Anambra, where is your Ijele?

By O. I. C. Ikechukwu, 04.03.2009

Friday, April 3, 2009

The ‘political and moral village square’ in Anambra State today is overrun by all manner of masquerades. They are talking about themselves: what they want, why they should become governor and how even divine revelation has assured one of them that he will rule the state forever – and a few days extra!  The underdevelopment, hidden rage and decay of values in the state are not the issues. Most of the aspiring leaders are still busy recruiting the youth for nefarious activities, when their peers elsewhere are concerned about making the same youths part of the Knowledge Industry of the 21st century. Far too much energy is going into the aspiration to be governor, but without any real plans for the involvement of the people. It is as if there is a consensus that cash, capacity for making trouble and/or connections with forces operating from outside the state will decide who will be the next governor. Leadership, true leadership the way it is known among Ndi Anambra, is not on the table at all. No one seems to be asking: “what type of person should be governor of a fractious, traumatized and politically confounded state like Anambra, come 2010; and how will such a person take the state and its people to where the rest of the world is”. They do not even consider that a candidate for that office in 2010 should be a viable candidate for the Presidency in 2015. 

So where is Anambra State’s Ijele masquerade for this all-important outing?

Let us state, for the record, that there are big and small masquerades; and then there is the ijele. The reason for this is that the Ijele is an event all by itself. People clear the path when it is coming. Other masquerades disappear from the village square as it approaches. Yet the Ijele is not violent. It is not in competition with other masquerades. In point of fact, is not even a masquerade. It is simply the Ijele: The symbolic representation of honour and royalty for Ndi Anambra. It stands as the embodiment of calm dignity and unequalled majesty in its every ambience. The very step of the Ijele is celebrated as a privilege by those who see it in the village square. It accepts the cheer of the crowd as of right. It does not thank anyone for getting out of its way. Its ‘arrival’ always precedes it. Those who know of its coming, or who see it approaching, happily join to help clear the way. This is not pride, or self inflation. It is just the nature of the Ijele to live thus!

The Ijele enters the esplanade with the choicest gems laid all over it. Therefore there is nothing you can give to it. It is sufficient unto itself. That is why Anambra people say, when they feel their dignity affronted: “The Ijele does not dance for money”. A titled man/woman will look with contempt at cheap lucre when he/she is confronted with a call to demean himself/herself. But that was before the titles turned up at the evening market at the price of three kobo for a dozen.

What can you give the Ijele? Any attempt to ‘spray’ money on this ‘masquerade’ is an insult, verging on outright abomination. It is just not done! Again, you do not speak of beauty or ugliness in connection with the Ijele. It is an absolute category by itself. It is simply the Ijele: not proud but possessed of imperial comportment; not uncaring, but impervious to all the prancing around it; not cold, but living as the symbol of that ontological pedigree that takes on the subtle impression of the supernatural; not contemptuous of smaller masquerades, but unable to acknowledge them; not threatening, but totally beholden to its own essence and unable to conceptualize the notion of a peer. In the unlikely event that there is some commotion while the Ijele  is in the square, it does not turn to find out what the problem might be. Ijele knows it will be attended to. That is the Ijele! That is why those who understand its essence know, and say, that it is not a masquerade.

The Ijele comes out once every several years, so that its presence will remind the people of the ideals of integrity, which leadership ought to embody.  Integrity here is understood in the sense of an almost unconscious resolve not to be associated with anything ignoble and likely to detract from the values of humanity and society. More importantly, the Ijele  lives as this statement: “He/she who must have honour and primacy among you must be totally bound to higher standards of excellence and social responsibility”.

But look at Anambra State, the home of the Ijele, today. Some say that small masquerades have taken over the village square. That may be true, but those who say so imagine that the Ijele is a big masquerade, and nothing more. But they are wrong. The Ijele  is not a big masquerade. It is the ijele!!! As for the big and small masquerades, let us explain what they are before, returning to the Ijele and how to save Anambra State.

Most Anambra masquerades serve as visible symbols of certain social values. They are used by the public to anchor and reinforce norms and moral preferences. 

Take the ‘agbogho nmanwu’ (Lady Masquerade), for instance. It is the physical embodiment of everything feminine. The ‘face’ is of flawless and mature beauty. The form is female in a refined sort of way. The steps are dainty. The gestures are the very soul of graceful ambience. Children love her. The wildest of men control themselves in behaviour and speech at the approach of Agbogho nmanwu. In her presence all coarseness is kept at bay. If there is a stampede during a celebration people compete among themselve to protect this particular masquerade. Women of controversial self-presentation are rebuked by the very nature of Agbogho nmanwu. She lives as a symbol of that calm grace and natural, unaffected dignity of a woman.

Then there is Onuku (The Fool) masquerade. It has the form of a man. But it represents degenerate manhood. The ‘face’ wears a permanent and abominably lecherous leer. The tongue hangs from the mouth. The movement is wishy-washy. The carriage is beggarly. The sagging shoulders suggest everything despicable you can think of in a man. Worse still, the social profile of Onuku is such that it is never accompanied by any drummers, or assistants. It does not dance. It never enters the venue of an event through the popular pathway. It prefers to sneak into the place, meander to where unsuspecting women are absorbed in the celebrations and attempt to molest and embarrass them. It is the only masquerade that receives beating from, or gets involved in a fight with women.

The job of many mothers who wish to keep their children on the slippery path of moral rectitude is often made a little easier by Onuku. How? Many mothers rebuked their children by simply asking whether they wanted to grow up and be like Onuku. It always worked like magic. In fact a shudder often accompanied the boys’ emphatic “no” to such a query from the mother.

Then there is the masquerade alternatively called ‘Agaba’, or ‘Okwonma’ in several communities. The very sight of this masquerade strikes terror into the heart of almost everyone. The height is imposing. The form and build, massive. It represents manly strength of the violent and dangerous type. This masquerade wields a big, sharp and well made machete. The movement is swift and totally threatening; in its implicit refusal to acknowledge obstacles. It is often held by a strong, restraining and long rope by assistants who do everything possible to keep it on the leash. If it breaks away, the village square will disperse in abject terror. Those unfortunate enough to have an encounter with this masquerade at such a time, and in such circumstances, will have conspicuous wounds and bruises to show for it.

This masquerade symbolizes brute, unrefined manhood. It is feared and not respected. It takes over the village square by force and the smaller masquerades who flee before it do so for their own safety. They have no respect for Okwonma. Nobody does. They dislike it, in fact. Just as women in every festive square keep a concerned lookout for Onuku, there is no one who is so daring that he does not watch out for this dangerous masquerade. Its arrival means danger, unrest, end of fun, arbitrary assertion of dominance and authority.

Once there is no Ijele, it is these hard headed masquerades that take over the esplanade. They become the law and the event. Being by nature routinely disrespectful of societal norms and simple rules of decency, they make force, instruments of terror and ‘mad’ behaviour their own Rule of Law. And if a community has not seen the Ijele for many years, it runs the risk of having these rough neck masquerades as the symbols of authority. Their violent and arbitrary ways will then become the ways of the people; and many children and leaders of tomorrow will follow their excellent examples of reprehensible behaviour.

Yet this dangerous masquerade manages to make itself very scarce at the approach of the Ijele. And this is significant.

If we liken the political actors in Anambra State today to the different categories of masquerades mentioned earlier, then we must draw very disturbing conclusions. Purposeless and blind ambitions, tomfoolery, refusal to learn from past errors are the dominant motifs. Only in one or two, still obscure, cases do you see true capacity for leadership, and understanding of the problems and the background that promises something good for the state.

But it is now time to Re-invent the Essence, Beauty, Integrity, Resourcefulness, Traditions and Honour that battered state. It is time to ask fundamental questions about the moral standing of people who aspire to lead and whether the years of locust have not lasted long enough. It is no longer enough to speak of “aspiring for governorship” as a personal ambition. It is time to dispassionately assess those now putting themselves forward. What are their antecedents? Who are their ancestors? What do they have to offer? After the elections, what will they do with the young men and women they have assembled? What are their ideas about development, youth development and restoration of the place of Anambra State in national politics?

These issues have become important because the state is now faced with a strange elite culture that is totally disconnected from the people. This new paradigm rests on the belief that an Anambra ticket will always be got from powers outside the state and that the affairs of the people need not worry anyone. Is this right? Should it be condoned? Where are the elders? Why have the Sons of Eli taken over? What has become of the Ijele? Is it not time to look out for an Ijele among the contenders? Leadership is not taken up as ‘something I must do because it is one thing I have not done’. Success in business, contacts in Abuja and a reputation for making money through possible and impossible means,  as well as several other threadbare phrases being tabled as qualification, do not have the strength of a feather, as basis for leadership aspiration. You are either there to serve the traumatized people of Anambra and gradually lead them back from the induced loss of values inflicted on them by a baffling flowering of renegade politics, or you are part of their problems.

The Anambra Village Square needs the arrival of the Ijele. But is anyone looking out for it? I just wonder.

• Dr. Ikechukwu is of the International Institute of Leadership and Governance.