Ime Obi Anambra

24/09/2026

IME OBI ANAMBRA SERIES

ỤWA MBGEDE KA MMA: THE ANCIENT IGBO WISDOM OF GROWING OLD WITH HONOUR, WISDOM AND LEGACY

- Kamen Chuks Ogbonna

Among the wisdom handed down by the Igbo people is the saying, "Ụwa mgbede ka mma." Literally, it means the world of the evening is better. Yet, like many Igbo proverbs, its meaning reaches beyond the words. It speaks about age, experience, patience, maturity and the beauty that comes when a person has travelled through life and understood its lessons.

In ancient Igbo society, life was seen as a journey through seasons. Morning represented youth, when the body was strong, the mind curious and the future unfolding. Afternoon represented the active years, when a person worked, married, raised children, built wealth and served the community. Evening represented old age, when a person could look back and understand the journey of life even better.

The wisdom in "Ụwa mgbede ka mma" is not that old age is easier than youth. Rather, it teaches that life can become richer with experience. A young person has strength, speed and ambition, but an elder has something that cannot be bought or hurried, which is experience.

The elder has seen joy and sorrow, success and failure, friendship and betrayal. These experiences become the eyes through which life is understood.

This explains the honour given to elders in traditional Igbo communities. Age alone did not make a person wise. The expectation was that many years should produce sound judgement. An elder was expected to become a storehouse of history, customs, family knowledge, community memory and wisdom.

When an elder spoke wisely, younger people listened because the words had passed through experience.

There is also a lesson about patience. Modern life encourages people to seek everything immediately: wealth, recognition, influence and comfort. The old Igbo saying reminds us that some of life's rewards come late. A person may spend years planting, nurturing and sacrificing before seeing the harvest. The seed does not become a tree in one morning. The harvest belongs to those who understand time.

But the proverb carries a warning too. If the evening is to be better, the morning and afternoon must be lived wisely. A person cannot waste his youth and expect old age to manufacture a legacy.

The evening reveals what was planted earlier. Good character, knowledge, strong relationships, service to others and responsible living are seeds whose fruits may appear years later as testimonies to a person's legacy.

For the Igbo, growing old was not just a biological process. It was a movement towards deeper responsibility and wisdom. The elder becomes a bridge between generations, carrying lessons from the past and preparing the young for the future. An old person could therefore possess wealth greater than money - in memory, understanding and in the lives that had been touched.

Today, "Ụwa mgbede ka mma" remains relevant. A society that worships youth alone may forget that every young person is travelling towards old age. The wisdom of the ancestors invites us to honour every season of life and live today in a way that makes tomorrow meaningful.

The evening is not measured by possessions, but by peace, honour, gratitude, family, wisdom and a legacy that continues after one has gone.

22/09/2026

IME OBI ANAMBRA SERIES

THE WALK CULTURE OF NDI GBOO: WHAT MODERN IGBO SOCIETY CAN LEARN FROM THE PAST

- Kamen Chuks Ogbonna

There was a time when walking was an important part of life among Ndi Igbo. In traditional Igbo society, people walked to farms, markets, streams, neighbouring villages, meetings, ceremonies and to the homes of friends and relatives.

Walking was not regarded as exercise. It was simply part of everyday life.

Before cars and motorcycles became common, the human body was the main means of movement over short and even considerable distances.

Farmers walked to their farms, traders walked to markets, children walked to school and young people moved from one place to another for work, apprenticeship and social activities.

Women also covered considerable distances while carrying out domestic and agricultural duties.

This way of life meant that people were physically active almost every day.

Unlike nowadays where many people spend long hours sitting in cars, offices and homes, traditional Igbo life required constant movement.

Farming, fetching water, processing food, communal work and other daily activities all demanded physical effort.

This does not mean that people in ancient Igbo society were free from disease or that everybody lived to a very old age. There were many health challenges at the time. However, their lifestyle generally involved much more physical activity than the increasingly sedentary lifestyle of today.

Walking also brought people together. The village road was not merely a route from one place to another. It was a place where people met, greeted one another, exchanged information and maintained social relationships.

Movement and community life were closely connected.

Today, modern transportation has made life easier and there is no need to reject its benefits. Cars and motorcycles have their place. The problem arises when convenience makes us abandon movement altogether. A person may drive a very short distance, sit for most of the working day and then spend the evening on a phone or watching television.

The Western world is increasingly recognising the importance of walking and regular physical activity. Walking programmes, pedestrian paths, parks and community health initiatives are being promoted as simple ways of encouraging people to become more active.

The message is straightforward and clear: the human body needs movement.

This is particularly important as obesity and other lifestyle-related health problems have become more common.

Regular physical activity, together with healthy eating and other good habits, can help people maintain a healthier weight and reduce the risk of several chronic diseases.

Perhaps Ndi Igbo do not need to look very far for an answer. Our ancestors already lived a culture in which walking was normal.

We can adapt that culture to modern life without returning to the hardships of the past.

We can walk to nearby shops, take evening walks, encourage children to walk where it is safe, organise community and church health walks, and create safer pedestrian routes in our towns. Offices can also encourage workers to take movement breaks.

The message is simple: modernisation should make life easier, not make our bodies inactive. The walk culture of Ndi Gboo can therefore become part of a new health culture for Ndi Igbo.

Walk when you can, move every day and live better.

21/09/2026

IME OBI ANAMBRA SERIES

NNE EWU NA-ATA AGBA, NWA YA ANA ENE YA ANYA N'ONU: THE YOUNG LEARN WHAT THE ADULTS LIVE

- Kamen Chuks O

This classic Igbo proverb captures one of the oldest truths about how human beings learn. The young goat does not need lectures or formal lessons. It simply watches its mother chew, and before long it chews the same way.

The ancients of Igboland understood this long before modern psychologists gave it the name observational learning, or learning by imitation.

Professor Chinualumogu Achebe used a close version of the saying in Things Fall Apart thus, "When a mother-cow is chewing grass, its young ones watch its mouth."

The wisdom is straightforward: Children and young people absorb far more from what they see adults do than from what those adults say.

Modern psychology has repeatedly confirmed what Igbo elders already knew.

Albert Bandura's famous Bobo doll experiments in the early 1960s showed that children who watched an adult behave aggressively towards an inflatable doll later copied the same punches, kicks and even the exact aggressive phrases, without any reward or instruction of their own.

It proved that children can learn aggression simply by watching adults.

Later research on mirror neurons revealed that the human brain is literally wired to simulate the actions it observes.

From infancy, babies begin imitating facial expressions; by the time they are toddlers, they are absorbing values, habits and attitudes simply by watching the people around them.

This has powerful implications for social reform in places such as Anambra State and the wider Igbo society. Young people form the majority of the population, as estimates put youth at around 65 percent in Anambra.

Our children are watching. If the adults they see value enterprise, creativity, discipline, honesty and tolerance, those qualities will also take root in them.

If instead they see corruption, hypocrisy, get-rich-quick schemes, s*xual exploitation or the public celebration of charlatans, those patterns are learned just as readily.

Reactionary measures like public condemnation, arrests or imprisonment of "Okeite" fraudsters and those who exploit children have their place in society. Yet I firmly believe that they treat mere symptoms.

The more effective, longer-term approach is proactive modelling.

Government officials, religious leaders, parents and community elders must embody the ideal of the resourceful, truthful, excellence-driven Onye Anambra they wish the next generation to become.

Words alone are not enough; the young ones are watching actions more than they are listening to speeches.

Western cultural influences and the frequent gap between the public statements and private conduct of political and religious leaders have also greatly deepened the problem.

When adults preach one set of values while living another, the lesson absorbed is cynicism.

By contrast, consistent examples like honest dealing, creative problem-solving rather than mere competition, and respect for others, offer a living curriculum that no classroom can match.

The path to lasting change therefore begins with the adults. Just as the baby goat (kid) learns to chew by watching the mother, Generation Z will learn the habits of a better society by watching the private and public actions of those in positions of responsibility.

The proverb remains as relevant today as it was centuries ago, which is that the young will become what they repeatedly see.

17/09/2026

16/09/2026

IME OBI ANAMBRA SERIES

THE SACRED OMU IN THE MOUTH: A CODE OF HONOUR FOR THE MODERN IGBO MAN

- Kamen Chuks Ogbonna

In ancient Igbo society, when a man was chosen for a vital mission, he was made to hold omu (the tender palm frond) in his mouth.

The rule was strict. The omu must not fall until the mission was completed.

This was not theatre. It was law, oath and discipline in one act that bound the messenger with his honour.

The palm frond (Omu nkwu) is among the most sacred symbols of Ndigbo. It represents the presence of Ala and the ancestors.

Wherever omu is tied, that place is handed to the spirits for custody. It announces seclusion and purity. A dibia holds omu between his lips during rites to avoid distraction and to show he acts under divine authority.

The man sent out with omu firmly held in between his lips becomes a moving shrine, set apart and untouchable.

Putting omu in the mouth is an oath. In Igbo custom truth is sworn, not merely spoken. The mouth that holds omu cannot gossip. The messenger may not reveal secrets on the road, nor be lured into quarrels or merriment.

He practices sealing of the mouth. Many peace missions, marriage negotiations and land settlements depended on such discretion.

The omu was a lock on his lips and a witness that would testify if he betrayed trust.

The rite also enforces focus. A man with omu cannot eat anyhow, fight by the wayside, or sleep carelessly. Every step is deliberate because if omu falls, the mission fails.

It demands bodily alertness and mental concentration. It teaches that a serious assignment requires the whole person, not divided attention.

The carrier must be consumed by purpose until delivery.

Omu is also a symbol of peace and safe passage. In conflict, the bearer of omu commanded respect. Even enemies recognised him as a sacred envoy under protection of Ala. To harm him was to invite ancestral wrath.

For this reason omu functioned like ancient diplomatic immunity, guaranteeing safety for one on legitimate errand.

For the modern Igbo man the lessons are urgent.

First is sanctity of commitment. When you accept a task in business, leadership or family, you have placed omu in your mouth. Your word must be your bond.

Today we see too much excuse and abandonment. The ancient code insists you hold firm until the end.

It is an admonition not to drop your standard midway.

Second is focus in an age of distraction. The modern world is noisy with endless talk and social media. Like the old messenger, a man on mission must shut out noise and guard his assignment from disclosure.

Many destinies fail not from lack of ability but because the bearer talked too much and lost his omu.

Finally is trust and honour. Only a man of proven integrity was chosen to carry omu. Elders never sent just anyone. They sent one whose character could bear the weight of the community.

The modern Igbo man must rebuild credibility until worthy of sacred trust. Be silent when silence is required, be disciplined when required, and deliver without letting your omu fall.

13/09/2026

IME OBI ANAMBRA SERIES

ADA N’ERI UKWU ANU: THE WAIST THAT CARRIED A DAUGHTER’S HONOUR

⁃ Kamen Chuks Ogbonna

In traditional Igbo society, Ada n’eri ukwu anụ. What this means is that the daughter eats the waist of the animal. This was not about sharing meat alone but carries a deeper significance. It was a cultural language that recognised the place of daughters, particularly the Ada, the first daughter of the family.

In the traditional Igbo home, sharing meat after a family meal, festival or ceremony was not a free-for-all. Every part of the animal had its place, and elders knew who should receive what.

When a chicken, goat or cow was slaughtered, the ukwu, or waist section, was traditionally reserved for the daughters. In many communities, it went first to the Ada, while in some families it was shared among the Umuada, the daughters of the same family line.

At first glance, this may appear to be simply about food. But there was more to it than met the eye. The waist of the animal was associated with the waist and hips of a woman. In traditional thought, a woman’s waist represented beauty, strength, womanhood and her capacity for motherhood.

Giving the waist part of the meat to daughters therefore carried a deeper meaning. It was an acknowledgement of womanhood and the important role of daughters in the continuity of the family.

The Ada, in particular, held a special position. She was not merely the first girl born into the family; she was regarded as a link between generations and a custodian of family honour.

As she grew older, the Ada became part of the Umuada, the body of daughters who could return to their ancestral home to speak, mediate in disputes and defend the moral standing of the family. When trouble came knocking, the Umuada were often expected to help put things right.

Other parts of the animal also followed traditional rules. The gizzard and heart, for instance, were often reserved for the father or senior men as symbols of authority and seniority. In some traditions, the head and legs of the chicken went to the youngest child. These customs taught children about respect, family hierarchy and belonging.

A related practice known in some Igbo communities as ewu-ukwu, meaning a goat for the waist, was associated with women who had given birth to several children. A goat could be slaughtered to honour the demands and sacrifices of motherhood, particularly the work associated with the woman’s body and waist.

Times have changed, and many modern Igbo families no longer observe these rules strictly. Yet, during funerals, traditional marriages, title-taking ceremonies and major family gatherings, the custom sometimes returns. An elder may still point to the waist portion and declare that it belongs to the daughters.

The deeper lesson of Ada n’eri ukwu anụ is worth remembering. Although traditional Igbo society was largely patriarchal, women and daughters had recognised roles, responsibilities and spaces of influence.

The waist part of the animal meat was therefore not just food. It was a symbol of belonging, honour and womanhood. It reminded the daughter that she mattered and that, regardless of where life took her, she remained part of the family.

Sometimes, culture does not speak through grand ceremonies. It speaks quietly through a piece of meat placed on a plate.

And perhaps that is the enduring message of Ada n’eri ukwu anụ: you may marry out, but you never cease to belong.

04/09/2026

IME OBI ANAMBRA SERIES

HOW ANCIENT IGBOS HANDLED CRIME WITHOUT PRISONS

- Kamen Chuks Ogbonna

There was no prison in ancient Igboland.

There was no king to build one. There were no police to guard it.

Yet there was law and order in the society.

The Igbo believed in Omenala. Omenala was the name given to the customs and traditions of the land.

The land itself is a goddess called Ala.

Our ancients firmly believed that when you do evil, you pollute Ala, the land.

So justice was not about locking a person away. It was about cleansing the land and making peace again.

The Igbo divided bad behaviour into two.

The first is Mmehie. These are small offences like stealing a fowl, insulting an elder, quarrelling, and cheating in trade, etc.

The second is Aru. Aru means abomination. It is a terrible act that the earth vehemently hates. Acts like killing your kinsman, having s*x with your sister, another's wife, or your father's wife, killing during the Week of Peace, and witchcraft that kills.

Mmehie and Aru did not get the same punishment.

For small offences, the Umunna handled it. Umunna is the meeting of the male kinsmen. Elders sit and coordinate it. Both sides speak. Everyone listens.

The goal is not to punish. The goal is to make peace.

The offender may pay back what he stole. He may bring palm wine, kola, or a goat. He may host a small feast for those he offended. Sometimes he is flogged by his age grade.

Sometimes he is shamed. He is tied to a tree in the village square for all to see. The women sing songs about his shame. In Igboland, shame is heavy. A man would rather pay than be shamed.

For lying and hidden cases, the Igbo used oath-taking. They used divination and ordeal. They believed the gods would kill the liar. This fear kept many people honest.

For big abominations, the punishment was heavier.

The offender must cleanse the land. This is called Ikpu Aru. A Dibia offers sacrifice to Ala. Without this, the whole village can suffer famine or disease.

If the person keeps doing evil, the village removes him.

This removal can take many forms.

One is banishment. It is called Nsupu. The village cuts all ties. No one eats with him. No one marries from his house. He becomes a stranger in his own land.

Another is being sold into slavery. A man who steals again and again can be sold off. The reason being that the village is tired of him.

Another is becoming Osu. An Osu is a person dedicated to a shrine. He is an outcast. He cannot live as a freeborn again. His family line is cut off from the community.

The worst is death and the evil forest. A murderer of his kinsman, a witch who confesses, is killed. His body is not buried in Ala's soil. It is thrown into the evil forest. This is to ensure that he will never join the ancestors and therefore will never reincarnate.

This was the final containment. The Igbo did not keep a dangerous man inside. They sent him outside forever.

What can modern Igbo society learn from these ancient ways?

First, justice can be restorative. Today we lock people up and forget them. Ancient Igbo minds tried to repair the harm. The offender paid, apologized, and was reintegrated back into society.

The community people watched him/her with eagle eyes to ensure he had really changed.

Our modern courts can use mediation and community service more to change offenders rather than handing out prison sentences.

Second, shame still works. Not mob action. But community accountability. When age grades, Umuada, and elders speak, young people have no other choice than to listen. We need those institutions again, not just the police.

Third, swift justice. Cases were settled under the tree the same day. No long adjournments for years. That speed built trust.

Fourth, the land matters. Crime was seen as pollution, not just breaking government law. If we see corruption, fraud, and violence as pollution of our land, we will hate it more.

Fifth, removal should be spiritual and social, not just physical. Some people cannot be kept in overcrowded prisons.

Ancient Igbo understood that some behaviours require total separation and ritual cleansing, not just time in a cell.

The prison came with the white man. Before it, the Igbo had peace without walls. If Ndigbo wants to rediscover itself, it must remember that true justice restores the community, it does not just punish the offender.

01/09/2026

IME OBI ANAMBRA SERIES

SEPTEMBER IN THE ANCIENT IGBO WORLD: SEASON OF HARVEST AND ANCESTRAL COMMUNION

- Kamen Chuks Ogbonna

In the traditional life of the Igbo people of south-eastern Nigeria, the period corresponding to what is now known as September occupied a distinctive place within the agricultural and spiritual calendar.

It is the period that gradually marks the end of the rainy season, known as udu mmiri, and marks the gradual transition towards the dry season, or ọkọchị.

Although the rains still fell, their intensity gradually diminished after the heavier downpours of the preceding months, while the land began to yield the mature fruits of the year’s labour.

The period stood between the peak of the wet season and the onset of clearer skies that would eventually usher in the dusty harmattan winds.

For a society whose existence was closely tied to the rhythms of the soil, rainfall and moon, this period carried both practical urgency and profound spiritual significance.

The Igbo traditionally measured time primarily through a lunar system, with the year divided into approximately thirteen months.

Each month consisted of about twenty-eight days and was made up of seven four-day market weeks, known as izu. These weeks revolved around the four sacred market days of Eke, Orie, Afọ and Nkwọ.

The traditional year, or afọ, comprised roughly 364 days, with adjustments made to keep the calendar broadly aligned with the solar cycle and the requirements of agriculture.

Although the names of the months and their precise correspondence varied from one community to another, the widely referenced Nri-influenced calendar places Ọnwa Alọm Chi across August and early September, followed by Ọnwa Ilọ Mmụọ, sometimes referred to as the eighth month, or Ọnwa Asatọ, towards the latter part of September.

These periods formed part of the harvest season and were associated with rites of thanksgiving, spiritual reflection and remembrance.

Yam, regarded as the king of crops, dominated agricultural activities during this period. In many communities, the formal New Yam ceremonies had already taken place in the preceding month, yet the work of harvesting, digging, storing and selecting seed yams continued vigorously into September.

Families attended to their barns, set aside portions of the harvest for ritual purposes and offered thanksgiving to Ala, the earth deity, as well as to yam-associated deities such as Ifejiọkụ and Njoku Ji.

In some areas, including among the Aro people, the Ikeji festival was observed around this period, marking the conclusion of the farming year and ushering in a season of rest, celebration and social interaction.

A successful harvest was not regarded merely as the result of human labour. It was understood as a gift that demanded acknowledgement and gratitude through ritual before the produce could be fully incorporated into everyday life.

Women played a particularly significant role during Ọnwa Alọm Chi. The period was associated with prayer, meditation and reconnection with one’s chi, the personal guardian spirit, as well as with maternal ancestors.

Married daughters returned to their ancestral homes bearing gifts such as yams, livestock, cloth and traditional drinks. Kola nuts were broken, libations were poured, and families gathered in quiet communion at household shrines dedicated to motherhood and lineage.

These practices reinforced bonds between generations and affirmed the complementary spiritual authority and responsibilities of women within the community. Though often intimate and family-centred, the rites were also communal, connecting individual devotion with the wider continuity of the family and lineage.

As September drew to a close, greater attention was given to ancestral spirits through observances associated with Ọnwa Ilọ Mmụọ. Families cleaned their compounds and shrines, gathered food and animals for offerings, and poured libations while invoking the names of ancestors who had gone before them.

The boundary between the world of the living and that of the dead was traditionally perceived as becoming more permeable during such periods. This created an opportunity for thanksgiving, petitions and the renewal of moral and social order.

In places such as Nri and Aguleri, related festivals incorporated the participation of titled men, communal feasting and public expressions of gratitude.

Storytelling beneath the moon preserved the history and traditions of the people, while masquerades, in some communities, served as symbolic manifestations of ancestral presence.

Such ceremonies were believed to purify the land, restore harmony and strengthen the social bonds that held the community together.

Beyond the major religious and agricultural rites, the period also encouraged marriages, feasting and the display of cultural skills.

Young women prepared for marriage, elders resolved disputes, families celebrated their harvests, and communities used the season of relative abundance to strengthen social relationships.

It is important, however, to recognise that these practices were not uniform throughout Igbo land.

Each community adapted its calendar according to its own observations of the moon, agricultural cycles and ancestral traditions. Priests, elders and custodians of tradition played important roles in determining the precise timing of particular ceremonies, ensuring that human activities remained in harmony with the perceived cosmic order.

Taken together, the period corresponding to September in the traditional Igbo world reveals a worldview in which agriculture, spirituality and social life were inseparably connected.

The harvest represented more than material survival; it was a sacred trust.

The ancestors were regarded not simply as people who had departed but as continuing participants in the affairs of the living.

Women and men each performed essential roles in maintaining harmony with Ala, the earth, and with the personal and communal spiritual forces believed to watch over families and communities.

Through these observances, the Igbo marked not merely the passage of time but the renewal of an enduring relationship between the visible world and the unseen forces believed to sustain it.

Happy New Month, folks!

30/08/2026

IME OBI ANAMBRA SERIES

IGBA IZU: THE IGBO WAY OF THINKING TOGETHER BEFORE ACTING

- Kamen Chuks Ogbonna

Igba Izu means to sit and talk together before making any important decision. The words come from two Igbo words. Izu means counsel or advice. Igba means to hold or to do. So Igba Izu is simply the act of holding counsel. For the Igbo people, it is not just a meeting. It is a way of life.

Long ago, most Igbo communities did not have one king who ruled everyone. Power was shared among families, kindreds, and the village. Because there was no single ruler, people had to find a means to govern themselves. That way was consultation.

Elders, age grades, titled men and women would gather to talk about matters that affected the whole community. This system is called a republican system because the people themselves were in charge.

One of the main ideas behind Igba Izu is that no one person has all the wisdom. An Igbo proverb says that "ebe mmadụ abụọ gbakọtara, e nwere amamihe" (where two people gather, there is wisdom). Another saying is "onye ajuju anaghị efu ụzọ" - he who asks questions does not miss his way. Because of this, any big matter must be brought before the group. The matter is explained clearly. Then everyone who has something to say is allowed to speak: the young and the old, the rich and the poor.

After paying heed to everyone's opinion, the group looks for a decision that most people can accept. This is called consensus. Once a decision is made by the group, no single person can easily change it.

This is why the typical Igbo person does not rush into decisions. A decision made in a hurry can bring shame to the family. It can also bring problems to the community. So people take time to think, to ask, and to listen.

The belief is that what affects one person affects everyone. If one person fails, the name of the family suffers. If one person succeeds, the whole family is happy.

Because of this link, people must consult first. The Igbo also say "aka nri kwo aka ekpe, aka ekpe akwo aka nri" (the right hand washes the left hand and vice versa), meaning we need each other in order to succeed.

There are many illustrations of Igba Izu in many parts of Igbo life today. When two families want to engage in marriage, they do not just announce it. First, the elders of both sides will sit for Igba Izu. They will ask questions about the families, check if there is any taboo, and agree on the steps to follow. During burial, the family will also sit for Igba Izu. They will decide the date, the cost, and who will do what. This helps to avoid fights. In business, partners will sit to discuss before they invest money or take a big risk. Even in the town union, nothing major is done until the council of elders has held Igba Izu.

Scholars who have studied Igbo culture say that this practice is very similar to how some other societies make decisions. It is built on three simple rules. First, the matter must be brought out for open discussion. Second, everybody must be allowed to contribute. Third, the final decision must respect what most people believe.

Because of these rules, people feel that the decision belongs to all of them. That is why they support it.

This idea is captured in OHAZURUME (the communal will).

Igba Izu teaches patience, respect, and responsibility. It teaches that leadership is not about shouting orders. It is about listening first. It also protects people from mistakes. When many eyes look at a problem, fewer details are missed.

This is why Igbo communities have stayed strong even without a central king for many years.

In a world that moves very fast today, Igba Izu reminds us to slow down. It reminds us that good decisions need time, talk, and agreement.

The Igbo did not call it democracy with big grammar. They just called it Igba Izu. And it has worked for them for generations.