Igboamaeze: A Musing on the Igbo Landing Saga
The Igbo Landing is neither just a story nor historical site. It is a cultural legacy that traces back to a core element of the Igbo worldview, summarized in the axiom “Igbo-ama-eze”. This simply means that the “Igbo knows no king”. This maxim succinctly captures an egalitarian philosophy of resilience and indomitability, which has guided the Igbo people from time immemorial and continues to this day.
In 1803, at the site of the Igbo Landing, a significant event unfolded that exemplified the convergence of human and spiritual agency, in the shaping and assertion of existence. In this context, existence does not necessarily denote novelty, but rather what had yet to be witnessed in a specific era, manner, or scale, as energy is neither created nor destroyed.
Fact or Fable?
Since accounts primarily survived through oral tradition (particularly that of the Gullah Geechee people), there are multiple versions of the Igbo Landing. Unsurprisingly, this fact has dealt a blow to the pedigree of the narrative, such that Western historians once considered it a legend and nothing more. Knowing that stories have long served as tools of generational empowerment for human societies, this somewhat condescending skepticism has continued to deny the Igbo Landing any legacy it could have bequeathed to Igbos (and African descendants) in the diaspora. This commentary briefly examines the significance of the Igbo Landing in the context of the Igbo worldview, and its influence on contemporary movements for equity and equality among people of color.
During a voyage in 1803, around 75 Igbo slaves rebelled against their captors, overpowered them, and took control of the slave ship at the port. These slaves were bought for $100 each, were chained up before the voyage, and were intended to be sold for labor on plantations and other domestic work in the Americas. They had been captured from the region near the lower Niger River, which is now part of Southeastern Nigeria. This region was known to its people as the “Land of the Rising Sun,” hence why the Igbo people often refer to themselves as Umu Anyanwu (Children of the Sun). Unfortunately, most of the men and women on board that ship in 1803 would never witness the sunrise in their homeland again. After the rebellion, the ship was grounded in Dunbar Creek on St. Simon Island in Glynn County, Georgia, and this site is now recognized as a historic landmark known as the “Igbo Landing”.
Homecoming - “Water No Get Enemy”
Following the Landing, the slaves, led by a chief, marched ashore and went on to commit mass suicide by drowning. One account suggested that as they marched into the water, they sang in Igbo, saying, “The water spirit brought us; the water spirit will take us home”. As an Igbo person, whenever I recall this affirmation, I cannot help but imagine that the water mother, Nnemmili, indeed took those noble ancestors home. With the potentially dangerous nature of a massive body of water, it might be difficult to fathom why a group of rational individuals would choose such a frightening medium for their ‘journey home’. However, this perspective begins to unravel when one remembers the Igbo saying, “mmili enwe ilo” which means “water has no enemy”. The Igbos say this to emphasize the universality and dynamism of the water element. Water is always changing, adapting, and seeking new paths, and it never signifies the end. Anything that goes into the water is seen as closer to a new birth than to death. For this reason, it is natural to interpret the final act of those slaves as a homecoming - a spiritual homecoming that would welcome them into the sacred realm of ancestorhood.
Over a century later, the African American community of St. Simon Island, along with attendees from Nigeria, Brazil, and Haiti, held a procession at the site of the mass suicide. They ordained it as a holy ground and prayed for the deceased souls to rest in peace. Later, scientific research in the 1980s corroborated the historical accounts, attaching a more factual framework to the once-fabled and mythopoeic story of the Igbo Landing.
Kings, Kingdoms, and Defiance
Even if the Igbo Landing is merely a legend, it is imperative to grasp its underlying message. To fully appreciate this, one must consider the ethos of the Igbo people. Furthermore, comprehending this is of monumental importance as it provides a cultural framework that validates the Igbo Landing Story.
Going back to Igboamaeze, when considering this maxim, it is important to consider why kingship was not initially a part of Igbo culture. In ancient times, kings and kingdoms were common, with several well-established monarchies in precolonial West Africa. These included the Kingdom of Dahomey along the Gulf of Guinea coast, and the expansive Oyo Empire stretching from the Volta River to the west and the Niger River to the east. Although these neighboring regions of the Land of the Rising Sun had well-organized monarchical institutions, it took longer for the concept of “kingship” to become as popular among the Igbo people as it is today.
Again, to address this question properly, one must consider the bearing of the Igbo individual. The Igbos are inherently egalitarian. From a young age, I remember my father emphasizing the critical importance of individual industry and willpower. Listening to him meant understanding that we all enter the world as equals. There are no natural-born kings. We choose what to make out of our mortal existence. Growing up in a traditional Igbo society, this was the creed. There was an integral understanding that a person’s fate is largely in their hands because “onye kwere, chi ya ekwere”, meaning, “whatever one agrees to, their personal divinity concurs”. Interestingly, even within the Igbo worldview and its parlance, there are existential limitations to this philosophy for instance, “onye buru chiya uzo, ogbagbuo onwe ya n’oso”, meaning, “if you overtake your personal divinity, you will be exhausted from outrunning yourself”.
In light of the emphasis that the Igbos place on will and self-governance, one begins to understand why they did not follow the typical paramount-ruler model. Instead, they operated a republican general assembly to govern their community. This reflects their belief that an individual is never greater than their people. Although there were efficient subdivisions within these assemblies with different duties, real power resided with the people. The Igbos valued collective and individual autonomy, which fostered the spirit of insuperability that characterizes their lives. Instead of a king, the people stood as authority, and instead of a grand palace, the affairs of the day were decided in the open square called ama. This efficient system was in place until the colonialists arrived and introduced the controversial system of warrant chiefs, which undermined the status quo and eventually incentivized the practice of traditional rulership amongst the Igbos.
Gods in Chains
In Igbo spirituality, although there is a Supreme God figure, Chukwu, not many references are made to it in traditional Igbo prayer. The natural question that arises then, is that of what main source, the Igbos leverage to connect to the divine in prayer. Although the answer to this question is beyond the scope of this piece, it is necessary to highlight some basics. The primordial Supreme Creator-Force is considered quite high and abstract, akin to the universe itself, which explains why most Igbo societies revere Ala (the Earth divinity) more than any other, as it is the very ground they tread upon and the nearest emanation of the Supreme Creator to them. For more helpful context, one must then cast their mind to a fundamental element of the Igbo cosmology, which posits that when an individual is born into the world, Chukwu’s consciousness is made manifest in them in the form of their chi. This is how Igbos connect to Chukwu or Chi-ukwu (the Supreme God) or Chineke (God the Creator). Chi is essentially then, the creative consciousness of Chukwu, flowing in every living being. For that reason, the Igbos say that Chukwu is inside all of us and that all our individual bodies house a part of Chukwu. As a result, the Igbos have a more practical relationship with their individual chi, which is a fundamental part of their spiritual connection to the divine. While it might appear to be a paradox of belief, this direct connection with their individual chi is the same metaphysical fabric that makes the idea of easily yielding to a supreme divine figure or an unmatched physical or abstract power unlikely. Flowing from the foregoing, what the captors of the Igbo Landing ancestors could then not have realized, was that it was scores of these chis (gods) that they put in chains and heaved aboard a slave ship.
Another facet of Igbo culture that emphasizes this point is the concept of Ikenga. Ikenga which translates to “strength of movement”, is a sacred symbol that represents a person’s life-force and drive to achieve their destiny. However, despite the reverence accorded to an individual’s Ikenga, if at any point, an individual’s Ikenga is considered unsupportive of a positive drive in their life, the Igbos would customarily take the figurine to a designated location and smash it into pieces. This action makes sense in the Igbo culture because “Ikenga adighi ile, azila ya nku” (an inactive Ikenga is cut for firewood). This concept presents further perspective on the determination and resilience of the Igbo people, as seen in the story of the slaves of the Igbo Landing who were driven individuals willing to go to any length to avoid being yoked to a point of powerlessness. Their unwavering stance transcended time and space and was not limited to any specific location or circumstance. It doesn’t matter, and it never will, whether the oppression is obvious or subtle. It could happen in any region of the Land of the Rising Sun, from Nsukka to Lekki, where many still hold the sentiment that controversial actions and omissions of the Nigerian government in October 2020 accounted for the deaths and bodily harm of unarmed protesters. It could happen in the Land of the Free, from Selma to Montgomery, where hundreds of protesters from all over the United States were attacked during the march in 1965 to challenge racial injustice in America, or at the intersection of East 38th Street and Chicago Street in Minneapolis where George Floyd was murdered by Derek Chauvin, an officer with the Minneapolis Police Department. It could be sanctioned by a kingdom or a government, downplayed by the media, carried out by a uniformed person on the streets, or a suited one in the office, but still, it won't matter. It is a dead god. The flames are calling for it.
The Weight of a Legacy
The Igbo Landing may have its roots in Igbo culture, but its significance extends far beyond that. For one, the story is well-preserved in the folk traditions of the Gullah Geechee people in present-day North Carolina and yet, evidently less known amongst Igbo circles in Nigeria. The descendants of the slaves who walked these shores can be found across Africa and in the diaspora, carrying the same blood that flowed through their ancestors’ veins. Before their forced migration, these slaves lived in what is now present-day Nigeria, which these slaves referred to as the “Land of the Rising Sun”. Despite the diversity of ethnicities in Nigeria, there is a shared trait that unites Nigerians at home and abroad: resilience. This resilience is reflected in their adaptability, ambition, remarkable sense of humor even in the face of adversity, and their groundbreaking achievements in various fields.
In considering the extensive legacy of the Igbo Landing story for both Nigerians and black people in the diaspora, I dare to ask the same question that doubtlessly coursed through the minds of the Igbo Landing ancestors. If we renounced kingship in our land and put divinity in place when it misbehaved, then, by all things sacred, who are these foreign slave dealers that we would bow our heads in captivity? The choice was clear for them, but for the bewildered slavers and imperialist historians, the question remained singular and yet multifaceted. How can one make sense of such madness? You cannot comprehend that madness until you ask once more: how can you conquer a people whose ruler is the people themselves? Hence, these ancestors remained a mystery and legend to their slavers and oppressors, who lacked knowledge of the fact that a group of people who have themselves as their leader cannot be conquered. They could not understand that no single individual is ever greater than the people neither could they grasp the power of Igwebuike (unity is strength). And so, this was the response of the Igbo Landing slaves to a life in chains: if we must till the ground in labor, it must be on our land. If the blistering heat of the sun must hug our regal skin, it must not be in servitude. If our blood must touch the earth, it must not be by a man’s whip. If it must be otherwise, then may the river swallow our bodies whole and regurgitate our spirits as free ancestors.
