Ochoga E. Ochoga, PhD.
The recent rejoinder by Mr.Paul Edeh, Chairman of the Central Planning Committee of the proposed Idoma Royal Banquet, though couched in eloquent diction and rhetorical flourish, does little to dispel the fundamental apprehensions that I, and indeed many discerning Idoma minds, have persistently expressed concerning the processes and symbolism that have come to define the Och’Idoma’s recent undertakings.
It becomes imperative, therefore, to respond with lucidity and intellectual candour, for silence, in moments of distortion, may too easily be mistaken for consent.
Mr Edeh’s lyrical assertion that the throne of the Idoma Nation resides eternally in the spirit of its people, while appealing to emotion, subtly diverts attention from the core of the discourse.
My position has never been about the geographical relocation of the throne but about the symbolic desecration of an institution whose legitimacy is rooted in the sanctity of custom and the continuity of process.
Kingship in Idoma land, like in every civilisation with a sense of ancestral consciousness, draws its moral authority not merely from metaphysical abstraction but from fidelity to cultural orthodoxy.
When actions, utterances, and even regalia begin to depart from the time-honoured ethos that lend meaning to Idoma royalty, the question is no longer one of geography but of authenticity.
The stool of the Och’Idoma is indeed eternal, yet its reverence is contingent upon adherence to the values that consecrate it. Eternity devoid of legitimacy is little more than a hollow proclamation.
The claim that the Abuja Idoma-banquet emanated from a collective decision reached at the Otukpo symposium deserves closer scrutiny. If that gathering indeed reflected the collective conscience of the Idoma people, its attendance and enthusiasm would have borne witness to such unanimity.
The palpable apathy that characterised it speaks not of indifference but of disenchantment. To now seek redemption through another summit at the doorstep of Abuja-based Idoma elites betrays a calculated attempt to substitute optics for substance.
A crisis of legitimacy cannot be resolved by the relocation of ceremony. If the heart of Idoma civilisation did not resonate with the Otukpo event, what assurance exists that Abuja removed from the soil of our ancestors would inspire a different verdict?
The moral validation of kingship does not emanate from proximity to political corridors; it flows from fidelity to the collective conscience of the people.
While Mr. Edeh insists that the forthcoming event is a matter of purpose rather than pageantry, antecedents offer a sobering contrast. The preceding symposium, rather than serving as a platform for sober reflection, descended into an exhibition of ceremonial ostentation, with chieftaincy titles distributed in a manner that trivialised their traditional essence.
My apprehension, therefore, is not speculative but informed by precedent. Does a monarch whose authority is revered by custom need to plead for loyalty through banquets and banter?
The title Agaba-Idu (Ogaba-idu) is not an invocation for allegiance; it is the embodiment of innate royalty. Where loyalty must be sought, legitimacy has already begun to wither.
It is noble that His Majesty aspires to listen and to unify, yet unity that is allergic to introspection is perilously fragile. Constructive criticism is not rebellion; it is the heartbeat of enlightened monarchy.
The tendency among some courtiers to stigmatise dissenting voices as divisive reflects not loyalty but sycophancy, which corrodes the moral fibre of any institution.
The Idoma nation, long distinguished by its philosophical depth and cultural refinement, cannot be expected to acquiesce to a neo-normal that replaces inherited decorum with flamboyant experimentation, whether expressed in speech, attire, or ritual conduct.
No throne can claim greater affection than the traditions that sustain it.
Mr.Edeh’s reinterpretation of the expression Otseme (“there is no more kingship”) as an act of heresy against Idoma cosmology is both theologically and sociologically misplaced.
The lamentation does not deny the metaphysical continuity of the throne; rather, it mourns its perceived moral and cultural decline. The people’s lament is not a rejection of kingship itself but a protest against what kingship has become under its current manifestation.
This distinction is crucial, for it embodies the anguish of a people who feel alienated from the soul of their own institution.
Unity is an imperative, but unity that is purchased at the cost of truth becomes tyranny masked as peace. The path to genuine reconciliation is not paved with the suppression of inquiry but with the courage to confront uncomfortable realities.
To dismiss legitimate concern as bitterness or ego is to trivialise the collective conscience of a dignified people whose history is replete with intellectual rigour and cultural pride.
Let it, therefore, be understood without equivocation that my concern does not rest upon the person of His Royal Majesty but upon the processes and practices that underpin his ascension and define his reign.
The Och’Idoma throne must remain an altar of cultural sanctity, not a theatre for modern ostentation. Until the fundamental issues of legitimacy, process, and adherence to ancestral norms are sincerely addressed, no assemblage, whether convened in Otukpo, Abuja, or any other city, can confer the moral authority that true kingship commands.
No monarch can profess devotion to the throne while disregarding the traditions that give it life. This remains a solemn reminder and a compelling reflection for the architects and apostles of the so-called neo-normal in Idomaland.
The author can be reached via ochogaeochoga@gmail.com
Ochoga E. Ochoga, PhD.
