The Attack on Uzo Njoku Reveals a Dangerous Trend

Moments before, Uzo Njoku had radiated an impeccable gleefulness. So much so that after she read an insulting tweet, she filmed a satirical dance video in response. Now, as she sat in the capacious news conference room, several cameras pointed in her direction, the words of the interviewer, who wore a black double breasted tuxedo and a colorful tie, hovered over them like a dark angry cloud. “How knowledgeable are you to talk about—uhh—the Yoruba cultural heritage,” he asked. After pausing for a moment, Njoku  dispatched a crisp smile and replied, “I would say I’m not talking about the Yoruba cultural heritage. That’s what this show is not about.” “This show is highlighting Nigerian creatives, and the name Owambe was just something I needed to just capture this celebration happening—going on—in Lagos.” 

Those watching at home could see written at the base of the screen: “UZO NJOKU’S HOMECOMING EXHIBITION HOLDS IN LAGOS.” The TVC News logo hung in the top left corner of the screen. “Are you also aware that—uhmm—the spelling of that owambe is not that appropriate?” the interviewer asked, finally broaching the  dreaded but inevitable topic.

For those who have watched Uzo Njoku face a torrent of, mostly hateful and bigoted, antagonism in the past few weeks over an alleged misspelling of “owambe,” this interview represented a new dimension to the story. The claim that Njoku’s spelling of the word is wrong or “not that appropriate” is entirely spurious. Going back decades, both spellings have been used interchangeably, not just by laypeople but by acclaimed publications. What’s especially troubling is that many of those who faulted Njoku’s spelling have themselves used that same spelling in the past. Take TVC for example. The communiques for the interview with Njoku spelled the word as “owanbe”—with an “n” as opposed to an “m.” A quick search through TVC’s Youtube channel, however, surfaces several video titles where the word is spelled with an “m.” Titles such as “Meet The White Guy Who Loves Nigerian Owambe And Puff-puff,” and “How To Attend And Enjoy An Owambe Party Properly.” Remember that the interviewer had said that the spelling was “inappropriate?” 

The interview seemed to exacerbate what was already a volatile situation. Ostensibly emboldened by a perceived mainstream endorsement of their agenda, armies of virulent tribalists—many of them hiding behind burner accounts—emerged from the far recesses of the internet, bringing with them even more malevolent rhetoric. 

One interaction in particular stands out. Responding to a tweet where Njoku writes, “My exhibition will hold because my hands work.” “Your exhibition will not hold in Lagos,” one account wrote in response. “My exhibition will hold in Lagos,” Njoku doubled down. “Then you will get the Charlie Kirk’s treatment ” another faceless account replies. 

As is usually the case with long-drawn social media dramas, the origin of the vitriol towards Njoku is hard to pinpoint. But in her retelling of how it all started, X user @/lexyy4real “went on multiple comment sections saying I should go back to Anambra, for asking if 2.7M for a one bedroom in VI is a lot. They called me stupid and said I was broke.” It then progressed to misinformation about some of the art pieces for sale on her website. Finally, it metastasized into the virulent attacks against her imminent exhibition—An Owambe Exhibition—due to be held in Lagos this December. 

As the days have progressed, the whole thing has sunk into an absurd register, and with the endless barrage of smear campaigns, malevolent attacks, threats, and spurious petitions, it appears increasingly possible that the exhibition will be impeded or disrupted. A recent tweet by Njoku is streaked with hints of exhaustion: “I was supposed to be doing Art Basel with Google, but I already made all these financial plans for my exhibition in Lagos. Unfortunately, I can’t be in two places at once. So after losing out on a huge opportunity like that, I’ll also lose my show in Lagos?”

Many wonder, in complete befuddlement, how a simple  situation has ballooned to this extent. The furor over the alleged misspelling, which is brought up in many of the petitions against her, is clearly dubious as is the case with the claim that Njoku is producing Adire fabric—she has denounced this. Why then is she being antagonized? One tweet responding to the debacle is especially poignant: “I’ve blocked so many people on this Owanbe/Owanbe debacle. Apart from the fact that it’s totally unnecessary and incredibly stupid, I’m so ashamed of the behaviour of many Yoruba people on this. Omo ale ni gbo gbo yin. Because Yoruba people are very welcoming and accommodating.” 

Njoku’s situation is not an isolated incident but rather the latest in a series of violently tribalistic incidents that have played out since the 2023 elections. This is not to suggest that tribalism started in 2023. We fought a civil war, not over an ideological schism but over tribal differences. Moreover, even in times of relative calm, tribal differences and tensions have quietly simmered in the background. 

In 2023, in the aftermath of Peter Obi’s victory in Lagos, a frightening cocktail of violence, vitriol, and discrimination was unleashed against Igbos. It started with cruel memes, many of which depicted Igbos as blobs of feces, and progressed to real world voter intimidation. There’s a widely circulated video of former NURTW chairman Musiliu “MC Oluomo” Akinsanya heckling at a polling unit: “I repeat am again, any Igbo wey dem born very well, make him come vote here.” Similarly, there were reports that in many polling units Igbos and “Igbo-looking” people were prevented from voting. 

Those actions inexorably wounded the soul of Nigeria. It was especially jarring seeing youth, addled with tribal sentiments, traffic in a flavor of tribalism that seemed from a different era. Until then, it had seemed a foregone conclusion that this generation, having learnt from previous generations, was more progressive, less susceptible to tribal politics. Alas not!

If in 2023 it was taken for granted that after the elections, the political temperature would calm down and the nation—certainly broken—would slowly start finding a path to healing; it’s becoming clear that those projections were overly optimistic. The calculated antagonism against Njoku is merely an incarnation of our fraught political state: redolent of the how, leading up to the civil war, Igbos, as a people, were depicted as “other,” how they were vilified and expelled from the North. An estimated 8000-30,000 civilians were killed and another one million expelled from the North in the 1966 anti-Igbo pogroms which ultimately led to the civil war. While drawing these parallels might feel too tidy, it’s important that we sit with these uncomfortable truths as we rail against this groundswell of hatred that is increasingly permeating society because, as George Santayana put it: “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”