Part of my concern about the Anioma people is getting us to fully accept and embrace who we are. The justification for denying our identity has always been rooted, to a large extent, in the experience of the Civil War. Anioma communities, predominantly Igbo-speaking and culturally connected to the wider Igbo world, found themselves on the side of a war that had acquired a strong ethnic dimension. Aniomaland became a major theatre of the conflict, suffering enormous destruction and loss. Homes were destroyed, communities were displaced, lives and livelihoods were lost.
The experience of the Asaba Massacre remains one of the most painful illustrations of this history. In the aftermath, the fear and trauma of the war created circumstances in which many Anioma people had to distance themselves from an identity that could be dangerous to openly claim. The consequences of that period have lingered, contributing to the identity crisis we still confront today.
But the war is over. More than five decades have passed. We cannot continue to allow the psychology of a war fought between 1967 and 1970 to determine how we introduce ourselves in 2026. What we need now is truth, reconciliation and the confidence to embrace who we are. Anioma people should be able to acknowledge the totality of their identity without fear or apology. And it makes no sense to water down that identity by saying ‘Delta Igbo’; it is unnecessary. Igbo is Igbo.
The ethnic diversity of Delta State provides an instructive example of the confidence with which people can own their identities. An Urhobo introduces himself as Urhobo, an Itsekiri as Itsekiri, an Isoko as Isoko, and an Ijaw as Ijaw. Their identities are not ordinarily prefixed with “Delta” before the ethnic identity itself. The Ijaw, in particular, provides an instructive example. Ijaw communities are spread across several states of the Niger Delta and adjoining areas, including Bayelsa, Delta, Rivers, Ondo, Edo and parts of Akwa Ibom. Yet their identity does not become “Delta Ijaw” or “Bayelsa Ijaw” before it becomes Ijaw. Ijaw is Ijaw.
I was reminded of this recently during an encounter in Casablanca with Patience Torlowei, founder of the Torlowei fashion brand. She came over to greet Laila and me, and after the initial exchange, I asked her where she was from. Her response was immediate: “I am an Ijaw babe!”
I asked again: which Ijaw? She said Patani. It was only after another question that she mentioned her State. What struck me was the order in which she presented herself. Her first instinct was not to identify herself by the state in which her community is located; it was to identify herself by her ethnic heritage.
And this was a woman who could easily have led with any number of other identities. She has built an internationally recognised fashion enterprise, operates at a level that has taken her work beyond Nigeria, and has established a significant presence in Morocco and the United Kingdom. She could have foregrounded her international exposure, her British citizenship or any of the other identities associated with her accomplishments. Yet, when asked a simple question about where she came from, her instinctive answer was: “I am an Ijaw babe.”
That is the confidence I want to see among the Igbo.
The Igbo people, wherever they are, must become more deliberate and assertive about their identity. Whether we are in the South-East, Delta, Rivers, Kogi, Benue or anywhere else, the first acknowledgment of who we are should be our Igboness. Our state, senatorial district, local government and community are geographical identities; they should never become substitutes for our heritage. We must raise a generation that knows its history, speaks confidently of its ancestry and does not feel the need to dilute, qualify or apologise for being Igbo. We must be assertive about who we are.
_Senator Ned Munir Nwoko
