Pseudo Kings & Palm-Wine Crowns
Pseudo Kings & Palm-Wine Crowns: Why Igbos Never Had a Word for ‘King’
So we had words for mother, father, brother, sister—and even “Chief Sir the First of Back-of-the-Compound”—but no word for king? I smell something deeper than roasted yam here. Let’s gist.
Who hid the Word for King?
The Igbo language, rich with titles, emotions, and even the correct way to insult someone’s ego with respect, somehow never got around to inventing a word for “king.” Yes, we had nne (mother), nna (father), nwanne (sibling), and even Eze, Nze, and Ozo—but none of these mean “king” in the European sense.
As our people say:
“If a lizard falls from a tall iroko tree and nods its head, let it be proud—even if nobody claps.”
Meaning: Even without kings, we were proud of our system!
1. Igbo Land Was Built on Debate, Not Thrones
Pre-colonial Igbo societies were acephalous—headless by design, not dysfunction. Instead of one king lording over everyone, we had village assemblies, age grades, and councils of elders. Decisions were made by consensus—sometimes loud, sometimes with palm wine, but always collective.
As an Igbo elder might say:
“Egbe bere, ugo bere; nke si ibe ya ebela, nku kwa ya.”
Let the eagle perch and let the hawk perch. If one says the other must not perch, let its wings break.
Meaning: Everyone has a seat at the table—no need for royal nonsense.
2. The British Met Confusion, ‘Dey Wear Wrapper’
When the British arrived and didn’t find kings, they were very confused. As they saw it, every “civilized” people must have a throne, a crown, and one man with his chest out giving orders. But in Igbo land?
They saw:
Villagers debating for 5 hours.
Chiefs with titles but no crowns.
Elders who’d rather roast yams than boss people around.
So what did the colonialists do? They invented Warrant Chiefs—giving strangers authority in communities that didn’t send them.
As we say:
“Onye ajuru anaghi aju onwe ya.”
The rejected does not reject himself.
These warrant chiefs saw the opportunity and ran with it, even though nobody in the village recognized their power.
3. No Word for King? That’s Not an Accident
Let’s be honest—if the Igbos wanted a king, we would have invented a word sharper than ogbono soup. But no. Why? Because the Igbo spirit doesn’t like being ruled, only consulted.
Our ancestors knew:
“O buru na i ji ite ofe gwuo nni, mee ka anyi mata.”
If you’re the one cooking the soup, let us know, so we can act accordingly.
But kings? No be our style.
Even the word “Eze” traditionally referred to a priestly or ritual leader—someone whose power was more spiritual than political. He couldn’t just wake up and start ordering yam contributions from everybody.
4. From Title Holders to Instagram Kings
Fast-forward to today, and you’ll find a flood of self-declared “Kings” and “Igwe X of Y”—many with more Instagram followers than ancestral backing. What used to be a symbol of service has become a fashion show of agbada and beaded crowns.
One might say:
“A na-akwa akwa ka e ji ego achu ndi eze taa.”
People now wear mourning clothes just to chase royalty and money.
Meaning: The king title is now a hustle.
Modern Igbo communities have created royal offices for cultural unity or prestige, but remember that our ancestors didn’t have kings.
5. The Real Power Was in the People
The reason Igbo land thrived without kings was simple:
The people were the government.
Power came from age, wisdom, and contribution to the community.
Leadership was earned, not inherited.
Titles were given after you’ve done the work, not before.
As we say:
“Eze onye agwala m ka m jee rie nni?”
Has anyone’s king told me when to eat?
Meaning: You can wear a crown all you want, I still make my own decisions!
Maybe Our Ancestors Were the Real Philosophers
Let’s give credit where it’s due. The absence of a king in traditional Igbo society wasn’t a flaw—it was a deliberate political innovation. It meant no one man could hoard power. It meant accountability. It meant freedom.
So next time someone tries to flex their royal title, smile and remember:
“Ozo emezi okwu, ekwensu ewere ya gba egwu.” When the titled man misbehaves, even the devil dances in amusement.
Long live the people. Long live the elders. Long live the spirit of community, where every voice matters and no crown is above truth.
(“No Kings” image generated by Craiyon AI image generator)
