Ukomu Igala/Okura State News

The nine founding fathers of Anyigba and its environs were all sons of Àámẹ́-Òhíégá. Àám'Ohiega was a brother to Itodo Aduga; and both of them were sons of Onu Akwùmábì.

When the Ata's throne eluded their father, they travelled north and founded themselves new settlements. The 9 sons of Aam'Ohiega, in order of age, are:
1. Ìdoko Onú-Íyàlè
2. Ákogwu Àkpélè
3. Ákwù Ẹ̀bàkwù
4. Àbùtù Ọwẹ́
5. Ọ́nọ́jáà Agbágwúlá
6. Ìkpómẹ́ẹ̀ - founder of
Ájiòlò Ajìkpóméẹ̀
7. Ìtódóò Oté
8. Òóché
9. Ìtódóò Ọgọ.

Thanks to new research results. All of them were grandsons of Onu Akwumabi, the second (not first) son of Áyẹ́gbà Ọma Ìdoko. How come did he succeed their father, if he was not the first son in line with the law of primogeniture, you might ask?

The answer is this: Ayegba's first son was Ákogwu who, upon the death of their father, was busy arranging a befitting burial for him. That gave Onu the opportunity to lobby for and was secretly installed. He had killed the guard at the rear gate to gain entrance into the palace, hence his name Ákwùmábì, meaning: "Âkpa-adè-àkwù k'ì m'ákwù bì," (The killer of the gate-keeper that opened the gate), which became his chosen royal name.

Now, let us name the founders of our neighbourhoods.

I, yours sincerely, descended from the loins of Ákogwu Àkpélè, founder of Ọ̀bẹ́yà-kékélé, Anyigba. What about you?

Credit to Elder John Jibo

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Former Labour Party vice presidential candidate Datti Baba-Ahmed has delivered a scathing critique of Nigeria's governmental framework following controversial remarks by former Kaduna State Governor Nasir El-Rufai regarding federal government payments to bandits.

Speaking during a recent interview on Channels Television, Baba-Ahmed responded to El-Rufai's assertions about the federal government's alleged policy of paying ransoms to bandits, raising fundamental questions about Nigeria's sovereignty and governance.

"That statement is at the core of Nigeria being—Nigeria having a government. Do we really have a government?" Baba-Ahmed questioned, challenging the very foundations of Nigerian statehood.

The former vice presidential hopeful directed pointed criticism at officials making such claims, stating: "If somebody who sold Nigeria's assets for four years at BPE, served as FCT minister for four years, and served as governor would say that there is a national policy of paying bandits, do we have a government?"

Baba-Ahmed's concerns extended beyond policy disagreements to existential questions about Nigerian citizenship and national identity. "Am I a citizen? Are you a citizen? Does Nigeria exist? Or do a pack of people live in a certain territory with another group of people claiming to misrule them?" he asked during the televised discussion.

The Labour Party figure emphasized the severity of the situation, asking: "Do we have a government? Do we have a nation? What are we doing? Are people understanding the gravity of this statement? Do we even have an office of a national security adviser?"

Elaborating on his understanding of governmental policy formation, Baba-Ahmed explained: "A national policy is an official position of government. An official declaration that this is what we shall be constitutionally doing, what we shall be legally pursuing. That's what we call a national policy. It is made public. It is celebrated. It is broadcast to the whole world."

Disagreement is not animosity!

Acknowledge the artistic prowess of this African boy! He hails from the Igala tribe, Kogi state, Nigeria.

😲😳😲😳

The day Nigeria stood still – Fela’s farewell in glass casket

When Fela Anikulapo Kuti died on August 2, 1997, it wasn’t just the death of a man — it was the passing of a movement. Lagos, and indeed much of Nigeria, went silent. But then, it erupted in song, in drums, in tears, and in dance — a final tribute to the Abami Eda.

Days later, a glass casket was placed in the middle of Tafawa Balewa Square. Inside lay the man who had spoken truth to power, the man who defied military regimes with saxophone in hand and fire in his lyrics. It was a sight like no other.

Thousands flooded the venue. Men and women from all walks of life — fans, fellow musicians, market women, even people who had once criticized him — all came to pay their respects. His body, dressed in vibrant Ankara, lay peaceful, as if still listening to the rhythm of Afrobeat echoing from massive loudspeakers.

Some came in full traditional attire, others with fists raised high, chanting:
“FELA! FELA!! FELA!!!”

There were weeping mothers, young students who’d memorized his lyrics, and elders who had danced to his tunes in the 70s. The air was thick with heat, incense, and emotion.

As the sun set, his glass casket was carried through the streets of Lagos in a procession that lasted hours. Traffic stopped. Time slowed. The people of Kalakuta, and Nigeria at large, had come out for their hero.

He was later buried at his home in Ikeja, but his spirit never left.

Fela didn’t just die.
He transitioned.
And in that moment, a nation remembered how deeply one man could shake the system — and still be loved.

Welcome to the Capital City of the United States of Africa!