Iriji Mbaise Is Losing Its Soul

By Dr jalarth Uche Opara

There was a time when Iriji Mbaise was more than a festival. It was a brand.

It was the ceremony that gave Mbaise prominence and announced our identity to the world. We looked forward to it with pride because it embodied our cultural soul. It was the one event that distinguished us, celebrating our heritage, values, and uniqueness without compromise.

Unity was its foundation. Love was its fragrance. The preservation of our customs and heritage was its essence. In those days, every yam harvested in Mbaise seemed willing to surrender itself to one knife—the knife of love and unity—that sliced through them in celebration of the New Yam Festival.

Our forefathers gathered at one agreed place where the living and the ancestors met in symbolic fellowship. There were no factions, no litigation, no struggle for supremacy, no needless politics. Everything was done in the spirit of love, harmony, and communal identity.

Today, however, Iriji Mbaise is bleeding.

The poison of litigation has robbed it of its appeal. The pursuit of money has stripped it of its elegance and prestige. The battle for control has steadily diminished its influence and fractured the unity that once defined it.

How can we celebrate a New Yam Festival when the yam itself is bleeding? How can we rejoice when the cultural soul of the festival has been wounded, trivialized, and reduced to a caricature of Nigerian politics—where division, greed, corruption, and personal interests often triumph over the common good?

How did we arrive at this point? How did Mbaise come to host two parallel Iriji festivals on the same day? How did a sacred cultural celebration become so factionalized that rival groups now hold separate ceremonies, almost like political parties conducting parallel primaries?

Iriji Mbaise, once the pride of our people, is gradually becoming more political than cultural. It is increasingly resembling a gathering of influential personalities advancing competing interests rather than a sacred celebration of our shared heritage.

As Iriji bleeds, it cries for the return of its stolen soul. And one cannot help but imagine our ancestors looking upon the spectacle with sorrow, covering their faces in shame—not because the festival still exists, but because the spirit that once gave it life is slowly slipping away.

The greatest threat to Iriji Mbaise is not the existence of different opinions. It is the loss of the unity, dignity, and cultural purpose that made it the pride of Mbaise. If that soul is not restored, we may continue to celebrate the festival, but we would have lost the very reason it was created.

Where are the voices of our traditional rulers? What muffled them? What has swallowed them? Why are they all at home and goats are giving birth tied to trees?

Everything is politics. There are boundaries between politics and the sacredness of tradition.

Our ancestors are angry, if this rubbish continues unresolved, the wrath may be unimaginable.

Jarlath Uche Opara
jarlathuche@gmail.com