Biafra: We Remember and We Pray #Ozoemena

(By Emmanuel Iduma) – ‘Gone Like a Meteor’: Epitaph for the Lost Youth of the Biafran War

In 1967, Nigeria had been an independent country for just seven years. The declaration of secession that year by an Igbo majority in the southeastern region of Nigeria, and the war that followed when the federal government decided to keep the country as one, was already the culmination of a bloody sequence of events. By May 1967, two coup d’états had taken place, and the Igbos of northern Nigeria had been killed in the tens of thousands. 

The Biafran War, otherwise known as the Nigerian Civil War, lasted from July 6, 1967, until January 15, 1970. The men who led each side—Yakubu Gowon on the federal side and Chukwuemeka Ojukwu of Biafra—were in their mid-thirties. Boys, some barely teenagers, volunteered to fight for the breakaway Republic of Biafra. Many of the civilian casualties were children: in September 1968, the International Committee of the Red Cross estimated that almost ten thousand people died daily from starvation caused by Nigeria’s blockade of Biafra. An entire generation was wrenched from the future.

Of Prophet Odumeje, Pastors, and Sundry MOs

(By Obinna Aligwekwe) – Beyond Odumeje Comics and Theatrics.

First off, let me say I will never be more a fan of Odumeje than I would Adeboye, Oyedepo or Oyakhilome. 

Perhaps I might even be tempted to place him amongst men like Chris Okafor, TB Joshua and Apostle Suleiman who in my personal opinion rank lower in credibility than the first three above.
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I do not subscribe to the opinion that casts out Odumeje and places him on a pedestal of falsehood from the others.

Odumeje is not more false than Oyedepo who once publicly slapped a lady in church during deliverance session.

Why was Oyedepo banned from entering the United Kingdom?

Odumeje is not more false than TB Joshua, who has delivered numerous false prophecies, and once claimed the Holy Spirit misled him.

Odumeje is not more false than Adeboye, who declared that corona virus had nothing to do with members of his church. 

Many still doubt that story of driving a car without fuel, but you who believe, wants to question another’s belief in Odumeje?

Odumeje is no more false than Chris Okafor who was involved in a recent scandal where a woman with a fractured arm was passed from church to church in healing scams.

"I Represent Earth": Religion in Social Media Age

(By Immanuel James Ibe-Anyanwu) - Angela Nwosu: Interview with an Ogbanje

In 2016, there was that trending video of a girl with scant hair and no makeup talking sex in vulgar Igbo. While some cheered her bravado, others were deeply offended, yet she released some more. Four years later, the lady, Angela Nwosu, has found some acceptance, pulling perhaps the largest following by any Nigerian using a private account on Facebook: 203,000. How did a random girl with a smartphone become a famous brand inspiring traditional worship in a digital generation?

Was the sex talk a way to get people to listen? I ask her, opening an interview this past Sunday.

“No. I just love talking about sex. I can’t have an adult conversation without talking sex. I had no friends and I needed to talk. When I started, there were so many trolls reporting me, so Facebook banned me.” 

Four times she created new accounts but all were banned, the last time permanently, she tells Nigeria Abroad. Angela moved to YouTube, where she met the same fate.

“I had to hire an IT guy to formally write letters and beg Facebook that I’d be of good behavior.”

Her spiritual nature has always been there since she was a child, Angela says, only she had to “use her available platform to provide solutions to people’s problems.” Today on social media, she sells spiritual items—amulets for luck, scrubs for spiritual cleansing, etc. She also provides free spiritual counseling on how people can use nature to better themselves.

Odumeje Vs Pericoma: Surviving the Gods

(By Mitterand Okorie) - As the Pericomas unleash terror, has night come for Odumeje?

Chukwuemeka Ohanemere a.k.a Odumeje is an internet sensation. Yellow to the soles of his feet and lanky like an okro plant, the self-acclaimed Liquid Metal has given Nigerians so much to talk about in the last few days. Recently also he trended on Twitter and today, dominates discussions on Facebook since the Pericomas came to town. Individuals or corporations pay influencers to trend on Twitter; Pastor Odumeje a.k.a Ikuku a na-afu anya (the visible wind), has remained an organically trending topic on social media Nigeriana. In short, some now called themselves Indaboskians, culled from the pastor’s favourite war chant – “I am Indaboski Bahose”. Apparently, Marlians (fans of the singer Naira Marley) have not only met their match; they have been overtaken by a more exuberant bunch. 

Odumeje is a popular prosperity pastor who, unlike most of his colleagues, found an unconventional route to fame. He is remembered for his antics more than for his preaching. He throws his spiritual patients around like a wrestler in a WWE bout. I once saw a video of him taking a crippled man’s crutches and proceeding to hit the man’s legs with the iron frame in an attempt to heal him. Spirits, they say, work in mysterious ways. 

While pastors of conventional Pentecostal churches call for tithes, Odumeje enjoys people spraying money in his church, sometimes over his head while he jumps around with the flexibility of an excited ninja.

Of Okija Shrine, Unforgiving Deity, & Tech-Savvy Ezemmuo

(By Mark-Anthony Osuchukwu) - Inside Okija shrine with the Goddess who never forgives

In the middle of a forest lies the dreaded Okija shrine, home to Ogwugwu-Mmiri, one of the most powerful deities in Igboland. Leading to the shrine is a dirt road plied by men on a date with spirits, surrounded by vegetation and fear. The shrine is a half-hour journey on okada from Ihembosi, a busy community in Anambra State. Save for the sputtering of the bike and the chirping of birds, the entire world is silent. A two-man journalism crew from Nigeria Abroad, we are on a mission to poke into the shrine’s historical mystery, and separate fact from fiction. 

The okada whines to a halt by a lonely structure where a man in red cap is sitting on a low stool. We pay the rider and approach the good man with pleasantries.

“Clear your throats before you come any further,” he commands. 

 A young man in his 40’s, his charge, a ritual for all who visit the shrine, is larger-than-life, instilling fear and obedience. We clear our throats, unlocking his hospitality.

“I am Ezemmuo Meekaodimma”—Chief priest bent on doing good. “What did you bring for the Alusi?

It is not our first visit. The day before we had come to book an appointment for this interview, and were told of what items to bring along: kolanuts, edo, native male chalk, native female chalk, and dry gin. We present the items.

“Whatever you give to the Gods can never be taken back,” Ezemmuo states, as if reading our rights.