The Igbo Were Never Kingdoms: Reclaiming a Republican Legacy - EK Gwuru, Ph.D
Among the peoples of Africa, the Igbo of Southeast Nigeria stand apart for their unique political philosophy. For centuries, the Igbo thrived without kings or centralized monarchies. We built a society in which every village was autonomous, every adult man had a voice, and authority flowed upward from the people, not downward from a throne. We gave the world republican democracy long before Athen knew what republic means.
Yet, in recent decades, a disturbing woke trend has emerged. Communities across Igboland now describe themselves as “ancient kingdoms,” inventing crowns and palaces where none historically existed. Coronations are staged with borrowed regalia, chiefs are styled “His Royal Majesty,” and towns with centuries-old republican traditions now market themselves as monarchies.
This reinvention may appear harmless, but it is, in truth, a distortion of Igbo history. To describe an Igbo town as a “kingdom” is not only historically inaccurate but culturally misleading and politically dangerous. We know that the origin of monarchies, anywhere on earth. Is banditry. It is against Chukwu Okike Abiama to suggest that all men are not born equal.
Precolonial Igbo society was marked by a system of acephalous republicanism. There were no central monarchs. Instead, power was dispersed across several institutions:
i. The Village Assembly (Ama Ala): The ultimate decision-making body, where every adult male had the right to speak. Decisions were reached by persuasion and consensus.
ii. Age-Grade Systems (Ogbo): Civic groups that ensured discipline, security, and development.
iii. Councils of Elders (Ndi Ichie): Senior men whose wisdom guided, but who remained accountable to the people.
iv. Title Societies (e.g., Ozo): Structures of merit and prestige earned by service and achievement, not inherited through bloodline.
Yes, some communities used titles such as Eze or Obi, but these did not correspond to monarchs in the mould of the Benin Oba or Sokoto Sultan. The Igbo eze was often a ritual figurehead, symbolic representative, or spiritual custodian, never an absolute ruler.
The Igbo proverb says it clearly: Igbo enwe eze; the Igbo have no king.
When the British invaders colonised Igboland, they struggled to apply indirect rule. In the North, emirs served as convenient intermediaries. In Yoruba land, kings fulfilled the same role. The Igbo, however, had no monarchs. To solve this “problem,” the British manufactured rulers called Warrant Chiefs.
These men, many chosen arbitrarily, were given colonial certificates of authority. Lacking legitimacy, they deployed banditry and ruled harshly, sparking resentment. The Aba Women’s War of 1929 was a direct revolt against the abuses of these imposed chiefs.
Over time, however, families of warrant chiefs entrenched themselves as hereditary rulers, constructing palaces, inventing genealogies, and retroactively branding themselves as “ancient kings.”
Today, these distortions live on in the growing number of Igbo “kingdoms.”
One may cite Onitsha as an Igbo town with a king. However, it needs be said that the people of Idu (Igbo people) were escaping from the Ogu Idu na Oba (the war between the people of Idu and the marauding people of Ife with their Oba. Onitsha today proudly proclaims its Obi as the custodian of one of Igboland’s most prominent “kingdoms.” But Onitsha’s monarchy is a historical exception, not the Igbo norm. Onitsha returnees from across the Niger (though Igbo who sojourned in Benin) but retained elements of their Edo-Benin culture, including kingship traditions. To hold up Onitsha as proof that the Igbo were monarchic is misleading. Onitsha is an outlier, not a template.
In the case of Nri often described as the “cradle of Igbo civilization” and home to an ancient kingship system, their priests exercised ritual and spiritual authority, their power was not political or coercive. They were respected for their role in cleansing abominations and preserving Igbo cosmology, not for issuing decrees or ruling subjects. To call Nri an “ancient kingdom” is to impose monarchic language on what was essentially a sacred priesthood.
For the Aro Confederacy, they commanded influence across Igboland and beyond, but it was built on networks of trade, religion, and alliances, not centralized monarchy. The so-called “Eze Aro” was one among equals, and Aro dominance stemmed from the oracle of Ibini Ukpabi and its commercial might. Describing Arochukwu as a kingdom erases the federated, republican nature of its governance.
In recent years, many Nsukka-area towns have embraced kingship titles, often justifying them with thin claims of “ancient stools.” These were autonomous communities that only acquired “royal fathers” in the colonial and postcolonial periods. The proliferation of such “kingdoms” has created endless disputes over who holds the “true” crown, a problem unknown in authentic Igbo republican life.
The kingdom narrative persists because:
i. Warrant chiefs became hereditary rulers, later rebranded as “traditional rulers.”
ii. In a Nigeria where monarchs are revered, Igbo communities fear being seen as “lesser” without a king.
iii. State and federal governments often channel patronage through traditional rulers, incentivizing communities to invent monarchs.
iv. Younger generations are disconnected from precolonial traditions and readily accept crowns as symbols of authenticity.
v. Pentecostalism and Western fascination with royalty romanticize crowns and thrones.
There are inherent dangers in the false kingship we now have in Igboland:
i. The more “kingdoms” we invent, the further we drift from historical truth thereby destroying our history.
ii. Igbo uniqueness lies in its republicanism, not monarchy. To abandon this is to erase what sets us apart.
iii. Artificial monarchies breed endless disputes, two or three “kings” in the same town, rival claims to thrones, and inter-village rivalries.
iv. Where kingship takes root, hereditary privilege trumps Igbo traditions of self-made prestige. This renders our Umunna model irrelevant.
v. At a time when democracy is under threat globally, we risk abandoning our ancient, indigenous form of participatory governance.
We can reclaim our republican legacy. To achieve this and remain true to ourselves, urgent steps are required:
i. Teach Igbo children that their ancestors were republicans, not monarchists.
ii. Our universities must research and publish accessible works on Igbo governance.
iii. The Nigerian media and Igbo stakeholder should stop uncritically parroting “ancient kingdom” narratives.
iv. Our villages must resist the urge to invent crowns for prestige or government recognition.
v. Our festivals, films, and literature should glorify Igbo republicanism as a legacy equal in dignity to the monarchies of other nations.
There is the fierce urgency to rally behind honesty and repudiate any attempt to rewrite our history. It is not shameful that the Igbo had no kings. On the contrary, it is our pride. While other nations bowed to crowns, the Igbo bowed only to the collective will of the people. While others exalted monarchs, the Igbo exalted the village assembly.
Onitsha may have its Obi, Nri its priest-kings, Arochukwu its oracle, but these are exceptions within a broader republican fabric. To inflate them into proof of “ancient Igbo kingdoms” is to commit historical fraud.
We are very clear: the Igbo were never kingdoms. We were, and remain, a people of the republic. To our misguided communities who cling to crowns, your ancestors would not recognize them. Your people deserve better. And history demands honesty.
Dr. EK Gwuru can be reached at Nkolo Ikembe.
