Hardwood timber
Forget those movies like “Love in Every Word,” Igbo land is not intentional about the future. What we saw in that movie – the thick accent but wealthy persona – it’s a make believe that has put money in the pocket of many entertainers. Here in the South East, we are not strategic in any way.
Let’s start with those movies that paint Igbo men as Odogwu.
Last year, “Afamefuna” – the Igbo Apprenticeship story – was celebrated by Igbo
s. Shot in Lagos and produced by a Yoruba brother. The only part left for Southeasterners in Aba and Onitsha is to analyze if the movie is a hit or a miss.
(And when I hear Igbo people saying that the movie didn’t represent the Nwa Boi system, I am always tempted to tell them to shut up.)
Today, “Love in Every Word” hits two million views in a single day. A story that took the clown in the Igbo man and dressed him up as a king. It took a 46-year-old Edo woman to tell your stories.
And had Omoni Oboli approached Odogwus for sponsorship, they would turn her down.
Misunderstand me if you want, but the reality in the South East will hit you when you come here. If it’s not a committee to raise money for burials, forget it.
When I returned to Onitsha, I had young people doing amazing things in mind. I started with Iveanyirochukwu and Jika. I was close with Gwen, Chimdi, and Donnia. I found zeal in Ifunanya, who hosted the first Onitsha Literary Show, and everyday, I told Mandy we’d make an impact.
Today, all of them – every single one of them – except Donnia, have left South East. There was nothing here for them. They took the right decision and are doing amazingly well in the land of their sojourn.
Last December, I ran into an old friend whose parents were the big wigs in the 90s. He said, “I can’t vibe with Onitsha people.” And I understood him perfectly. In Abuja, where he relocated to, he is still hanging out with friends he met in Onitsha but can’t vibe with those left here.
Like Physics made it clear: evaporation causes cooling. And the evaporation of creatives in Onitsha has a similar effect.
If you join any South East Twitter Space, you’ll find young people, who are still struggling to fuel their cars, talking about crowdfunding projects in a region people perceive as rich. Rich, my foot. A region with no solid independent media, where young creatives wander, knowing nobody cares, fighting to escape.
I collaborate with many communities here in the South East, and I know what most of them go through. It’s always a battle to even get a discussion with those Odogwus. And to host an event? You’re dipping into your own pockets, no escape that.
What Igbo people living in the South East understand is this: if I put one naira, how much will I get back?
They find it difficult to ask: Why will I put my money in this?
I personally know a lady in Onitsha who won a global tech award and someone took her to one of the biggest Anambra Odogwu – all of us here know the Odogwu.
Odogwu told this young lady to her face that she was lying.
“You can’t beat Americans and Chinese in ttech competition” Odogwu said.
He didn’t even check the internet before dismissing her. He would rather give a hundred million naira where his name would be announced with a Megaphone than take a hundred thousand naira chance with this girl.
Igbos should be ashamed of stories about ostentatious lifestyles. We are becoming like olden days puff puff: big outside, hollow inside.
While the rest of Nigeria thinks of growth, Odogwus in Anambra State compete for the biggest burial.
So, I’m done with the accented, wealthy, wise Igbo man stereotype. It is becoming an exaggerated cliché. In those clichés, Nollywood throws the ego-bone to Southeasterners after the meat’s gone. We scrape what was left.
That’s not wisdom, my friend. No man is wise who lets weeds cover his father’s house.
As it stands today, among the young Onitsha residents (mostly recent graduates), only three categories will be here in five years:
those forced to stay by wealthy parents,
those who get lucky with a business, and
those who have no close relation in other cities in Nigeria.
I appreciate those few organizations and individuals that still climb the iroko with us. We have stretched you, we know.
We appreciate how relentless you have been over the years. Do not stumble.
Thank you. Thank you so much.
Ozii Baba Anieto