspora, is collective and elective, typically vested in chairmen or presidents of town unions and associations. Where affinities exist, federations emerge, still guided by elected officials. Each community has an association with its executives. The respective states of the South East geopolitical region have their state unions. For example, Anambra communities resident in Lagos operate under the umbrella of the Association of Anambra State Development Unions (AASDU), while in the United States there is the Anambra State Association (ASA). These bodies are led by presidents and function without controversy or conflict with host authorities. There is no cultural precedent for crowning a monarch over Igbo people in foreign lands. That is the crux of the problem with the “Eze Igbo” title.
In recent years, attempts have been made to impose this alien structure in parts of South-West Nigeria, in Ghana, and now in South Africa. These moves have not only sparked internal discord but have also generated tension with host communities. The coronation of individuals under such contentious titles is often perceived – rightly or wrongly – as an assertion of parallel authority, an affront to local sovereignty, and a disregard for the customs and laws of host societies.
One must ask: what purpose does this serve? Why persist in a practice that repeatedly provokes suspicion, resentment, and, in extreme cases, unrest? From Ghana to South Africa, the pattern is disturbingly consistent; controversy, backlash, and damage to the broader reputation of Igbo people who are otherwise law-abiding, industrious, and respectful of their hosts.
The danger here is twofold. First, it feeds into existing prejudices and xenophobic sentiments, particularly in places like South Africa, where tensions involving foreign nationals have, at times, escalated into violence. Second, it unfairly tarnishes an entire ethnic group through the actions of a few, thereby undermining decades of goodwill built by hardworking Igbo men and women across the globe.
It must be clearly stated: there is nothing wrong with Igbo communities abroad organising themselves, electing leaders, and promoting their welfare. What is objectionable is the adoption of titles and structures that contradict Igbo culture while simultaneously encroaching on the sensitivities of host societies.
The time has come for introspection and restraint. Igbo socio-cultural bodies, particularly Ohanaeze Ndigbo, must provide clear guidance and, where necessary, impose sanctions against this growing trend. Diaspora communities should formally discourage, if not outright prohibit, the use of the “Eze Igbo” title outside Igbo land.
Respect for one’s host is not a sign of weakness; it is a mark of wisdom. Cultural pride must never become cultural imposition. If anything, the strength of the Igbo lies in adaptability, enterprise, and a republican ethos that thrives without the need for contrived hierarchies.
It is time to call these excesses to order; firmly, collectively, and without ambiguity. Enough of this thoughtless behaviour.
