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Anthony Obi Ogbo

Akwete fabric makers must mechanize quickly—the Chinese are coming

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So, how can local Akwete fabric producers get adequate training to replace antiquated manual labor methods with competitive contemporary machines and mechanisms?

The new governor of Anambra State, Chukwuma Charles Soludo, may have set in motion what might be perceived as the second revolution of Akwete textiles. Throughout his campaign, and as recently as today, he has not just preached this philosophy but has also demonstrated it by voluntarily offering himself as this local trade’s brand ambassador. According to the governor, “My Akwete dress is not just a dress; it’s a statement. I want to make a statement with it. You know, in the entire Southeast, this is the only textile product alive, and it’s handmade by the women of Akwete in Abia State.”

Soludo’s proclamation soon aroused other leaders in the Southeast to follow suit and advocate a similar cause―to revitalize and purchase these local textiles. A few days ago, Governor Okezie Ikpeazu of Abia (Akwete’s home state) and other governors attending the People’s Democratic Party (PDP) Governors’ Forum wore Akwete fabrics to their meeting in the Ukwa East local government area.

Governor Ikpeazu has always been a fan of this fabric and has always expressed pride that it comes from his home state. Other political and community leaders and celebrities of Igbo descent have also used this fabric to demonstrate loyalty.

However, the purpose of this commentary is not to assess the people’s benefaction of, or devotion to, this product. By all indications, this product and the makers have now been given another chance to prosper from their handicraft once again. Igbos, it appears, are passionately ready to make this fabric their signature attire. One may recall that Akwete fabric textiles thrived during the nineteenth century and were worn by the women of Akwete (now Abia State). The Igbos then started trading this fabric for goods from international traders and those from other parts of Nigeria.

Online commerce has extensively superseded traditional face-to-face or business-to-business trade engagements

Currently, however, the Akwete production technique is not very different from what it was when it began. The weaving involves a laborious, manual interlacing technique performed on a two-system loom. Weavers sit on a low chair, and they labor for hours to produce a substantial length. Today, however, the global system has completely changed, and the economic environment is entirely different. Online commerce has extensively superseded traditional face-to-face or business-to-business trade engagements.

Remember, Akwete clothmakers are local, traditional fabricators who do not know about branding their talents nor elevating them to a competitive market level. They are, therefore, likely to lose their entire Akwete fabric culture to larger, capital-oriented companies from other places. It’s possible that while wearing this fabric at political events or in loyalty to a homemade product is healthy for promotion and ancestry comradeship, it might bear no economic relevance.

Currently, there have been attempts by a few Nigerian traders and investors to develop a more modernized fabrication system, but that might not be enough to sustain the modern global market structure.   For instance, with China’s advent as a significant player in Africa, trade and investment have grown tremendously. China now competes with the United States and European Union (EU) as one of Africa’s trade, investment, and aid partners. They are all over Africa buying up ideas and exploring products and cultures—and then commercializing them through predatory monopolistic ventures.

Globally, the fabric industry is strong. Unfortunately, African fabric dealers and manufacturers remain vulnerable to more aggressive, well-prepared foreign merchants. For example, Qingdao Phoenix, a Chinese textile industry specializing in African wax printing materials, touts the most advanced equipment and latest technologies in textile production. This company is also the manufacturer of the Hitarget brand, which features what are considered to be the most popular African print designs, styles, and colors. Interestingly, most Dutch designs available today within the African marketplace are low-cost reproductions made in China.

Akwete challenge is beyond a trending “made-in-Abia” excitement

Therefore, the Akwete challenge is beyond a trending “made-in-Abia” excitement. It is now a matter of urgency to facilitate the strategic transition from creating these products by hand to using relevant technologies. This philosophy must go beyond looking at who wears these fabrics or does the photoshoot; training, capital investment, and other appropriate support efforts are necessary to initiate technological innovation and process change.

So, how can local Akwete fabric producers get adequate training to replace antiquated manual labor methods with competitive contemporary machines and mechanisms? How can they embrace relevant technologies to distribute and market this product and eliminate the current, outdated business-to-consumer sales and distribution culture? How sincerely do they want to remain producers, distributors, or perhaps sole custodians of their talent and artistic culture—without losing out to today’s ruthless, capitalistic market environment?

Grab a coffee, and let’s have a conversation. #

♦Publisher of the Guardian News, Professor Anthony Obi Ogbo, Ph.D. is on the Editorial Board of the West African Pilot News. He is the author of the Influence of Leadership (2015)  and the Maxims of Political Leadership (2019). Contact: anthony@guardiannews.us

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Anthony Obi Ogbo

When Dictators Die, Their Victims Don’t Mourn

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“Buhari’s legacy is not a national treasure—it is a cautionary tale of tyranny cloaked in uniform and democracy.” —Anthony Obi Ogbo

In many cultures, including mine, it’s considered immoral to speak ill of the dead. But tradition should never demand silence in the face of truth, especially when that truth is soaked in blood, broken promises, and the battered dignity of a nation. General Muhammadu Buhari, former military dictator and two-term civilian president of Nigeria, has finally departed this world. He died in London, a city he frequented not as a diplomat or global statesman, but as a medical tourist—fleeing the ruins of a healthcare system he helped wreck with decades of authoritarianism, tribalism, and economic blundering.

Muhammadu Buhari emerged from the rotten womb of Nigeria’s corrupt military order — a regime where brute force outweighed intellect, and the rattle of an AK-47 silenced the rule of law. In this twisted hierarchy, competent officers were buried in clerical backrooms while semi-literate loyalists were handed stars, stripes, and unchecked authority. It was a theater of mediocrity, where promotion favored obedience over merit and ignorance was rewarded with rank. Within this structure of absurdity, Buhari thrived — a man with no verifiable high school certificate, yet elevated above the constitution, above accountability, and tragically, above the very people he was meant to serve. He didn’t just symbolize the decay; he was its product and its champion.

Let’s not sugarcoat his legacy. Buhari was no hero. He was a man whose grip on power twice disfigured Nigeria’s soul — first with military boots from 1983 to 1985, then under the guise of democracy from 2015 to 2023. His government jailed journalists, brutalized citizens, crippled the economy, and widened tribal divisions with unapologetic bias. His infamous Decree No. 2 sanctioned indefinite detentions. His so-called “War Against Indiscipline” terrorized the innocent. His economic policies were textbook disasters.

Buhari governed with the cold logic of a tyrant who believed brute force was a substitute for vision — and silence a substitute for accountability. The Southeast, in particular, bore the brunt of his vengeance-laced leadership. His disdain for the Igbo people was barely concealed, a poisonous remnant of civil war bitterness he never let go. In his death, that venom remains unresolved, unrepentant.

Let the record reflect that many of us do not weep. We remember.

Even more damning is the legacy of hypocrisy. After decades in power and access to untold national wealth, Buhari could not trust the hospitals he left for ordinary Nigerians. He died where he lived his truth — in exile from the very system he swore to fix. That is not irony. That is an indictment.

And now, as scripted eulogies pour in — from paid loyalists, political survivors, and the ever-hypocritical elite — let us not be fooled by the hollow rituals of state burials and national mourning. Let the record reflect that many of us do not weep. We remember.

  • We remember the students gunned down.
  • The protesters beaten in the streets.
  • The journalists silenced.
  • The dreams buried beneath military decrees and broken campaign promises.

We remember that Buhari was not simply a failed leader — he was a deliberate one, whose failings were not accidents but strategies.

And so, here lie the cold remains of one of Nigeria’s most divisive and mean-spirited leaders — a man who brutalized the democratic process with the precision of a tyrant and the coldness of a man utterly void of remorse. As Muhammadu Buhari begins his final, silent descent into the earth, one can only imagine him entering eternity still questioning the justice of creation: Why did God make women? Why did He place oil in the Niger Delta and not in Daura? And why, of all things, did He dare to create tribes outside the Fulani?

It is not my job to mourn a dictator. My duty is to chronicle them — how they ruled with iron fists, trampled their people, choked the press, and finally died, not as legends, but as small men stripped of all illusions. Dictators are counterfeit gods, tormenting peaceful nations while their delusions last. But sickness humbles them. Death silences them. And in the end, all their grandstanding collapses like dust in a grave.

As a journalist, I will record Buhari’s death with precision, not reverence. I will report the pomp, the propaganda, and the hollow eulogies that will rain down like cheap perfume on a corpse. I will write the truth, because history must never confuse power with greatness — especially when evil wore both the uniform and the ballot.

Let the living learn. Let the wicked sleep. And let the truth outlive them all.

I will not mourn a man who ruled through fear and died surrounded by foreign doctors while his people die waiting in overcrowded hospital corridors. I will not pretend this is a time for unity or healing. This is a time for reckoning. For too long, Nigeria has recycled tyrants and renamed oppression “leadership.” Buhari’s death should not be a moment of forced reverence but a pause for honest reflection. Let his final chapter be a lesson carved into our collective memory: that power without purpose, and rule without empathy, always ends in disgrace. History should not be kind to tyrants simply because they are no longer breathing. If we are ever to break the chains of corruption and cruelty, we must bury the lies with the bodies — and speak truth, even at the graveside. Let the living learn. Let the wicked sleep. And let the truth outlive them all.

♦Publisher of the Guardian News, Professor Anthony Obi Ogbo, Ph.D. is on the Editorial Board of the West African Pilot News. He is the author of the Influence of Leadership (2015)  and the Maxims of Political Leadership (2019). Contact: anthony@guardiannews.us

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Anthony Obi Ogbo

Dunamis Digital Dilemma: Why Shutting Down Virtual Worship May Alienate a New Generation of Believers

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“Spirituality is no longer confined to physical sanctuaries” —Anthony Obi Ogbo

The demands of the digital and virtual age, especially in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic, are both undeniable and irreversible. The pandemic didn’t merely disrupt norms—it reshaped them. From global commerce to education and religious observance, the shift to digital platforms is now a defining feature of contemporary life. The surge in e-commerce has revolutionized how consumers behave, compelling organizations to reinvent their digital presence through social media, targeted marketing, and immersive experiences like augmented and virtual reality.

Yet, while many institutions have adapted to these realities, some remain entrenched in pre-pandemic mindsets. One recent example is the Dunamis International Gospel Centre in Abuja, Nigeria, under the leadership of Pastor Paul Enenche. The church announced the suspension of its live-streamed services, citing the biblical imperative for believers to gather physically, as referenced in Hebrews 10:25.

While the theological rationale was emphasized, the practical implications—particularly financial—were conspicuously understated. Churches around the world have successfully embraced virtual platforms not just to foster spiritual connection but also to maintain financial stability through online giving systems. In contrast, Dunamis’s move appears to prioritize physical attendance at the expense of accessibility and inclusivity.

In today’s digitally integrated society, suspending virtual worship risks alienating many who have come to rely on these platforms. Individuals with health challenges, mobility issues, or who live far from church facilities depend on livestreams to remain spiritually connected. More importantly, younger generations increasingly seek faith experiences that mirror their digital-first realities—flexible, inclusive, and globally accessible. By disregarding these expectations, churches may unintentionally push away the very audiences they aim to engage.

Pastor Enenche’s decision, while perhaps grounded in spiritual intent, may prove counterproductive in practice. The younger demographic—tech-savvy, mobile, and globally aware—now expects more from institutions of faith. They are turning toward worship centers that treat digital engagement not as an afterthought but as a vital dimension of spiritual life. The hybrid church model—integrating both in-person and online elements—has emerged as a powerful strategy for expanding reach while honoring traditional values. It allows churches to be both rooted and relevant.

The decision to suspend livestreaming church services reflects a deeper tension between tradition and innovation, between preserving ritual and adapting to contemporary realities. Faith institutions today are not just places of worship; they are also cultural anchors navigating an increasingly digital society. Ignoring this evolution risks rendering the church irrelevant to a generation that lives, works, and worships online. Spirituality is no longer confined to physical sanctuaries—it’s present in podcast sermons, Zoom prayer meetings, WhatsApp devotionals, and YouTube gospel concerts.

Virtual engagement is not a dilution of faith; it is an extension of it. It makes the message of hope and redemption accessible across boundaries of geography, ability, and circumstance. The pandemic revealed this, but the future will demand it. Churches that fail to embrace digital tools risk becoming spiritual silos—isolated, inflexible, and out of touch with modern believers.

Leadership in ministry, like leadership in any other sphere, must evolve with the people it seeks to serve. Pastor Enenche and others in similar positions should not view digital transformation as a threat but as an opportunity—an opportunity to reach farther, touch deeper, and uplift more lives. The gospel, after all, is meant for all—and now, more than ever, everywhere.

♦Publisher of the Guardian News, Professor Anthony Obi Ogbo, Ph.D., is on the Editorial Board of the West African Pilot News. He is the author of the Influence of Leadership (2015)  and the Maxims of Political Leadership (2019). Contact: anthony@guardiannews.us

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Anthony Obi Ogbo

The Novice Advantage: Rethinking Graduate Readiness in a Demanding Job Market

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“Employers aren’t just filling vacancies—they’re investing in solutions” —Anthony Obi Ogbo

Long before graduation, I understood that success in the job market required more than just a degree. Throughout college, I committed to internships, apprenticeships, and vacation jobs—some unpaid—solely to build the kind of professional experience that would ease my transition into the workforce. By the time I completed my NYSC at The Nigerian Guardian, I wasn’t just another fresh graduate—I was a candidate with proof of performance. I was retained on merit and even offered two cartoon columns at Guardian Express in a separate contract. That preparation made all the difference.

Today, however, many college graduates enter the job market unequipped for its demands. They speak of rejection, frustration, and a lack of experience—all valid concerns in an economy where employers no longer train novice hires from scratch. In a hyper-competitive, fast-paced, and increasingly skills-based market, the burden of preparation rests squarely on the students themselves.

There was a time when being a “novice” came with room to grow. Employers saw potential and invested in it. Now, entry-level roles often come with mid-level expectations: practical skills, strategic thinking, and an ability to contribute from day one. Employers aren’t just filling vacancies—they’re investing in solutions.

This is why it’s crucial for students to begin preparing early. That means building portfolios, seeking field-relevant internships, volunteering in areas that sharpen communication and leadership, and using every academic project as a springboard for real-world insight. These experiences add depth to a résumé and provide talking points in interviews that distinguish candidates from the crowd.

Equally important is networking. The relationships students build—with mentors, professionals, or peers—often become the very bridges that connect them to employment opportunities.

Ultimately, preparing for employment as a college student isn’t optional—it’s essential. And the sooner students begin, the better their chances of entering the workforce with confidence, clarity, and competence.

♦Publisher of the Guardian News, Professor Anthony Obi Ogbo, Ph.D., is on the Editorial Board of the West African Pilot News. He is the author of the Influence of Leadership (2015)  and the Maxims of Political Leadership (2019). Contact: anthony@guardiannews.us

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