By Christopher Onyewuchi
In Nigeria’s ongoing debate about equity, federalism, and marginalisation, it has become fashionable for commentators to accuse the Igbo of harbouring a hidden agenda for dominance. The latest of such arguments suggests that the Igbo should ally with the Yoruba and the Middle Belt to push for devolution — as though their agitation for inclusion were a cloak for ambitions once “realised” in the First Republic and “revived” under President Goodluck Jonathan.
This framing, though convenient, is profoundly misleading. It distorts both history and intent. The truth is simpler and less sinister: the Igbos do not seek to dominate anyone. They seek a Nigeria founded on fairness, balance, and genuine federalism.
The Struggle Is for Inclusion, Not Supremacy
From independence in 1960 to the present, the core of Igbo political consciousness has been inclusion within a truly federal Nigeria. Whether through Nnamdi Azikiwe’s pan-Nigerian nationalism, Alex Ekwueme’s pioneering proposal for a six-zone federation, or the modern calls for restructuring, the consistent Igbo vision has been one of equality of opportunity.
Far from demanding ethnic supremacy, the Igbos have asked for a Nigeria where every group governs itself within a fair federal arrangement and contributes to a balanced centre. Their complaint is not that others lead, but that the system persistently excludes and disadvantages them — politically, economically, and symbolically.
The Myth of Igbo Dominance in the First Republic
The notion that Igbos “dominated” the First Republic is one of Nigeria’s most persistent political myths.
Yes, Nnamdi Azikiwe was Governor-General and later ceremonial President, but executive power lay squarely with Prime Minister Tafawa Balewa of the Northern People’s Congress (NPC). The Igbo-led NCNC was a junior coalition partner. The North controlled the federal bureaucracy and the military hierarchy, while the Western Region pursued its own path under Chief Obafemi Awolowo.
The Eastern Region, under Premier Michael Okpara, focused inward — building industries, schools, and cooperatives that became models of regional development. None of these efforts amounted to federal “dominance.” They reflected productivity, not political hegemony.
To confuse visibility with control is to confuse enterprise with empire.
The Jonathan Era Was Not an Igbo Regime
The same distortion recurs in the portrayal of the Jonathan administration as an “Igbo moment.” President Jonathan was Ijaw, from the Niger Delta. The South-East supported him politically, not ethnically.
Their alliance with him was built on shared ideals — regional neglect, underdevelopment, and a desire for a more inclusive Nigeria. Igbos neither controlled his cabinet nor dictated his policies. In fact, most of the power levers in that era — security, petroleum, and fiscal policy — remained firmly outside Igbo hands.
To brand that period as “Igbo dominance” is to weaponise political alliance into ethnic suspicion.
Marginalisation Is a Structural Reality
The Igbo complaint of marginalisation is not a sentimental cry for attention; it is a data-backed indictment of Nigeria’s structural imbalance.
The South-East remains the only zone with five states and the fewest local governments (95) — a numerical disadvantage that translates directly into reduced federal revenue, fewer senatorial seats, and diminished influence in national decision-making.
The region’s infrastructure — roads, airports, railways — is visibly inferior to other zones.
Since 1970, the region has been largely excluded from commanding heights of the military, security, and oil industries.
This is not imagined victimhood. It is institutionalised inequity.
Devolution Without Justice Is Cosmetic
The call for Igbos to “ally with others for devolution” might sound pragmatic, but it sidesteps the deeper question of justice.
Devolution of powers is meaningless if the basic structure remains unequal. A Nigeria that grants limited autonomy without correcting foundational imbalances in representation and resource control only repackages inequality under a new name.
True federalism demands that every region control its resources, develop at its own pace, and contribute fairly to the centre. That is the restructuring Igbos — and indeed many Nigerians — demand.
Igbo Culture: Enterprise, Not Empire
To understand the Igbo political temperament, one must understand their social structure. The Igbo are a republican people. Their precolonial society had no kings or central authorities — decisions were made by consensus among equals.
This spirit endures today in their unmatched enterprise across Nigeria. Igbos excel not because they dominate, but because they persevere. They build where they settle, invest where they live, and contribute where they belong. Their success often attracts resentment misread as aggression. But it is not ambition for rule; it is a quest for dignity through hard work.
The fear of Igbo “domination” is, therefore, a projection — a convenient excuse to rationalise systemic exclusion.
A Partnership of Equals, Not a Pact of Convenience
The Igbo are open to partnership with the Yoruba, the Middle Belt, the Niger Delta, and indeed the North — but such partnership must be grounded in equality, not paternalism. Alliances built on suspicion cannot sustain democracy.
The road to national renewal lies in recognising that the Igbo struggle is not an ethnic complaint but a patriotic demand for a fairer Nigeria. A just federation benefits all — not just the South-East.
Conclusion
To accuse the Igbo of seeking dominance is to punish excellence and misread aspiration. The Igbos do not want to rule Nigeria; they want a Nigeria worth belonging to.
Their cry is not “give us power,” but “give us fairness.”
And that is not an Igbo demand — it is a Nigerian one.