The ban on Igbo songs imposed by a Catholic priest, James Anelu, at his parish church in Ikorodu, Lagos State, irritated Igbo sensibilities and fueled the never-ending debate about ethnic relations in Nigeria; the Igbo’s place in Nigeria, and the necessity (or lack thereof) for Igbo secession from Nigeria. The Igbo have yet to attain psychological closure after the civil war because we refuse to heal from the psychological wounds of the war. As a result, such acts of tribalism, which will inevitably arise in any heterogeneous community like ours, severely slash our still-healing psychic wounds and provide precious resources for neo-Biafran propagandists.
The social media post detailing other Nigerians’ anxieties about the Igbo, such as fear of Igbo tunes, fear of Igbo dress, fear of Igbo presidency, fear of Igbo breakaway, and so on, is cheap, tasteful propaganda. Propaganda, in my opinion, is the manipulative use of information. That article is biased; its goal is to inflame neo-Biafran sentiment among impressionable and undiscerning Igbo. This article focuses on only one of the anxieties mentioned in that flashy propaganda piece: the fear of Igbo songs.
Tribalism, racism, sectionalism, and other types of discrimination are indelible stains on existence. Humans are fundamentally prejudiced, particularly along tribe (and sub-tribal), religious, and social lines. For reasons that psychologists and other experts in human behavior do not fully comprehend, we instinctively gravitate toward people who are similar to us and, more readily, attach and bond with them, often to the exclusion of others.
Long ago, as I passed through Tafawa Balewa Square in Lagos, beggars on both sides of the sidewalk pestered me for money, largely in Yoruba and Pidgin English. I’d already decided not to give any of them any money. However, as I passed this beggar, he said in Igbo: nna, biko nye nu m ego (Mr., please give me money). His statement touched my heart and sparked compassion. I couldn’t resist that specific monetary appeal. Despite having already passed him, I turned around and took a few steps back to offer him some money.
What was that? It was an act of tribalism. Why did I ignore every request for money yet listen to the only one made in my language? Why did I offer someone special treatment just because he spoke my language? The Igbo language, more than any other language in the world, strikes a passionate and responsive chord in me. I’m guilty of tribalism. To some extent, all Nigerians are guilty of tribalism. Detribalisation and objectivity help to reduce tribalism but do not completely eliminate it. Culturally insular ethnic groups are more likely to engage in heinous acts of tribalism. However, culturally open-minded and adaptable ethnic groupings are not completely free of tribalism.
Yoruba-phobia and Hausa-phobia exist among the Igbo, just as they do among the Yoruba and Hausa/Fulani, respectively. In addition, intra-tribal phobias exist within each of Nigeria’s major ethnic groups. There exist fears and rivalries among the many Igbo sub- groupings. In 2012, the Pope selected Monsignor Peter Okpaleke, a priest from Anambra State, as the next Bishop of the Catholic Dioceses of Ahiara and Mbaise in Imo State. The people of Ahiara were passionately opposed; Ahiara Catholics, non-Catholics, and traditionalists, led by over 400 Catholic priests, protested the newly appointed bishop.
With placards reading, “We want a Mbaise son as Mbaise bishop;” “Mbaise rejects Okpalaeke now and forever, Amen;” they indicated unequivocally that they preferred the closure of all Catholic churches in the diocese to Bishop Okpaleke presiding over the same. They did not challenge his expertise, personal honour, or qualification (not his honesty or credibility). He is qualified to be a bishop, perhaps an outstanding bishop. He was rejected just because he belongs to another sub-Igbo community.
People dislike strangers lording over them, as proven by the Ahiara people. Outsiders’ dominance offends us. The distrust and even hatred of powerful foreigners is a worldwide occurrence, a normal human predisposition. The Igbo are more likely than any other group of Nigerians to leave their home areas to live and work elsewhere in Nigeria. And in these areas of sojourn, we succeed and gain power and dominance. And, because people generally despise outsider rule, the Igbo, more than any other ethnic group in Nigeria, suffer the brunt of the indigenous people’s animosity and, in some cases, hate of successful, influential, and hence “domineering” foreigners.
Just as the Yoruba in Lagos express their dissatisfaction with the predominance of Igbo presence and influence through words and acts, and the Hausa do the same in the North, the Igbo have also expressed concern about the excessive influence of non-Igbos in Igboland. So, discrimination against the Igbo or fear of our dominance by native peoples in other regions of Nigeria does not imply a universal hatred for the Igbo or a desire for our extinction. It is a display of human characteristics and flaws that the Igbo are equally guilty of.
What enraged the priest and prompted his ban on Igbo songs in his parish was the Igbo’s dominance (with their songs) of church praise and worship in Yorubaland. Parishioners in Onitsha and Aba are likely to be offended by the prevalence of Hausa/Fulani or Yoruba music in praise and worship. How they react to it, or show their dissatisfaction, will depend on the specifics. Although Lagos is far more cosmopolitan than these outlying outposts, ethnic tensions may still run hot in this intelligent and open-minded state.
The priest erred, not because he had Igbophobia and fears Igbo dominion; we all have one phobia or another and fear some sort of domination, but because he shown a lack of caution and prudence that his vocation required.
