The 30th of August 2017 will remain etched in the political history of the South East as a day when a peaceful path was still possible. On that day, statesmen like Alex Ekwueme, former Vice President of Nigeria, and Ben Nwabueze, SAN, prevailed upon Nnamdi Kanu to reconsider his hardline stance on outright secession. It was a defining moment, one that could have laid the groundwork for a new political bargain between the Nigerian state and the Igbo nation.
Rather than insisting on external self-determination through secession, Kanu agreed to a temporary suspension of agitation in favour of internal self-determination: a return to the 1963 regional constitution, true federalism, and economic control of the East.
He outlined clear, practical conditions:
Expansion and upgrade of Akanu Ibiam International Airport to a functional international hub.
Dredging of River Niger, creation of seaports and railway infrastructure to unlock the region’s economy.
Revival of moribund industries to create jobs and tackle youth unemployment.
Uninterrupted power supply, improved healthcare, and better educational facilities.
Kanu offered to suspend agitation for 12 months, longer if visible progress was made. A follow-up meeting was scheduled for September 15, 2017.
But Nigeria’s military machine struck first.
14 September 2017: The Python Strikes
On the eve of that meeting, September 14, 2017, the Nigerian Army launched a brutal operation on Kanu’s residence in Abia State under the infamous Operation Python Dance II. Twenty-eight unarmed supporters were gunned down in cold blood. Kanu narrowly escaped death and fled the country. The hope of a political resolution was buried under the boots of soldiers.
The tragic irony deepened three days later. On September 17, 2017, the South East Governors’ Forum reconvened, not to demand justice or accountability for the massacre, but to ban the activities of IPOB in the South East. Three days after that, on September 20, the Federal Government of Nigeria officially declared IPOB a terrorist organisation.
What followed was not just the suppression of a movement, it was the radicalisation of a generation.
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From Protest to Persecution: The Road to Radicalisation
The Nigerian state did not meet Kanu’s economic demands. Instead, it militarised the region, rolling out Operation Python Dance I, Operation Python Dance II, and Operation Python Dance III in successive years. Checkpoints multiplied. Arbitrary arrests and extra-judicial killings became routine. Young men were profiled, harassed, and sometimes disappeared without a trace.
The movement’s peaceful momentum eroded. Its members and sympathizers, mostly young, unemployed, and bitter, became fugitives in their own land, driven underground and pushed into desperation. Some turned to criminality; others to militancy. What began as a call for restructuring was deliberately turned into a security crisis.
The state’s hardline approach produced exactly what it claimed to fear: instability.
Elite Silence and the Politics of Cowardice
As all this unfolded, where were the Igbo elite? Where were the governors, the senators, the so-called representatives of Alaigbo?
They watched in silence, or worse, cheered the proscription in a shameful display of political cowardice. Not one governor risked his political comfort to demand justice for the massacre at Afaraukwu. Not one stood firmly against the branding of their own people as terrorists for demanding what other regions negotiate for in boardrooms.
Today, in a cruel twist of fate, aside from his senator and federal house member, it is not the Igbo elite but Omoyele Sowore, a Yoruba man and human rights activist, who is calling for a national protest to free Nnamdi Kanu. A Yoruba man is raising his voice for the freedom of an Igbo man while Igbo governors remain mute, perhaps calculating the political cost of speaking truth to power.
This silence is not neutrality; it is complicity.
When Leadership Forgets Its People
IPOB’s rise was never about guns. It was about frustration, about a generation that watched its region decay while others developed. It was about blocked seaports, grounded airports, dead industries, neglected roads, and a political elite too timid to demand change.
When Kanu spoke, the youth listened because their so-called leaders had long lost credibility. When the state struck, the youth radicalised because no one defended them. When the elite remained silent, criminality filled the vacuum.
Today, hundreds of young men are fugitives, not because they were born criminals, but because their country and their leaders abandoned them.
A Shameful Legacy
The Igbo elite, especially the governors and legislators of the South East, should bow their heads in shame. Their failure to stand up in 2017 sowed the seeds of the insecurity that now plagues the region. Their inaction is why the world now sees IPOB not as a movement for justice but as a security threat. Their cowardice is why a Yoruba man is now leading the moral call to free an Igbo son.
This is not just a political failure; it is a betrayal of a people.
If history records this era truthfully, it will not remember those who sat in air-conditioned offices and calculated their survival. It will remember those who stood, or failed to stand, when their people needed them most.
The story of IPOB’s rise, proscription, and radicalisation is not just the story of a movement. It is the mirror of a region abandoned by its leaders. And until the Igbo elite grow the spine to defend their people, others will continue to speak for us.
By Duruebube Uzii na Abosi
Hon. Chimazuru Nnadi-Oforgu
