by Chukwudi George Ozalla
“ _Discipline, unity and meritocracy define the success of great societies. Without them, talent and resources lie fallow.” — Lee Kuan Yew, Founding Prime Minister of Singapore_
For decades, the Igbo have cried marginalization. We speak of exclusion, of being denied our fair share of national benefits, appointments, and opportunities, of overlooked contributions, of a nation that seems reluctant to fully accommodate us. We invoke history, colonial legacies, the civil war, and political arrangements that appear stacked against us. While many of these grievances are real, it is impossible to escape a harder and more uncomfortable truth: beyond external pressures, Ndigbo have repeatedly constrained themselves. More often than we care to admit, we are our own greatest obstacle.
From politics to economics, from community development to individual advancement, patterns of internal sabotage and self-defeat are deeply entrenched. The All Progressives Grand Alliance (APGA) was established in 2002 as a progressive political platform with strong Igbo ideological undertones, inspired largely by the philosophy and moral authority of Dim Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu. Its slogan, Be Your Brother’s Keeper, and its oft‑repeated mantra of shared destiny were meant to signal a politics rooted in solidarity, mutual responsibility, and collective advancement. In practice, however, these ideals have largely remained rhetorical. Almost from inception, APGA became mired in leadership crises, factional battles, and prolonged court disputes. Founding figures such as Chekwas Okorie, Victor Umeh, Maxi Okwu, Edozie Njoku, Sylvester Ezeokenwa, and Victor Oye were at the center of relentless infighting. Courts repeatedly intervened to restrain actions, affirm or overturn leadership claims, and settle competing conventions, leaving the party fractured for years. Rather than maturing into a disciplined regional political force, APGA gradually became provincialized, with Anambra State exerting disproportionate control over its structure and direction. What was conceived as a unifying political instrument for the South East was hollowed out by personal ambition, internal rivalry, and power struggles, reducing its slogan and mantra to little more than lip service.
In a democratic setting, it is understandable that not all Igbo would align with APGA. Political plurality is healthy. Yet this reality should not have prevented the South East from coordinating its influence at the centre through strategic alignment, disciplined negotiation, and strong political leadership ideology. The failure lies not in individual political choices but in the absence of a coherent, collective strategy for securing the common good. Had the region embraced such coordination, it could have mirrored models like Singapore, where adversity was transformed into disciplined governance, and strategic unity turned limited resources into sustained national progress, lifting a resource-poor island to one of the world’s most prosperous societies.
The South East Development Commission (SEDC), recently inaugurated to drive sustainable development across Abia, Anambra, Ebonyi, Enugu, and Imo states, further illustrates the cost of delayed collective action. There is no dispute about the importance of the commission in addressing infrastructure deficits and improving standards of living, yet its absence for decades meant that development in the region was shaped largely by ad hoc federal allocations and piecemeal projects rather than a cohesive regional vision. The commission’s mandate to promote investment, infrastructure, and regional growth merely underscores how much time and opportunity were lost to disunity and weak coordination.
While external marginalization has played a role in the South East’s challenges, internal self-destruction cannot be ignored. A review of federal allocation patterns over the democratic era reveals that the South East has consistently received lower shares of federation revenues compared with other zones. Between 1999 and 2007, the region received about 918 billion naira in block allocations, far below the South South and South West. In 2019, data showed the South East with the lowest allocation among Nigeria’s six geopolitical zones at around 540.40 billion naira. In audited federation accounts for 2020–2021, total allocations to all tiers of government were reported at about 8.79 trillion naira, with the South East’s share around 963 billion naira, again the lowest among zones. In 2023, FAAC distributions placed the South East’s total at roughly 680.59 billion naira compared with higher totals in the South South and South West. Early 2025 figures showed the five South East states collectively receiving about 486.57 billion naira in federation allocations.
Taken together with other published data points across the democratic period, the accumulated share for the South East since 1999 can reasonably be estimated in the low trillions of naira, consistently trailing better-aligned regions. These figures speak not merely to relative deprivation but to the consequences of strategic weakness in negotiating and leveraging federal revenues for transformative regional development. The hard question should be: the allocations so far received, plus internally generated revenues and grants received, where and how have they been channeled?
Insecurity has worsened significantly across the South East. Reports over recent years indicate that hundreds of people have been kidnapped, with ransom demands running into billions of naira, devastating families, businesses, and investor confidence. The economic toll is staggering. Repeated sit‑at‑home orders have inflicted enormous damage on the regional economy. Between 2021 and 2025, the South East is estimated to have lost trillions of naira in economic activity, with micro, small, and medium enterprises bearing the brunt. Transport operators lost billions weekly, markets were forced shut, supply chains disrupted, students kept out of school, and daily livelihoods destroyed. These actions, often framed as political statements, have inflicted more harm on ordinary Igbo citizens than any external force.
Perhaps the most corrosive problem lies in how Igbos treat one another, particularly in positions of power. There is a persistent tendency to shun fellow Igbos when assistance, mentorship, or protection is needed. Many who attain elective or appointive office display arrogance and harshness toward their own people, often under the illusion that distancing themselves from fellow Igbos will earn them greater respect from outsiders. This internal marginalization deepens existing grievances and erodes trust within the community.
Political fragmentation is further compounded by jealousy, envy, and state-based superiority complexes. Rivalries over perceived wealth, lineage, influence, or state of origin frequently derail collective action. Admittedly, many Igbos who once extended genuine help to others were repaid with betrayal, ingratitude, and, in some cases, outright wickedness. These experiences have discouraged solidarity and made some understandably cautious. Yet this reality cannot justify the opposite tendency, where envy and greed drive people to actively pull down their fellow kinsmen, sometimes even brothers fighting against one another. In truth, while some have paid their dues by uplifting others, some have also suffered lasting regret after drawing close to those whose hearts were steeped in malice. The task before us is to strike an honest balance, to reflect deeply on where the rain began to beat us as a people, to pause, ponder, and perhaps ponder again. The Igbo are a uniquely ingenious and industrious people, with qualities that naturally attract envy from others, but what we do to ourselves can be far more damaging than any external hostility.
Economic underperformance mirrors this political and social disunity. Despite substantial federal allocations and internally generated revenue,
infrastructure across the South East remains underdeveloped. Electricity supply is unreliable, healthcare facilities are under-equipped, and educational standards uneven. Even though the region has consistently received federal funds since 1999, resource management and application have often lacked transparency and strategic focus, resulting in visible transformation far below what those funds could have delivered under disciplined and accountable governance.
Youth restiveness is both a symptom and a consequence of these failures. Unemployment, cultism, and violence have become widespread, particularly in states like Imo and Enugu. These outcomes are rooted less in fate or conspiracy and more in governance deficits, weak institutions, and the erosion of social cohesion.
The Biafra ideology, often invoked in political discourse, must also be interrogated honestly. Preserving identity and historical consciousness is important, but these ideals must be measured by tangible outcomes in infrastructure, education, industry, a synergized development blueprint and implementation strategy, and a top-notch good governance model. Without concrete progress, symbolism risks becoming a distraction from urgent development work.
Another troubling trend is the relentless pursuit of wealth by any means. Stories abound of Igbo youths imprisoned or killed abroad in their quest for quick money. Ostentatious display has become a false marker of success, while simplicity, ethical enterprise, and quiet industry are mocked. While celebrating achievement is not wrong, we have drifted away from valuing integrity and sustainable success. Talent and industriousness define the Igbo spirit; a few bad eggs must not be allowed to redefine it.
The South East must confront difficult questions. How long will internal rivalries dictate the pace of development? How much more talent, wealth, and opportunity will be squandered through sabotage, jealousy, and neglect? Can APGA be reimagined to genuinely reflect all five states and function as a credible political platform? Or is Governor Chukwuma Soludo going to be its eventual undertaker? Can public revenues be translated into real, measurable impact on people’s lives?
The answers demand action, not rhetoric. Unity must replace envy. Accountability must replace favoritism. Igbo leaders must place public service above personal gain. Every opportunity to assist fellow Igbos on merit must be seized.
Institutions must function, and resources must be strategically deployed to achieve real results. Only then can the South East credibly claim its rightful place within Nigeria and in the global arena.
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It is quite an irony that from a safe distance, we are apt to lampoon those in positions of authority ceaselessly, but when we get closer and have the same opportunity to occupy those same positions, we end up becoming disasters and abysmal failures, and, in most cases, worse off than those we hitherto condemned.
Hope, however, is not lost. The Igbo are resilient, inventive, and capable of increased remarkable achievements. The solution does not lie in endless blame of others, but in confronting our weaknesses, rebuilding trust, and working deliberately toward tangible progress. The future depends on what we choose to do today. Ositadinma, odiri gabazia — loosely translated – if it begins to be better today, it will continue in that direction.
Publisher and Editor-in-Chief, NEWSCOUNT
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