All wars are awful, but civil wars are regarded as the worst kind, as they turn brothers into enemies and force civilians to choose sides. January the 15th marked not only the anniversary of the first military coup in Nigeria’s history but also the beginning of her bloody civil war a year later. Though these two chapters have had a tremendous impact on the course of Nigeria’s history, they are shrouded in the most secrecy and conspiracy.
One startling aspect of Nigeria’s civil war, is the glaring difference in the accounts among the different people from the various regions of Nigeria, which is further exacerbated by the fact that there is no official account of the events of the war.
On the morning of January 15th 1966, a coup led by Major Chukwuma Kaduna Nzeogwu and Emmanuel Ifeajuna would eliminate several senior officials of the then parliamentary government, despite maintaining that the coup was for the good of all Nigerians. The loss of major political figures particularly from the north cultivated a perception that the coup was orchestrated to only serve the interest of the Igbos.
Nigeria was witnessing its first power struggle as an independent nation. Months of civic unrest lead to worsening economic situations, following the controversial 1965 parliamentary elections, which birthed the geo-tribal fault lines between the 4 regions of the country and their corresponding ‘dominant tribes’. This is a trait that has continued to characterise politicking in Nigeria, even today. Numerical discrepancies between the voter numbers and census returns, resulted in a boycott of the election by the UPGA party in the eastern region. The resulting election was marred with reports of ballot stuffing and irregularities.
Following Nzeogwu’s coup, Nigeria’s acting president Nwafor Orizu (Nnamdi Azikiwe was not in Nigeria at the time) announced a voluntary decision by the cabinet to transfer power to Nigeria’s armed forces. As a result, Major General Aguiyi Ironsi was installed as head of state, setting the precedence of military takeovers that would mark most of the political development of Nigeria, till the very end of the 20th century.
As interim commander-in-chief, Ironsi sought to return calm to the country, but failed to punish the coup plotters. Following a counter coup in July, Yakubu Gowon would assume power, and from June to October of 1966, riots in the northern region of Nigeria would leave thousands of Igbos dead, and forcing up to a million to return to the eastern region of the country. The federal government’s response to the crisis was slow and failed to quell the loss of life. On May 30th 1967, Odumegwu Ojukwu would declare the eastern region a sovereign republic named ‘Biafra’. War would break shortly after in July following failed peace talks in Aburi Ghana. An estimated 2 million civilians, mostly of Igbo origin were lost as a result of the conflict, with many more displaced.
Following the war, Yakubu Gowon decreed ‘No victor, No vanquished’, a mindset aimed at quickly moving past the harrowing memories of the war, and reintegrating Igbos and the eastern part of Nigeria. Despite this mantra, the reality of returning back to Nigeria was far from resuming the norm, as most Igbos lost possession of their property in other parts of Nigeria (receiving only a 20 pound compensation), and continued to face stigma as a result of their ethnic identity.
The war, and the divisions it caused in its wake are not simply repairable by ignoring the past. Secrecy only serves as a breeding ground of festered wounds, and when proper context is not provided for such heavy and important national events, the emotion and resentment can be manipulated by vested interests, spawning more problems and serving to deepen already strained ties amongst the ethnicities in Nigeria.
Embracing the past is a concrete step towards achieving closure and ensuring that the same mistakes are not repeated. A country like Rwanda has since its own brutal civil war acknowledged and integrated the memory of the war into its national consciousness, ensuring that all her citizens understand the price of war, and know exactly what lead to the sad turn of events. It would be very hard for an individual to manipulate the sentiment around the war for personal gain, as the clarity of history would be too glaring to overlook.
Despite the devastating effects of the war on both sides, with atrocities committed towards ethnic Igbos since the war continue to form the backbone of the economic and socio-political development in Nigeria, owing to their dexterity and resilience. It is my hope that we reach a point in Nigeria where we can openly discuss the ills in our society, with a mindset of finding sustainable solutions, and further entrenching our nation’s unity.
Nigeria’s Civil war is instructional material for future generations, and its inclusion as a compulsory part of the national curriculum will help future generations appreciate the sacrifices and diversity that has brought this country so far. It is of no use protecting the memories of our fallen heroes if we do not tell their stories, honestly and completely, and make sure that the unity fought for is further entrenched by carrying every section of the country along.
It is unfortunate that the killings could not have been prevented, and the paranoia around power and control prevented us from setting aside our differences to sight a unified vision, however it would be a disservice to the memories of those affected by the war, dead and many still alive, to not acknowledge and learn about our trials as a nation, in order to build a safer and more united society for future generations to develop in.
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Djaji is a creative Vagabond, send me your takes on music and African culture @djajiprime
Rigo Kamp’s Marathon video is an intimate Afro-juju revival that pays homage to Sir Shina Peters and stamps...
Last Friday, Rigo Kamp, a NATIVE uNder alum and one of the architects of an equal parts nostalgic and...
Last Friday, Rigo Kamp, a NATIVE uNder alum and one of the architects of an equal parts nostalgic and refreshing sound released his self-titled debut EP, delivering a propulsive fusion of Alte, R&B, Funk, and Soul-infused rhythms.
Featuring previously released singles “Morning Sun”and “Summer”, the six-track eponymous EP executively produced by Odunsi The Engine sees Rigo lean heavily into his element as a sonic alchemist, jumping from silky falsettos to gritty grooves without losing an ounce of cohesion, and ultimately stamping the Abuja-born, Lagos-based singer-songwriter as a mad scientist of sound.
Just last November, Apple Music named Rigo Kamp as its Up Next artist, an acknowledgment that underscored his potential and confirmed what the tastemakers and underground scene already knew. Weeks later, he delivered an exhilarating live set for Spotify Fresh Finds in Lagos, proving he’s just as compelling live as he is in the studio.
On “Marathon”,the refreshing opener to the Rigo Kamp EP, Rigo borrows the bounce and swagger of Afro-Juju legend, Sir Shina Peters’ golden-era, fusing nostalgia with re-imagination to birth a vintage performance that feels like a private party for two, where it’s just Rigo, and you.
Get an exclusive first look at the video for Marathon here:
Togo YEYE is a community we are building for us by
Togo YEYE, a creative duo formed by Lomé-based creative director Malaika Nabillatou and London-based...
Togo YEYE, a creative duo formed by Lomé-based creative director Malaika Nabillatou and London-based photographer Delali Ayivi, is a conceptual publication that was created to empower and champion Togo’s young fashion creatives. Since its inception in 2021, Togo YEYE has released several personal projects and has also partnered with a number of brands to further its hugely imaginative aesthetic mandate. For their latest collaboration, Togo YEYE teamed up with textile printing company VLISCO to present Blossoming Beauty. Tagged as a love letter to Togo’s creative community, the campaign captures Lomé’s scenic beauty alongside VLISCO’s vibrant prints with the aim of connecting the feminine grace of nature with identity and artistry.
What does Togo YEYE mean?
Malaika Nabilatou: My name is Malaika Nabilatou, I’m the creative director of Togo YEYE. I’m Togolese and I was born and grew up in Lomé. I see myself as a West African creative director and I’m working to be the best in a few years. Togo YEYE means new Togo in Ewe, one of the most popular languages spoken in the South of Togo.
What inspired you to create Togo YEYE?
Malaika Nabilatou: We started this project, my friend Delali and I, 5 years ago. We just wanted to show that Togolese youth are also creative. Togo YEYE is a community we are building for us by us. It wasn’t just a project for Delali and I. It’s become something for the creative scene of Lomé. Lomé is like our studio.
What role does Togolese culture play in your creative process?
Maryline Bolognima: For me, Togolese culture comes first. For example, in the South, there are the people of Anero. If you come, you can go to Anero. In the North, there are the Evals, so if you come to Togo, you’ll learn a lot.
What’s the most exciting part of working as a team on projects like this?
Malaika Nabilatou: I need to tell the truth, we dreamt about this campaign before [it happened]. When VLISCO contacted us, we were like wow. I can’t really explain how thankful we are to VLISCO for trusting us. Because it’s a risk that they took by trusting us, making that campaign here with our team and honestly we are going to keep it in our hearts for the rest of our lives.
Claudia Sodogbe: For me, it is the first big contract of my life that I had with Togo YEYE. I still remember, on the last day of the shoot, I was feeling nostalgic about separating from the teams and the others. It went well in any case, and I’m very grateful to have been on this project.
What has been your proudest moment as part of Togo YEYE?
Malaika Nabilatou: I think the proudest moment I had with this campaign was when I saw the result first on the website. When I saw the story, I was like “wow, we finally made it.”
No matter who you, these parties provide a safe space to let loose without fear of objectification or...
The crowd marches along on the dancefloor, vibrating to a pulse that is both familiar and electrifying. It...
The crowd marches along on the dancefloor, vibrating to a pulse that is both familiar and electrifying. It takes a second to identify Grammy nominee, Rema’s “Ozeba,” pouring out of the speakers and whipping the crowd into a frenzy as it takes on new life as a turbulent EDM track. The crowd growls and screams in approval of the DJ’s remix, yet another banger in a night filled with back-to-back hits. Hands in the air, sweat dripping from glistening bodies, smoke floating around the dancefloor and young people gyrating with reckless abandon, Element House provides the people with the release they deserve and they reward it with an undying loyalty to its rhythm and raves as they keep coming back.
Party culture has taken on new dimensions in Nigeria over the last two decades as a reaction to economic, social and cultural progressions. This evolution of the way we party is significant considering that Nigeria is a society that lays heavy emphasis on certain accepted standards of moral behavior, rooted in culture and tradition. But that has never once stopped a good time from happening. Millennials and older gen-z will remember the street parties and carnivals of old, usually held at the end of summer holidays or in December, where music by TuFace, Mo’Hits, Akon, Shakira, Lady Gaga and 50 Cent were the staple, among others. There were certain songs automatically expected from any DJ worth his salt otherwise it was not too far-fetched to see a DJ, with his equipment on his head, fleeing for his safety while being chased by an irate mob of partygoers.
The more things change, the more they stay the same. These carnivals and street parties might have been phased out but the idea remains the same while the power and influence of communities powering party culture in Lagos and Nigeria at large has only gotten stronger, especially with the advent of social media. The Block Party series–started in Lagos, Nigeria as the Mainland Block Party–has become the go-to event to celebrate youth culture and foster connections that cut across multiple African cities and walks of life. Today, with curated events in Ibadan, Abuja, Lagos, Accra and others, a community of partygoers is assured maximum enjoyment whenever the Block Party organisers announce an event in their city of the month. The people will always return to where their tastes are catered to, bringing along friends, family and newbies eager to bask in the atmosphere of loud music and togetherness.
In 2012, Warner Bros. Pictures released Project X–a film that follows three friends and high-school students who attempt to gain popularity by throwing a party which ends up escalating out of their control and reaching epic proportions. This idea propagated by Hollywood would go on to influence several house parties thrown in Lagos during the mid to late 2010s. The idea that with the right DJ/music playing at the right venue and with just the right crowd, then immortality was possible–a party so grand that it would be spoken about in glowing terms for years to come until it became lore. Today, house parties are more intimate and controlled, the degrees of separation between attendees reduced by a mutual friend or WhatsApp group they all have in common. From game nights to karaoke sessions to kinky sex parties, whether it’s at Balloons & Cups, a Vogue Boys pool party, or a get-together by the ‘Lagos on a Budget’ IG Community, the role house parties play in the ever evolving party culture is not insignificant, creating a pipeline that feeds into the much larger raves which weekends in Lagos are becoming synonymous with.
Whether it’s Element House today, Mainland House tomorrow, Group Therapy next weekend, WIRED or a host of other house and EDM inspired movements, partygoers are spoiled for choice when it comes to where to indulge their fundamental music tastes in a secure and controlled environment. Nothing is off the menu and a good time is the only badge of honor worth collecting. The increasing popularity of the rave movement in recent years is testament to the fact that it works for both organizers and attendees. The Covid-19 lockdowns changed the way Nigerians party; after months of being isolated from their communities and having to socialize in more intimate and private spaces, it’s no surprise that raves, with their underground nature, became the outlet of choice for several young people as soon as the world opened back up. According to Tonia, a medical doctor and frequent raver living in Lagos, her first few times at parties following the end of the lockdowns were not fun. “I was partying with caution, wearing face masks constantly and carrying hand sanitizer around. It became a much better experience subsequently when everything relaxed and soon enough, I was back enjoying the time of my life at Lagos parties.”
Unburdened from the heavy spending, bottle-popping culture that characterizes Lagos nightlife and cloaked in the embrace of judgment-free anonymity and numbers, raves have become a safe haven for a community of partygoers determined to turn up in the midst of the sheer craziness of living in this day and age. For Michael-Peace, a brand & creative assistant and frequent raver, the appeal goes beyond a need to unwind and the feelings of peace he experiences at raves. “Whether I’m listening to the DJ or just watching the crowd move to the music, it’s a very mindful experience for me,” he says.“I’m grateful to just be there and appreciative of how we can all be one community or family for that period of time.”
The appeal of the rave scene is its inclusivity and it’s a common theme for the new wave of parties exploding in Lagos and environs. No matter who you are or what you stand for, these parties provide a safe space to let loose without fear of objectification or discrimination resulting from socio-economic and political differences, misogyny and other less elegant occurrences which are part of mainstream Nigerian nightlife. This is important to Tonia who, on multiple occasions, has been prevented by bouncers from entering clubs without a male companion. “I’ll always prefer raves, they are much freer and nobody is performing here. There’s no need to show off the number of bottles you bought like there is in a club. Everyone just wants to turn the fuck up and have the time of their lives.”
For five or six hours, the disco lights, turbulent music and fellow ravers provide solace from the outside world. “Dancing the night away” is not merely a suggestion but a divine mandate from the gods of the rave. It is almost impossible to emerge after such an experience and not want to do it again. The music beckons all and sundry to come out, purge yourself of all inhibitions on the dancefloor, then return home and spread the gospel of the electronic music scene to all who might listen. In Michael-Peace’s own words: “There are people I’ve put onto raves and who loved the experience and constantly thank me for introducing them to it. Once you get hooked on it, you’ll never want to let go.”
Party culture in Nigeria continues to evolve as the new wave of parties mark their time and place in history. But the street parties and carnivals of yesteryears are not to be forgotten. The power of community continues to connect the old wave with the new wave, ensuring that actual people remain the focal point of these events, and party goers can enjoy nightlife experiences uniquely tailored to their ever changing wants and needs.