The history of Nigeria is marked by resilience, cultural richness, and political struggles, but it is also scarred by one of the darkest chapters in Africa’s postcolonial era — the genocide against the Igbo people during and after the Nigerian Civil War (1967–1970). While the world often remembers genocides in Rwanda, Bosnia, and Darfur, the atrocities committed against the Igbo in southeastern Nigeria remain largely overlooked, leaving survivors and descendants burdened with unhealed wounds and unanswered questions.
Roots of the Conflict
Following Nigeria’s independence in 1960, the new nation faced immense challenges of ethnic diversity, economic imbalance, and political instability. The Igbo people, concentrated in the southeastern region, were among the most educated and economically active groups, quickly rising to prominence in politics, business, and public service. This success, however, also fueled resentment from other ethnic groups.
In 1966, a coup led by mainly Igbo officers, and a brutal counter-coup that followed, set the stage for widespread ethnic violence. From May to September 1966, organized massacres of Igbo civilians took place in northern and western Nigeria. Thousands of men, women, and children were slaughtered in the streets, churches, and marketplaces. Survivors fled en masse to their ancestral homeland in the southeast.
The Biafran Secession and Civil War
Faced with the mass killings and systemic discrimination, the southeastern region, under the leadership of Colonel Odumegwu Ojukwu, declared independence as the Republic of Biafra in May 1967. This act ignited a devastating civil war.
The Nigerian government, determined to preserve territorial unity, launched a full-scale military assault on Biafra. While the battlefield claimed lives, it was the blockade of Biafra that unleashed unimaginable suffering. The federal government cut off food and medical supplies, using starvation as a weapon of war.
The Toll of Starvation
The images of emaciated Biafran children, their ribs protruding and eyes sunken, became one of the earliest global symbols of humanitarian crisis. Aid workers and journalists documented the catastrophic famine, yet international response remained inadequate.
By the war’s end in January 1970, an estimated two to three million Igbo civilians — primarily children — had died from starvation, disease, and massacres. Many historians and human rights scholars regard this as an act of genocide, given the deliberate policies of starvation and ethnic targeting.
Denial and Silence
Unlike other recognized genocides, the Nigerian state has never formally acknowledged the atrocities against the Igbo as genocide. Instead, the dominant narrative portrays the civil war as a conflict of national unity, overshadowing the systematic extermination policies that defined the suffering of Biafrans.
This silence has fostered generational trauma. Survivors rarely find justice, and the Igbo people continue to grapple with marginalization, political exclusion, and the painful legacy of being a people whose suffering was minimized or erased from history.
Global Lessons and Ongoing Struggles
The genocide against the Igbo people underscores the dangers of ethnic hatred, political rivalry, and weaponized hunger. It also highlights how international politics can silence atrocities — as powerful allies backed Nigeria’s federal government, prioritizing oil interests over human lives.
Today, echoes of that tragedy resurface in Nigeria’s ongoing ethnic tensions, security crises, and renewed calls for secession. For many Igbo, the memory of Biafra remains both a source of identity and a reminder of their people’s vulnerability.
Remembering Biafra
To remember Biafra is not to reopen old wounds, but to demand recognition, healing, and justice. Acknowledging the genocide against the Igbo people is essential for national reconciliation and for ensuring that such atrocities never happen again — in Nigeria or anywhere else.
As the world commits to “Never Again” when recalling genocides, the Igbo tragedy must be part of that global memory. Silence only deepens the wound, while remembrance paves the way for justice, dignity, and healing.