Memoir - Igbo Background

Intrigued by Igbo Culture? Indeed I was. Now 67, I can almost recall my days in old Nigeria, in the town of Mbanta. My first experience as a missionary was an eye opener indeed. I was only 19 at the time, to reside in a new environment for a 5-year tenure quite frightened me. I had never heard about the new place I was going to travel to, until the stories and rumors had circulated around. Almost everyone in my team was talking about the horrid smells, savage black people, and false gods and ideologies. It sounded like hell to me, at least at that time.

They called me Rory. When I met the Igbo people I was fascinated with their way of life and embraced it rather than destroy it. I tried to interact with everyone I met and learn as much as I could despite the language barrier. I came to terms that this so called hell was a lie, a farce. It was a beautiful landscape, rich in culture and blossoming into buds of excitement and diversity. The village of Mbanta was nothing like Britain, it was lush, smelled of nature (and excrete!) but most pleasantly of all, it was honest and genuine. From Swamplands to Grasslands to Tropical Forests in was what I had only dreamed of. To me it was like taking a vacation around the world, but to one destination. During the 67 years of my life, I have travelled from the west to the Far East, but never did I experience anything similar to Nigeria.  

Their history is what fascinated me the most. They had a supreme god named Chukwu that had given the Igbo people a blessing. He had created a family that lived in Nigeria and had nothing to eat. Eze Nri and his children were hungry and so he gave them yams to eat, but, much to their discomfort they were hungry the next day. Chukwu gave Eze Nri yam seeds, but could not plant them as the land was filled with water. Chukwu ordered his blacksmiths to smash the land so the water would escape created a barren dry land. He then ordered Eze Nri to plant yam seeds on his children’s grave of which he obeyed to. Then blossomed a yam tree, two huge ones with an abundance of food of which Igbo people embraced as their savior. After learning about this story, I understood why yams are so common and are so popular here, I thought it was just because it was natural, but their belief is what drives their hunger. Indeed food for thought for anyone interested.

Its systems were intriguing and confusing to me. I never quite fully understood how everything worked, but for the most part it did make some sense. Its political structures and systems revolved around crosscutting ties. There were 5 major political groups, The Council of elders (of which I frequently visited), Age groups, council of chiefs, women’s associations and secret societies.

Matters that affected lineage went to the Council of Elders or as I called them ndisi. They had one authoritative member who had his position from being the eldest and therefore had the most respect to own that position. He would make the decision but, it had to be consulted by the rest of the Council who had to all agree before a final decision was made, and essentially achieve a general consensus before matters were decided upon. Very similar to modern day democracy, but they acted with much more respect than what I have seen over the span of my life.

Age groups or ogbu were the groups that consisted of many women or men that resided within the same town and the same age group. Essentially this was a town council or like a job center for modern day. The men and women were separated and had 3-5 year intervals between their ages. The ogbu used this system to record past events and events of their life, but more importantly assigned tasks for people to complete in the community. Younger ages from 15 and up had to perform minor tasks such as helping simply with crops and food management. The young adults such as myself at the time, had to train for battle and protection when they got older as the adults were in charge of the “government” for each village. The elders had the task of the judicial system, as their life experiences would help in making wise decisions. This was an easy system that worked effectively to my surprise, and made the most sense as I reflect on it. If only it was that simple now.

Men of Igbo culture were proud of achievements and titles such as entering the Council of Chiefs. It was very hard to be part of this selected group of people, and I have had a ceremony inducting me as a chief. That experience I will never forget. It was like it was yesterday, many different young men queued up hoping they would get their chance and they chose me. I never really knew why, but I guess that’s just how it played out. Although it was a title I received, to fully become a chief, a young boy must accompany his father and offer assistance throughout his life, before gaining enough experience to become a chief himself. With titles and experiences it allowed many individuals to advance socially thus explaining the high demand of people wanting to join. Titles were expensive and many of the wealthy bought as many as they could, having more titles of course meant you had more power, and achieving only the junior titles in Igbo culture meant that you were nothing to them. The highest title ozo was the hardest to attain and required ones chi to be used in battle to attain it. Spiritually and socially it was very important to everyone in the Igbo culture.

The women’s associations and secret society had very much to do with their spiritual beliefs. The women were responsible for taking care of shrines of which I saw frequently, and the secret societies were masked spirits called egwugwu but I could never find anything else about them. They were very interesting to say the least; I can’t help but regret I couldn’t understand more about them. Lastly the marriage customs were the most important social tie for the Igbo people. It brought families and towns together for these occasions and had to have consent with the groom’s lineage. They had to build their house together and if they struggled, his wife could bring additional wives to him, especially if the household was large. With an increase in wives, it contributed to a man's prestige. Wealthy women also had prestige with trading and weaving and could marry other women to “father” their children.

An unforgettable experience that will reside in my forever. I could never describe its lush landscapes, diverse systems and kind, generous and respectful people to you. They take everything seriously, but enjoy the beauties of life through food, family and religion. No distractions and no limitations, I urge anyone to visit the village of Mbanta, where they welcomed foreigners like me with open arms. Those 5 years were the best 5 years of my life.