There comes a time in every nation’s story when the people demand clarity. Not cleverness. Not caution. Clarity.
This is my answer to those asking where I stand on the question of Biafra, separation, and the disintegration of Nigeria.
Let me begin here:
I Have Nothing but Love and Honor for the Igbo People
My beloved spiritual father—Professor John Ofoegbu, the most Christ-like man I’ve ever known—was a proud Igbo man from Ngugu, a small village near Owerri. It was in that village that he laid his hands on me in prayer and passed his mantle. And it was there, a few years later, that we buried him.
To me, Owerri is my Nigerian hometown.
My first several trips to Nigeria were through the southeast—Owerri, Port Harcourt, Umuahia, Aba. And I have always felt welcome there. The people I know from there are among the most joyful, upright, resilient, hospitable, and generous people I’ve encountered anywhere in the world.
I have been honored with the name Eze Okechukwunenye, “King whom God has greatly blessed.” And I wear that name with humility.
I’m tribe-blind by nature. I don’t see facial structures, names, character traits or dialects through a tribal lens. I see people. Maybe that’s naïve to some, but I don’t plan to change.
I Know the History. I See the Wound.
I’m not ignorant of the British colonial engineering that drew lines across a land that was never meant to function as one. I’m aware of how Nigeria was built—not for peace, but for profit. The way this country was stitched together, it was designed to fail. And it has failed—at least by human standards.
But failure is not final when God is involved.
Out of ashes, He can raise a remnant. And out of betrayal, He can forge a new brotherhood. Whether Nigeria stays as one or breaks into pieces is not mine to say. God has not shown me. So I will not speak.
But I Will Say This With Full Conviction:
I will not speak about the disintegration of Nigeria. I will speak only about the destruction of the jihad-genocide machine—until that evil is uprooted, exposed, and judged.
There is a cancer in the land: militant terror, state-backed slaughter, ethnic cleansing disguised as “clashes.” And while this demonic machine rolls over villages, slaughters families, burns churches, and fills IDP camps—I will not waste my voice arguing over flags.
Now is not the time for Biafra debates.
Now is not the time for tribal politics.
Now is not the time to chase independence while our neighbors are being buried in mass graves.
This is the hour of one fight: the eradication of the jihadist terror system and the deliverance of Nigeria’s innocent.
If we do not unite to destroy that evil, it will destroy all of us—no matter what tribe we come from, or what border we redraw.
To My Biafran Brothers and Sisters:
I hear your cry. I carry your pain. I will never dismiss your story.
But right now, I urge you—do not divide the army while we’re in the middle of war. Don’t let your legitimate dream be used as a tool of division while the true enemy butchers your kin.
If your heart is set on independence—then fight this terror first, and pursue your flag after the fire is out.
That’s how you build a peaceful future. That’s how you ensure strong neighbors—not enemies at every border. That’s how you show the world you weren’t just angry—you were righteous.
My Final Word:
Justice first.
Truth first.
Life first.
This is my position. And until the Lord tells me otherwise, I will not shift. You may not agree. That’s fine. But at least now, you know exactly where I stand.
May the blood of the righteous not be ignored.
May the wolves be exposed.
And may the remnant rise.
Nigeria may have been built to fail. But if we walk in truth, justice, and unity against evil—Nigeria will rise, and then chart her future.
