The Implications of Babangida’s Revelation: The 1966 Coup Was Not an “Igbo Coup” By Olufunmilola
The Implications of Babangida’s Revelation: The 1966 Coup Was Not an “Igbo Coup” By Olufunmilola

The Implications of Babangida’s Revelation: The 1966 Coup Was Not an “Igbo Coup” By Olufunmilola

The recent revelation by former military president Ibrahim Badamasi Babangida (IBB) that the 1966 coup was not an "Igbo coup" challenges one of Nigeria’s most enduring historical falsehoods. For decades, the narrative that the first military coup was an Igbo-led conspiracy has been used to justify the horrific pogroms, systemic marginalisation, and the devastating Biafran war that followed. However, as Babangida’s words bring this long-standing distortion into question, the implications for Nigeria are profound.

To fully accept this truth would be to acknowledge the Nigerian state's complicity in the persecution and genocide of millions of Igbo men, women, and children. It would mean admitting to the unjust collective punishment meted out to the Igbo people through economic deprivation, political exclusion, and relentless discrimination. The consequences of such an admission are so severe that they will undoubtedly be resisted by those who have long benefited from this falsehood.

Beyond historical accuracy, the psychological weight of this realisation is equally significant. For many Igbos, the burden of marginalisation has been a daily reality—economic disenfranchisement, political sidelining, and cultural erasure have been standard practice. If this truth is openly acknowledged, it could reignite long-suppressed feelings of rage and demands for justice, possibly even retribution. Given the continued persecution faced by the Igbo people in various aspects of Nigerian life, this fear is not unfounded.

This also explains the deeply ingrained resistance to the idea of an Igbo presidency. The aversion to Igbo leadership is not merely political but psychological—rooted in guilt and the fear of retribution. The ruling class, alongside those who have inherited this paranoia, are terrified of what a restoration of Igbo power might mean for the existing order. For decades, they have ensured that any possibility of Igbo leadership is thwarted, not necessarily because of incompetence or lack of qualification, but because of an unresolved historical guilt that haunts the Nigerian establishment.

The systematic plundering of the Eastern Region and the dispossession of the Igbo people have created an unspoken national anxiety. The fear that the Igbos might one day demand restitution fuels a cycle of exclusion and suspicion, perpetuating a cycle of oppression.

However, the truth remains immutable. No amount of propaganda or historical revisionism can change the facts. The 1966 coup was not an Igbo coup, and the continued persecution of the Igbo people has no justification beyond fear and prejudice. Until Nigeria reckons with its past honestly, it cannot truly move forward. The ghosts of injustice will continue to linger, and the divisions that plague the nation will persist.

The question remains: Will Nigeria ever find the courage to confront its past and build a truly inclusive future? Or will it continue to live in denial, shackled by its own self-inflicted fears?