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Anthony Obi Ogbo

Biafra’s “May 30 solemnness” is now a shameful blood-spattered rite of remembrance.

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Desperate activists bastardize Biafra’s “May 30, sacredness” into an outrageous blood-spattered rite of remembrance.

On December 7, 1941, the Japanese bombarded Pearl Harbor, killing thousands of U.S. servicemen. America, divided by ideological differences concerning warfare, united behind a declaration of war with Japan. That is the power of communal closeness after a tragedy. Thus, the psychology of unity after tragedy remains a natural phenomenon that instills a feeling of closeness following a tragedy. It breaks down walls of differences within a population and unites them against a common enemy. It activates innate instincts of empathy and comradeship and enables people to find solidarity in times of adversity through collective values of harmony, love, and togetherness. This was how the Igbos in eastern Nigeria lived during and after a three-year Nigerian civil war that ended in 1970.

Since this date, the separationist state, Biafra, has remained a symbol of unity, spiritual motivation, psychological healing, and shared identity among the Igbos and other tribes that make up the failed state. The horrific three-year event, now history, is still fresh in the minds of those who lived through it.

To refresh our memory, on May 30, 1967, Lieutenant Colonel Odumegwu Ojukwu and other non-Igbo representatives established the Republic of Biafra and proclaimed its independence after suffering years of suppression under Nigeria’s military government. War broke out in July 1967, between Nigeria and Biafra, after several diplomatic efforts by Nigeria failed to reunite them. On January 11, 1970, Biafra was defeated. Ojukwu fled to the Ivory Coast and Biafra as a nation surrendered to Nigeria.

Since then, the people that once made up this region have honored this date, May 30, with a passionate and spiritual sense of nationalism. Igbos all over the world celebrate this date to recall memories and honor their fallen heroes. It is a holistic day of tribute to a war that took millions of lives and destroyed towns. The war set the entire social, political, and economic values of the Igbos years back. They organize seminars, community gatherings, and religious services, display the Biafran colors, and share impressive photographs and memorabilia related to the struggle.

Still on May 30 commemoration, the Igbos hold religious services in their language and Biafran ex-servicemen, who often dress in their military camouflage gear, are invited. Families conduct special services for loved ones lost during this war. Igbo communities in other parts of the world hold events and carnival-like parades where participants sing Biafran songs, dance, eat, and drink.

Because most parts of Nigeria see Biafra as a vicious cult of untrusted comrades, the name remains a divine symbol of unanimity and brotherhood among the Igbos.

What is left of Biafra after the war is a covenant of spiritual sensation uniting a population of survivors. Because most parts of Nigeria see Biafra as a vicious cult of untrusted comrades, the name remains a divine symbol of unanimity and brotherhood among the Igbos.

Regrettably, this impeccable Biafran philosophy has been weather-beaten by the insane actions of unscrupulous career activists. Over the years, the covenant that Biafran Igbos uphold has been swapped for unrestrained horror. Events saw street vandalism, hooliganism, and massacre. This year, for instance, before the May 30 commemoration, tension mounted in the five states of the south-eastern zone that once made up Biafra, as the sit-at-home order issued by the proscribed Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB), a self-termination group, took effect.

The leader of this group, Nnamdi Kanu, issued the no-movement directive to commemorate this date. In a social media post, he threatened schools, airports, and markets to close, and ordered people to remain in their homes or be killed. Governor David Umahi of Ebonyi State countered with a statewide broadcast threatening to seize any shop that the owner refused to open. The governor ordered security agents to shoot on sight anyone trying to attack them.

Amid rising insecurity in the southeast region, there were growing concerns regarding the IPOB, and the government’s shoot-on-sight order, and therefore subjecting this celebration to another bloody nightmare. Across the southeast, many public places, including markets, banks, and schools, remained shut. Popular markets were deserted as individuals feared for their lives.

There was a killer-military personnel parading with a shoot-on-sight order against the IPOB. The IPOB vandals were obeying the directive to execute innocent citizens who defied their master’s orders. There were hooligans, who took advantage of the state of uncertainty to carry out fatal robberies. This is what Biafra’s May 30 was reduced to.

Igbos should be concerned about events occurring in their region and that their struggle has been hijacked by dishonest vandals and desperate self-seeking activists taking advantage of the people’s politics. These activists have created an unpleasant culture of self-aggrandizement and dishonest self-actualization advocacy, using conspiracy theories to enchant idle and vulnerable young Igbos into civil disorder.

For instance, on Facebook and YouTube, scores of different “Biafra” social media influencers operate (mainly women living in Europe), spewing false narratives about the Biafran struggle to boost account followers and inspire engagement. They use IPOB’s and Kanu’s inflammatory videos to gain followers and provoke them to cause public unrest.

The worst harm to a people’s struggle is to radicalize the youth with self-destructive conspiracy theories, and these activists have indeed authored this mayhem.

The worst harm to a people’s struggle is to radicalize the youth with self-destructive conspiracy theories, and these activists have indeed authored this mayhem. It is concerning that most Igbos failed to articulate the dire implications of Mr. Kanu’s YouTube sit-down order. For a regular citizen to accord himself the power to order that all airports, schools, and markets be shut down and order no people on the streets, is simply a sign that Mr. Kanu understands nothing about how the system works. A sit-down order instead of a discretionary public holiday is tyrannical and contradicts the ideals of freedom he advocates. It contravenes individual freedom of movement and makes a mockery of his self-actualization ventures. Indeed, if people stayed home for fear of their lives, it is no longer a memorial affair but a sorry hostage situation.

Indeed, if people stayed home for fear of their lives, it is no longer a memorial affair but a sorry hostage situation.

Without a doubt, Biafra’s “May 30 solemnness” has now metamorphosed into an outrageous blood-spattered rite of remembrance. The horrific events of the civil war that once united the Igbos are now perceived as farcical. So, what would the Igbo’s dialogue be with this mob of fraudulent activists with poor listening skills? What would the Igbo’s dialogue be with a gang of unskilled social media influencers who disseminate nonsensical, violent content to sustain paid engagements? How can the Igbos coordinate orientation and education for their self-acclaimed “self-determination” fighters on the legislative processes and key functions of government? How do they approach Mr. Kanu, with his arrogance, and other group leaders of Biafra’s cause who have been destroying each other? And last, how do the Igbos address and redirect thousands of youths who have been brainwashed by these rogue activists?

To move forward as a united entity, progress as a tribe, overcome any challenges, and defeat the so-called enemy, the Igbos must address these questions with effective resolutions.

Professor Anthony Obi Ogbo, Ph.D. is on the Editorial Board of the West African Pilot News. Article is also published in the West African Pilot News

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Anthony Obi Ogbo

When Air Power Becomes a Christmas Performance: The Illusion of Success in Trump’s Nigerian Strike

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Bombs alone do not defeat ideology. Precision without intelligence is noise. —Anthony Obi Ogbo

When President Trump announced his authorized United States air strike against ISIL (ISIS) fighters in northwest Nigeria on Christmas Day, there was an immediate burst of celebration on Nigerian social media. For a country exhausted by years of kidnappings, massacres, and territorial insecurity, the announcement sounded like long-awaited international support. Memes circulated, praise poured in, and some Nigerians hailed Trump as a decisive global sheriff finally willing to act where others hesitated.

But after the initial euphoria settled, a sobering assessment emerged: the strike appeared less like a strategic military intervention and more like a made-for-television spectacle designed to burnish Trump’s international strongman image.

This was not the first time the United States has launched air strikes in Africa or the Sahel under the banner of counterterrorism. From Libya to Somalia, from Syria to Yemen, U.S. “precision strikes” have often been announced with confidence and celebrated with press briefings—only for the targeted groups to regroup, mutate, and, in some cases, expand their reach. In Nigeria itself, years of foreign-backed security assistance have failed to decisively neutralize Boko Haram or its ISIS-affiliated offshoots. Instead, violence has fragmented, spread, and grown more complex.

No verifiable evidence has been produced to confirm high-value ISIS targets were eliminated

The Nigerian strike followed a familiar pattern. U.S. officials framed it as a blow against ISIS-West Africa Province (ISWAP), a group aligned with the global ISIS network. Trump’s language suggested a decisive intervention—an act of muscular diplomacy signaling that America still projects power where it chooses. Yet no verifiable evidence has been produced to confirm high-value ISIS targets were eliminated, leadership structures dismantled, or operational capacity degraded.

What followed was a digital smokescreen. Social media accounts, many anonymous and unverified, began circulating gruesome images of dead bodies and destroyed villages—photos long associated with banditry in Nigeria’s northwest. These images were quickly repurposed to “prove” the success of Trump’s strike. However, this is where the narrative falls apart under scrutiny.

Trump’s mission, as publicly stated, was to target ISIS. Not bandits. Not kidnappers. Not rural criminal gangs. ISIS is a transnational terrorist organization with ideological, financial, and operational links across continents. Bandits, by contrast, are primarily armed criminal groups—motivated by ransom, cattle theft, and territorial control, not global jihad. Conflating the two may be politically convenient, but it is analytically dishonest.

Killing or displacing bandits does not equate to dismantling ISIS. In fact, indiscriminate or poorly targeted air strikes often worsen the situation, pushing criminal groups to radicalize, splinter, or align with extremist factions for protection and legitimacy. This pattern has been observed repeatedly in conflict zones where military force substitutes for intelligence-driven strategy.

A truly successful counterterrorism raid is not measured by dramatic announcements or viral images. It is measured by clear, verifiable outcomes, including the confirmed elimination of high-ranking commanders, disruption of recruitment and financing networks, seizure of weapons caches, and—most importantly—sustained reductions in civilian attacks. None of these benchmarks has been credibly demonstrated in the aftermath of Trump’s Nigerian air strike.

Instead, Nigeria wakes up to the same grim reality: villages remain vulnerable, highways unsafe, and communities terrorized. The strike did not change the security equation. It did not empower Nigerian forces. It did not restore civilian confidence. And it certainly did not neutralize ISIS as a strategic threat.

This air strike offered Nigerians symbolism, not security.

In that sense, the air strike was not merely ineffective—it was a failure dressed in the language of strength, executed for optics, and amplified for political gain. It offered Nigerians symbolism, not security.

If the goal is truly to eliminate ISIS and its affiliates in West Africa, the path is neither theatrical nor unilateral. It requires robust intelligence sharing, sustained training, and real-time coordination with Nigerian and regional forces. It demands targeted arms assistance, logistical support, and investments in surveillance capabilities that allow local militaries to act decisively and lawfully. Above all, it requires a long-term commitment to strengthening state capacity—not fleeting air shows announced from afar.

Bombs alone do not defeat ideology. Precision without intelligence is noise. And celebration without results is self-deception. Trump’s Nigerian air strike may have produced headlines, but history will remember it for what it was: a failed mission masquerading as success.

♦ 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

Trump’s Nigeria Strike: Bombs, Boasts, and the Illusion of Victory

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With Obama, Al-Qaeda was not eliminated by noise; it was suffocated by intelligence. —Anthony Obi Ogbo

It has now been confirmed that the United States acted in collaboration with Nigeria in the recent strike on Islamic State elements in northwest Nigeria. That cooperation deserves recognition. Intelligence-sharing between Washington and Abuja is necessary, overdue, and welcome. Terrorism is transnational; defeating it requires allies, not isolation.

But let us be clear: bombs alone do not defeat terror. And Donald Trump’s strike—trumpeted loudly on social media before facts, casualties, or strategy were disclosed—was less a turning point than a performance.

Trump’s announcement was a classic spectacle: “powerful,” “deadly,” “perfect strikes.” No numbers. No clarity. No accountability. Just noise. It was the same choreography America has deployed in Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria, Libya, Yemen, and Somalia—places where U.S. airpower landed hard, headlines screamed victory, and instability deepened afterward. Violence escalated. Militancy adapted. Civilians paid the price.

History is unkind to airstrikes sold as solutions.

Nigeria knows this better than anyone. Long before Trump’s tweet, the Nigerian military had already conducted multiple operations in the same terror corridor. At least five major strikes and offensives stand out:

  • First, Operation Hadarin Daji, launched to dismantle bandit and terror camps across Zamfara, Katsina, and Sokoto, involving sustained air and ground assaults.
  • Second, Operation Tsaftan Daji, which targeted terrorist hideouts in the Kamuku and Sububu forests—precisely the terrain now in the headlines.
  • Third, repeated Nigerian Air Force precision strikes in the Zurmi–Shinkafi axis, neutralizing commanders and destroying logistics hubs.
  • Fourth, joint operations with Nigerien forces, disrupting cross-border supply routes used by ISIS-linked groups.
  • Fifth, recent coordinated offensives involving intelligence-led raids, special forces insertions, and follow-up ground clearing in the northwest.

These were not symbolic gestures. They were Nigerian-led, Nigerian-funded, Nigerian-executed. And yet, there were no fireworks on social media. No flag-waving hysteria. No intoxicated praise of Nigerian commanders as saviors of civilization.

Why? Because there is a dangerous segment of Nigerians who suffer from what can only be called the American Wonder mentality—a colonial hangover that applauds anything louder simply because it comes from Washington. The same Nigerians who ignore their own soldiers dying in silence suddenly abandon Christmas meals to celebrate Trump’s tweets, typing incoherent praise, mangling grammar, and mistaking spectacle for substance.

It is embarrassing. And it is intellectually lazy.

Terrorism is not defeated by volume or virality. It is defeated by intelligence—quiet, patient, unglamorous work. The United States knows this. Barack Obama understood it. Al-Qaeda was not dismantled through social media theatrics or chest-thumping declarations. It was weakened through intelligence fusion, financial disruption, targeted operations, local partnerships, and relentless pressure on leadership networks—mostly without fanfare.

Obama did not tweet. He acted. So what actually works against groups like ISIS in Nigeria?

First, intelligence supremacy. Human intelligence from local communities, defectors, and infiltrators matters more than bombs. Terror groups survive on secrecy. Break that, and they collapse.

Second, financial and logistical strangulation. Terrorists run on money, fuel, arms, and food. Cut access to smuggling routes, illicit mining, ransom flows, and cross-border trade, and their operational capacity withers.

Third, community stabilization and governance. Terrorism thrives where the state is absent. Roads, schools, policing, and justice systems matter. People who trust the state do not shelter terrorists.

Fourth, regional coordination, not episodic strikes. Nigeria, Niger, Chad, and Burkina Faso must sustain joint pressure, not reactive operations driven by headlines.

Airstrikes can support these strategies—but only as tools, never as substitutes.

Trump’s strike may have killed militants. It may have disrupted camps. That is commendable. But it is not a solution. It is a moment. And moments, without strategy, fade.

If Nigerians truly want terror defeated, they should stop worshiping foreign loudness and start demanding disciplined intelligence, consistent policy, and respect for the men and women already fighting on the ground.

Real victories are quiet. Real security is built, not tweeted.

♦ 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

Texas’ 18th Congressional District Runoff: Amanda Edwards Deserves This Seat

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Her persistence and long-term investment make a clear case: she has earned this opportunity. —Anthony Obi Ogbo

In the special election to fill Texas’s 18th Congressional District, no candidate won a majority on November 4, 2025, leading to a January 31, 2026, runoff between Democratic frontrunners Christian Menefee and Amanda Edwards. Menefee, Harris County Attorney, led the field with roughly 29% of the vote, while former Houston City Council member Edwards finished second with about 26%. Both are vying to represent a district left vacant after the death of U.S. Rep. Sylvester Turner.

The 18th Congressional District is far more than a geographic area. Anchored in Houston’s historic Black communities, it is a political and cultural stronghold shaped by civil rights history, faith institutions, and grassroots activism. Sheila Jackson Lee represented this district for nearly three decades (1995–2024), becoming more than a legislator—she was a constant presence at churches, funerals, protests, and community milestones. For residents, her leadership carried spiritual weight, reflecting stewardship, protection, and a deep, almost pastoral guardianship of the district. Her tenure symbolized continuity, cultural pride, and a profound connection with the people she served.

Houstonians watched as Jackson Lee entered the 2023 Houston mayoral race, attempting to transition from Congress to city leadership. Despite high-profile endorsements, including outgoing Mayor Sylvester Turner and national Democratic figures, she lost the December 9, 2023, runoff to State Senator John Whitmire by a wide margin. Following that defeat, Jackson Lee filed to run for re-election to her U.S. House seat, even as Edwards—who had briefly joined the mayoral race before withdrawing—remained in the congressional primary.

At that time, Jackson Lee’s health was visibly declining, yet voters still supported her, honoring decades of service. She defeated Edwards in the 2024 Democratic primary before announcing her battle with pancreatic cancer. Her passing in July 2024 left the seat vacant.

Edwards, already a candidate, sought to fill the seat, but timing and party rules intervened. Because Jackson Lee died too late for a regular primary, Harris County Democratic Party precinct chairs selected a replacement nominee. Former Houston Mayor Sylvester Turner, a retired but widely respected figure, narrowly edged out Edwards for the nomination, effectively blocking her despite her prior campaigning efforts. Turner won the general election but died in March 2025, triggering a special election in 2025, in which Edwards advanced to a runoff.

The January 31, 2026, runoff will hinge on turnout, coalition-building, and key endorsements. Both candidates led a crowded November field but fell short of a majority, with Menefee narrowly ahead. Endorsements such as State Rep. Jolanda Jones’ support for Edwards could consolidate key Democratic blocs, particularly among Black women and progressive voters. In a heavily Democratic district where voter confusion and turnout patterns have been inconsistent, the candidate who best mobilizes supporters and unites constituencies is likely to prevail.

Amanda Edwards’ case is compelling. Although both candidates share similar values and qualifications, her claim rests on dedication, consistency, and timing that have been repeatedly denied. She pursued this seat with focus and purpose, maintaining a steady commitment to the district and its future. Her path was interrupted by the prolonged political ambitions of Jackson Lee and Turner—figures whose stature reshaped the race but delayed generational transition. Edwards did not step aside; she remained visible, engaged, and prepared. In a moment demanding both continuity and renewal, her persistence and long-term investment make a clear case: she has earned this opportunity.

This race comes down to trust, perseverance, and demonstrated commitment. Amanda Edwards has consistently shown up for the district, even when political circumstances repeatedly delayed her chance. Her dedication reflects readiness, respect for the electorate, and an unwavering commitment to service. Voting for Amanda Edwards is not only justified—it is the right choice for Houston’s 18th Congressional District.

♦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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