GOING HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

The Southeast is at at a crossroads – between disciplined non-violence of MASSOB and the fear-laden militancy associated with IPOB, writes KALU OKORONKWO

For nearly 30 years, the South-East’s quest for self-determination has unraveled as a tale of two movements, similar in aspiration yet profoundly different in character and consequence. What began under Ralph Uwazuruike’s MASSOB as a disciplined, non-violent campaign built on civil resistance, symbolic marches, and community mobilisation gradually morphed into a confrontational and militarised push under Nnamdi Kanu’s IPOB.

In this shift from persuasion to fear, from civic agitation to armed defiance, the region has slipped into a vortex where the dream of justice and dignity now competes with the haunting reality of insecurity. The once hopeful anthem of identity revival has been overwhelmed by the echoes of violence, leaving the South-East divided, emotionally drained and economically emaciated. People are now wondering how a legitimate quest for equity became marred in cataclysm.

Today, the phrase “going home for Christmas” has become a quiet prayer for safety. A land once defined by enterprise, hospitality, and communal warmth now grapples with curfews, killings, disappearances, and the suffocating presence of armed non-state actors. Understanding how agitation degenerated into mayhem requires tracing the contrast between two eras: the disciplined non-violence of MASSOB and the fear-laden militancy associated with IPOB.

Founded in 1999, the Movement for the Actualization of the Sovereign State of Biafra (MASSOB) emerged as a platform advocating for an independent Biafran state in the Igbo-dominated South-East. MASSOB argued that since the end of the Nigerian Civil war (1967–1970), successive Nigerian governments have continued to marginalise the Igbo, justifying a renewed push for self-determination.

Led by Chief Ralph Uwazuruike, the group adopted a non-violent 25-stage campaign that would culminate in a United Nations’ supervised referendum.

Uwazuruike anchored MASSOB on the principles of Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr. civil disobedience, symbolic protest, and cultural awakening. The group organised rallies, hoisted flags, enforced boycotts, and built networks of loyalists without establishing an armed wing. Its methods were more symbolic than confrontational, but they were effective in raising consciousness.

MASSOB’s activities; flag raisings, commemorations, and peaceful demonstrations kept the agitation visible yet non-threatening. The group operated under a defined leadership structure, thereby minimising rogue actions. Although MASSOB had its flaws, including allegations of extortion in some areas, it did not weaponise fear or unleash violence. Internal discipline helped prevent the emergence of armed splinter factions.

For many Igbo people, MASSOB represented agitation with dignity, a platform for political expression that did not endanger communities. Even the state, though often repressive, did not see MASSOB as an existential threat because it lacked the machinery of violence.

But the entry of Nnamdi Kanu’s IPOB in 2012 changed the trajectory dramatically, transforming what had been a largely peaceful struggle into a storm of fear, splinter militias, and ceaseless violence. Under Kanu, agitation shifted from symbolic protest to charged confrontation. Leveraging radio broadcasts, diaspora funding, and digital mobilisation, Kanu framed the struggle as a revolution rather than advocacy.

The creation of the Eastern Security Network (ESN) in 2017, initially a response to insecurity and herdsmen attacks, soon spiraled beyond oversight or discipline. It evolved into a parallel armed force, triggering military backlash, and became a magnet for criminal opportunists.

Clashes between ESN and security forces destabilised communities, eroded trust, and militarised the South East region. IPOB gradually lost internal discipline. ESN morphed into an armed militia whose operations, though praised in online Biafra spaces, deepened insecurity on the ground.

As IPOB fractured, violent splinter groups emerged, many claiming IPOB affiliation to legitimise their activities. The anonymity of agitation became a cover for criminals. Communities, caught between state crackdowns and militia violence, suffered heavily. This breakdown created a security vacuum in rural areas and birthed the “unknown gunmen” phenomenon.

What began as ESN factions or criminal opportunists exploiting the Biafra agitation soon turned into a reign of terror: targeted assassinations of politicians, traditional rulers, and security personnel; attacks on police stations; communities displaced during military raids, journalists, lawyers, and activists abducted or intimidated, businesses crippled by enforced sit-at-home orders, students unable to take exams due to lockdown and highways transformed into kidnap hotspots.

The once peaceful agitation for self-determination now resembles an internal conflict, one that has shredded the social fabric of Igbo society and undermined its economic prospects.

Ironically, IPOB continues to claim that “Biafrans have officially asked to leave Nigeria.” Yet, to date, there has been no formal, documented request for secession from the South-East; no petition, no referendum process, no legal motion, no record anywhere. Secession is not protected under the Nigerian Constitution. No sovereign nation treats threats of balkanisation lightly, and none accepts unilateral declarations of independence.

The South-East already has representation in the National Assembly through elected officials. Only the National Assembly, not an individual or a private movement can process any formal motion on behalf of the people. At the state level, every South-East governor is Igbo and constitutionally empowered to pursue regional interests.

Many confuse self-determination with secession, yet they are not synonymous. Self-determination involves the pursuit of autonomy, cultural preservation, and fair representation within an existing state framework like a community seeking autonomous status through legal channels.

Secession, on the other hand, entails a unilateral breakaway which is unconstitutional and illegal in Nigeria.

IPOB has not followed any recognised path to self-determination. It cannot produce evidence of formal submissions to the UN or any legitimate international body. No country negotiates with a movement registered as a limited liability company.

What IPOB has are photo-ops of Kanu and the Diaspora followers posing at random with Western officials outside UN buildings, attempting to pass off selfies as diplomacy. But the UN Charter on Self-Determination requires documented intent, structured negotiation, non-violence, and recognised representation.

Kanu eliminated all these possibilities the moment he formed ESN and embraced armed struggle.

The myth of “we already asked to leave Nigeria” persists because Kanu understands that for many emotionally charged followers, invoking “Ndi Igbo” and “freedom” is enough to override logic.

If the Igbo truly asked to leave Nigeria, why do nearly all prominent Igbo elites, those with wealth, political influence maintain their businesses, homes, and investments across Nigeria?

How do you secede without political leaders, without an economic backbone, without consensus; armed only with online broadcasts, hashtags, and rage? What is the endgame? Shouting “Biafra or Death!” while setting the South-East ablaze only makes the region unlivable for its own people.

History is unequivocal: legitimate agitation succeeds when anchored on discipline and non-violence.

India’s independence movement triumphed because Gandhi insisted that protesters must not retaliate even under extreme provocation.

The US Civil Rights Movement dismantled segregation through marches, sit-ins, and legal advocacy, not through militias.

South Africa’s anti-apartheid struggle prevailed when Mandela embraced structured negotiation.

Scotland and Catalonia relied on referenda, activism, and political engagement not armed groups.

The Baltic states regained independence through the “Singing Revolution,” a peaceful mass mobilisation.

In all cases, movements rooted in moral authority outclassed state repression. The world listens to a people who refuse to shed blood not those who normalise it.

The South-East today is a portrait of contradictions: proud yet bleeding, resilient yet frightened, hopeful yet suffocating under insecurity. The major consequences are that Investors flee, businesses relocate, families avoid home, and youths become foot soldiers in a struggle they scarcely understand because chaos has never delivered freedom, only grief.

The Igbo struggle for justice, belonging, and political relevance is legitimate. The anger is justified, and the historical wounds are real. But no nation has ever secured liberation through indiscipline, internal terror, or the romanticisation of armed struggle.

The path forward must be clear: reject violence; rebuild community vigilance and moral leadership, embrace peaceful advocacy, disown militias and criminal opportunists and reclaim the narrative from rogue   elements.

Only peaceful agitation can restore hope. Only structured diplomacy can win allies. Only disciplined protest can attract global attention. Only moral authority can outlive cycles of force and retaliation.

The South-East stands at a crossroads. One path leads deeper into chaos; the other demands courage, restraint, and collective wisdom. If the people choose the latter, the region can reclaim its soul and perhaps, finally, the world will listen.

The struggle for justice is not the struggle for war, and history has never been kind to those who confuse the two.

Okoronkwo is a communications strategist, a leadership and good governance advocate