Title-taking: The relevance, the reality

KWENU! Our culture, our future

M. O. Ené

[Culled from African Market News, August 2005]

Human beings might be created equal and all, but they almost always find ways to uneven the scores. All through the ages, the desire to uneven things has created all sorts of societies and ranks and castes and what-have-you and what-have-you-not.

Some segregations are natural. Men and women are different; no doubt about that. The old and the young do not share the same values. True. People from particular places of present habitation share similar interests that might not interest others. These we understand.

But how do we deal with the pervasive elitism of man? From a young age, many human children seek “to belong.” I was in Boys Scout; it was the place to be. Then I was initiated into the Masquerade Society; it was hip to belong. Of course, in America, it could be some gang, who knows… one must belong somewhere, be different!

There was “Boys Company,” in which I sought and became an officer—not just a member; then you seek the big league: army! Then came high school. Bachelors. Oh, fraternities here we come. Cults. Pirates. Palmwine Drinkers. Masters degree, and professional societies beckon. Oh, yes, and the big one: Ph.D.—whatever that means.

And you have become a lord of sorts; a big boy in your area of specialization, assuming you know your onions. Whatever, you are a DOCTOR. That’s an earned title; if you earn it, wear it proudly!

But you want more. You want to be a chief? CHIEF? What is that? Chief of police? Fire chief? Indian Chief? To be chief, you need enough “Indians.” Who are the “Indians” you chief? The firefighters or the police or the foot soldiers are just not there. “I am a Chief”; that’s all that matters?

As if that is not enough, there are clubs… elitist clubs. Take the latest craze with Peoples Club among Nigerians in America. Some people just want to belong “where it is happening.” Question: What is happening? You tell me!

Whatever works should be deployed to help humanity. I am a student of the dynamism of culture, but there should be a method to the madness of change. I am not against making people “chiefs,” but it must follow some rules, and the rituals must make sense and add value to the good of the community. Whatever does not help the community in any way, shape, or form, should be cast away or be reformed to make our community a better place.

There are titles and there are titles. Your friends can give you a fanciful name such as “Giant killer”; it does not make you King David. Titles are conferred and titles are taken. In Igbo communities, traditional titles are taken. You want it, you go for it.

Wanting it is one thing; getting it is another. The Igbo have an interesting saying: “If you know what is required to take the Ozo title, you’d opt to remain as-you-were.” In other words, title-taking in is not for faint-hearted men of limited means. It takes a heavy toll on the resources of the one seeking initiation into the society.

In the days of yore, before the colonists brought European Christianity to Africa, title-taking was a very serious matter. The titles were not conferred on just anyone who had resources. Those who felt that they should be accorded certain privileges in the community went out and proved it to the community.

According to legend, the Igbo had kings, whom they called “Eze,” but they soon saw the effect of power. They realized that power is addictive, an aphrodisiac that drives otherwise sane men mad! In short, they found out years before Christ that absolute power corrupts absolutely.

So they set down the rules: Before you could become a king, you must build choice houses for everyone, marry wives for every grown male, find accomplished husband for every maiden, pay off everyone’s debt, provide for everyone, and feast the community for thirteen moons! Then they would sit down and decide to surrender their freedom to one man!

So, centuries ago, the Igbo abolished monarchy and instituted a rugged republicanism that makes every man king of his castle. Whoever works, eats; no one should be a slave to another. Period. They still respected the hierarchy of age-grades, and elders formed the leadership cadre -- helped by accomplished younger men because “a child who washes his hands properly dines with elders.”

In the last millennium, the Nri introduced theocracy in northeast Igboland. In every community, they established a “college of cardinals,” so to speak — the red-cap chiefs. They formed the Ozo Society. The members were the crème de la crème of the community.

Only very few qualified for the expensive initiation. Those who have the money might not qualify due to questionable background and character flaws; those who have what it takes in personality may not have the resources to sustain the position.

In Chinua Achebe’s “The Madman,” we read about wealthy Nwakaibie who, on the throes of seeking to join the elitist Ozo Society, made the mistake of running after a madman butt-naked! The madman had taken his clothes from the village stream. Instead of seeking a coolheaded way out of the dilemma, he elected to chase the madman into a market that was already in full swing!

Maazi Nwakaibie swallowed hard and took the shame like a man. He screwed up this once, but he was still resource-full. When the wannabe-Ozo finally approached the titled men of his community’s Ozo Society, they told him to go take a shower and try again later! Case closed.

A member of the Ozo Society is a very special person. In those days, the holder of the title is respected and even revered. There are so many rules governing the person’s existence: He no longer eats food cooked by just about anyone; he drinks from a special cup; he is entertained while he eats; he does not engage in arguments; he always speaks the truth or face serious retributions from Ani, the Earth Deity; etc.

But membership has its privileges. An Ozo was never maltreated, no matter where he found himself. He couldn’t be insulted because he never puts himself in a compromising situation. He was above menial jobs. And he could practice polygamy hassle-free.

Ozo and Nze title-holders still exist in many Igbo communities, but the rules of engagement have changed enormously. With the help of Francis Cardinal Arinze, the Catholic Church penetrated the initiation rites and soon began to lay down their own rules.

Today, the rules vary from community to community. Like everything that Christianity touches, the initiation rites have been Christianized, but some traditional elements are still preserved.

In the old days, there are elaborate pre-initiation rites. One of such ceremonies was the ritual cleansing of the would-be Ozo by an Nri emissary known as “Aka Nri.” The ceremony cleanses all mistakes and missteps of the person’s past, and prepares him for the new life of a peaceful person who would no longer tolerate injustice, overlook oppression, or tell lies.

With the Catholic church in the midst, one could imagine that “confession” and “holy communion” would be injected to replace the rites. Nonetheless, the Ozo Society still maintains its mystique in many communities. The reverence now depends more on the comportment of individual Ozo than on the elitist society itself, which is true of every elitist setup.

With the revitalization of Ozo Society, it now behooves its members to bring back cultural sanity from the rapacious realm of polluted policies ravaging our African communities. In the old day, the Ozo or Nze of the community were near-saints. They led by example and always spoke the truth. They protected the weak by speaking up against injustice, and the young ones were never misled into misdeed.

It is a thing of joy that the Ozo Society is being revitalized. It is an institution that must not die, even in its present reformed format. The new Ozo members must restore the dignity of the institution as it was not-so-many years ago. I know: My loving Grandfather, Ozo Agbanyie Madueke n’Umuaga, is a great Ozo.

*Ozo Agbanyie passed peacefully on Thursday, September 1, 20o5