BY ESE AMADASUN
In recent weeks, a bold yet unsettling drama has played out in Edo State. A group of Enigie from Igbanke, Edo South Senatorial District, stand accused of not only rejecting the revered authority of the Oba of Benin but also of attempting to reinvent themselves as “Eze” in what appears to be a calculated manoeuvre to align with neighbouring Delta State. His Royal Majesty, Oba Ewuare II, has condemned this as a brazen act of rebellion and a deliberate attempt to destabilise the centuries-old Benin traditional institution. Yet in a twist of hope, some leaders in the community quickly denounced the rebellious move, seeking to steer their people back towards the enduring legacy of the Benin Kingdom. The Oba’s piercing phrase, “Enigie today, Eze tomorrow,” encapsulates the sense of betrayal at play, exposing how readily some are willing to discard the very traditions that gave them identity, status, and authority, in pursuit of narrow self-interest and fleeting political advantage.
In March, the Benin Traditional Council (BTC) took a decisive step, suspending 71 Enigie for what it described as anti-palace and rebellious activities against the Oba and the institution he embodies. Within days, the Edo State Government ratified this suspension, underscoring the gravity of the crisis.
To many observers, these developments resemble a “cultural coup d’état,” allegedly aimed at fragmenting the Benin Kingdom. The rebellion was reportedly emboldened by the backing of the immediate past administration, which created an atmosphere where disrespect for the throne could thrive. While some of the suspended Enigie have humbly sought the Oba’s forgiveness, others continue to defy palace authority, contesting the legitimacy of their suspension under existing laws. Meanwhile, a faction among the Igbanke Enigie is attempting to switch allegiance to foreign crowns, as if traditions were commodities to be traded at convenience.
This crisis invites a crucial question: how can individuals who once took oaths of loyalty as Enigie, sworn subordinates of the Oba now so casually renounce their heritage and proclaim themselves Eze? When their ambitions were aligned with the palace, they proudly upheld Benin customs; but faced with suspension for insubordination, they now grasp at a new identity.
This is not merely an identity crisis; it is a direct assault on a living cultural legacy.
The Benin Kingdom is not simply a collection of palaces and crowns. It is one of Africa’s oldest and most sophisticated civilisations, with a monarchy that predates colonial incursions and has withstood centuries of external and internal threats. The palace remains a sacred institution uniting the Edo people through shared memory, cultural pride, and moral authority.
Those who now seek to detach themselves from this heritage after years of benefiting from its prestige should be recognised as opportunists exploiting identity confusion.
Oba Ewuare II’s recent reminders of historic attempts to undermine the monarchy lend powerful context: from the construction of a high-rise building obstructing the palace’s view during Oba Akenzua II’s reign, a calculated show of disrespect to palace-favoured individuals turning against the institution once it no longer served their ambitions. These are not isolated incidents but part of a recurring pattern of power-seeking elites biting the very hand that elevated them.
It is therefore unsurprising that the Oba sees the Igbanke rebellion as a continuation of this long history of palace sabotage.
Yet, amid this turmoil, the Oba’s resolve remains unshaken. His emphatic assertion that the palace’s authority shall not be diminished. “By the grace of God and our ancestors” is no empty declaration. It is a statement of enduring cultural continuity and resistance to erosion.
In a time when many African institutions face pressures from political interference and the homogenising forces of globalisation, the Benin monarchy endures as a symbol of authenticity and historical depth. But its survival demands collective vigilance.
Journalists, policymakers, community leaders, and citizens must resist the temptations of ethnic manipulation and opportunistic politicking, standing firm in defence of our shared heritage. The spectacle of Enigie transforming into Eze overnight is not just a local squabble; it is a litmus test of our society’s commitment to tradition, legitimacy, and truth.
Moreover, the Oba’s call for support towards Governor Monday Okpebholo is both timely and necessary. The Oba’s disclosure of withheld allocations to the Benin Traditional Council under the previous administration shows how easily state resources can be wielded to undermine traditional institutions. A governor who respects tradition and prioritises the welfare of the people should be recognised and encouraged.
In conclusion, “Enigie today, Eze tomorrow” stands as more than a stinging rebuke; it is a cautionary message. A society that allows its cherished traditions to be rewritten by the whims of ambition risks not only its past, but also its moral bearings. The Benin throne has spoken. It is now up to every Edo son and daughter, and all who cherish identity, history, and honour, to rally in defence of our collective truth.
