Showing posts with label The Conversation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Conversation. Show all posts

Saturday, November 13, 2021

Lessons From Igbo Trans-Generational Entrepreneurship: Why It Matters

BY PROFESSOR NNAMDI MADUCHIE

THE CONVERSATION

 

Computer village, Lagos, is one of those places where Igbo entrepreneurship is practiced and passed on to the next generation. Image: Pius Utomi Ekpei/AFP via Getty


The Igbos are one of Nigeria’s three main ethnic groups in a country of about 200 million. Based in Southeast Nigeria, this industrious and acephalous group has attracted a lot of attention from research in recent years. Most of it has focused on the success of Igbos in artisanal enterprise and informal training. Now their apprenticeship system has become a talking point.

Most of the research on the Igbos’ success in business has been through the traditional cultural lenses of anthropology and sociology. My co-authors and I have sought to move beyond these cultural frames to a business and management lens – notably entrepreneurship.

I have been studying Igbo entrepreneurship since 2008. In my earlier article, my co-authors and I drew the illustrative case of Nnewi culture. This is an Igbo enclave in Southeastern Nigeria renowned for its high incidence of productive entrepreneurship. It is noted for its automates and manufacturing businesses, which at the time of our research had only received limited research attention.

Almost a decade later, I co-authored a paper which highlighted that the “informal apprenticeship system provides entrepreneurial learning that prepares the younger generation to take to business as a way of life.”

The role of family affinity and networks in business has been observed across geographies. The use of family networks this way makes significant contributions to the economic growth of nations.

To understand better the effect of these family networks, my co-authors and I interviewed 25 Igbo entrepreneurs to find out what constituted the catalyst for the business model.
About the study

Our research identifies the key variables associated with trans-generational business legacies and succession. The Igbos, like most other indigenous groups, believe in maintaining a legacy of not just their language but other values, customs and norms. In particular, for the Igbos, business continuity seems paramount as a means to ensuring that there are trans-generational business legacies.

The study also highlighted salient Igbo cultural and community nuances. These include the role of Di-okpara (first son), Umunna (sons of the land), Ikwu (members of a kindred) and Umuada (daughters of the land). These insights inform a contribution to the discourse of ethnic or indigenous entrepreneurship, which has both theoretical and policy implications.

We then developed four themes that serve as the points from which trans-generational entrepreneurship is nurtured among the Igbo. These are:

“Nwaboi” (informal volunteering);

the role of first son (di-okpara), which is closely linked to “afamu-efuna”;

the independent and individualist, but yet communal, that is, “acephalous” nature of the Igbos (“Igbo enwe Eze” – Igbos have no king); and

the entrepreneurship collaborative and cultural initiative – the role of kindred (Umunna).

First, the Nwaboi apprenticeship system assumes two forms, “Imu-Oru Aka” (learning a craft or skill) and “Imu-Ahia” (learning to trade) across all kinds of trading to various crafts and skills.

Second, Igbo businesses survive across generations through the identification and the nurturing of sons who can take over the business. If the first son shows no interest, any other male in the family with potential is trained to take over the business. Indeed, the notion of “Di-okpara” highlights the significance of a male child (normally the first son) to the legacy of the family and any succession plans. It is also linked to the notion “afamu-efuna”, which guarantees the lineage among the Igbos.

Third, there is the moderating role of the Umunna (sons of the land), Umuada (daughters of the land) and Ikwu (members of a kindred). These are the arbiters of family or societal disputes. The decisions of the Umunna are binding on members of the clan. In addition, where family business conflict arises, the elders of the kindred step in to settle the dispute. By resolving disputes internally, the mechanisms help avoid lengthy court processes which are often disruptive to the running of businesses. This makes the role of Umunna very potent.

Just like Umunna, there is also the “Umuada” (Umu means people) of first daughters (Ada). This is an association of influential indigenous women. The group goes beyond the first daughters whose ancestry is traced to a village or town. The Umuada represents the interests of women and serves as a bridge between women and men.

In some cases, the Umuada also serve as checks on the abuse of power by the council of elders. Umuada can, as result of these powers, intercede in any disputes related to business practices. Besides, women sometimes also engage in these business activities.

Generally speaking, arbiters such as Umunna and Umuada have tended to help shape new norms and beliefs. On the other hand, other Igbo structures help facilitate the creation of more effective business processes. These include better financial frameworks. An example is Afam efuna, an equitable “nwaboi” system overseen to some extent by custodians such as Ikwu, Umunna and Umuada. These Igbo structures therefore enable the development of new markets and cultural innovation. They also enable Igbos to maintain trans-generational business legacies and inter-generational succession.

The Igbo culture of entrepreneurship can be traced back to the slave trade in the 15th century. By the 1800s about 320,000 Igbos had been sold to slave traders both within and outside of their communities at Bonny, 50,000 at Calabar and Elem Kalabari.

This process continued until the abolition of slave trade in the 1900s. Unlike most African communities, slaves from the Igbo ethnic group were exposed to entrepreneurship by their owners, including members of their own tribe who traded commodities like spices, sugar, tobacco, cotton for export to the Americas, Europe and Asia. Long before Europeans arrived, Igbos enslaved other Igbos as punishment for crimes, for the payment of debts, and as prisoners of war. The practice differed from slavery in the Americas.

Igbos built on this, venturing into various forms of entrepreneurship during the pre-colonial era. Colonisation found the Igbos already leading craftsmen, traders, merchants and cottage industrialists. They have maintained this culture of entrepreneurship through the structures and mechanisms described above.

Policy implications

The findings from Igbo ethnic entrepreneurship studies cannot necessarily be generalised for all other ethnicities. They also provide realistic and current examples of how African entrepreneurship is embedded in unique cultural phenomena. However, each of the elements of the Igbo entrepreneurial spirit and culture raises different issues, in particular how societies can sustain entrepreneurship across generations.

The lessons from the success of Igbo trans-generational entrepreneurship can certainly be adapted to other socio-cultural settings. American journalist and author Robert Neuwirth hinted at this while talking about the Igbo apprenticeship system.

Taking a cue from the title of the book by the celebrated Chinua Achebe, one of the greatest poets of “Igbo” ancestry, scholars cannot let “Things Fall Apart” in this quest to understand and act upon the dynamics and potential of ethnic groups and their contribution to the global economy.

The Igbo entrepreneurship model has demonstrated, time and again, how to navigate both ethnic and gender discrimination in mainstream society. This has obvious managerial, research and policy implications.


Professor Nnamdi Madichie is affiliated with the Unizik Business School, Awka, Nigeria, Coal City University, Enugu, Nigeria and the Bloomsbury Institute London. His is a Fellow of the Chartered Institute of Marketing, Fellow of the Chartered Management Institute, and Senior Fellow of the Higher Education Academy.

Sunday, March 22, 2020

CINEMA: Why Nigerians Living Abroad Love To Watch Nollywood Movies

A man passes by Nigerian movie billboards at a cinema in Lagos. Image: Cristina Aldehuela/AFP/Getty 



The Nollywood industry – which came to life in the early 1990s – is often seen as a natural heir to the Nigerian TV series which had already produced roughly 14,000 feature films in the previous decade. These video-films of the early years have now become full feature films, and an integral part of popular life in Nigeria. Local audiences appreciate these homegrown productions relating to daily life in the country.

The films – about 1,000 are produced a year – offer a mix of urban scenes and village encounters. They appeal to both young people and to families, reaching out to local audiences in several Nigerian languages. The films are mainly produced in the big cities in the south of the country such as Lagos, Onitsha, Enugu, Aba, Ibadan or Calabar, though they are usually set in Lagos or Abuja and involve crews and actors from various ethnic backgrounds.

While Yoruba and Hausa filmmakers have opted for productions foregrounding their respective languages, statistics show that the number of films in Igbo, the language most commonly spoken in Eastern Nigeria, has been infinitesimal. Most of the films emanating from Igboland are in Nigerian English, a choice which has allowed them to reach out to wider audiences in other parts of the country and abroad. This has made them an instant hit and projected Nollywood on the international scene.

The number of films produced in other Nigerian languages such as Esan, Edo (Bini), Urhobo, Ijo, Hausa and Ogba has equally gained momentum.

Over less than three decades, Nollywood has gained an international reputation and inspired new film industries across Africa. The industry is widely considered as a showcase of the country. Interestingly, although a growing number of these films are now set in locations abroad, most remain firmly grounded in Nigerian cultures.

Over the years, the African public has come to discover and appreciate Nollywood. Nevertheless, outside Nigeria, its main public remains the Nigerian diaspora. Research carried out in London and Paris nine years ago sought out the opinions of Nigerians living abroad about the films.

The research showed that respondents spend a significant portion of their leisure time together with other Nigerians or other Africans, viewing Nigerian videofilms. They overwhelmingly preferred them to foreign films. These observations have since been enriched by follow-up interviews, confirming that these results remain relevant.

Scripting and scene-setting

By and large, protagonists in Nollywood films adhere to ancestral beliefs and carry on with most rural traditions.

The ancestral village that nurtured these beliefs never disappears entirely. It is nearly always the scene of at least a few family encounters. The acknowledgements that follow the film give precious few details about the places used, such as community centres, hospitals or churches. The village is usually signalled by narrow paths, mud houses, grassy compounds and farmlands, people in wrappers, bare-chested men or chiefs in traditional attire and oja music.

The set is far less important than the content; it is just there to provide a background to the protagonists’ actions and to reinforce the message that the individuals’ behaviour is partly determined by their family background.

Both the ‘old’ Nollywood and its ‘new’ version that has developed within the past 20 years have highlighted the premium value still given to the concept of extended family, the bedrock on which most scenarios are constructed. Yet storylines point to the flaws of the traditional family system and reflect on the malaise experienced by a country in the throes of rapid changes, leaving traditions behind and often incapable of replacing them with new values.

Subjects woven into the plots include polygamy turned sour, marital infidelity and couples drifting apart, obsession with male heirs and problems associated with childlessness, and strained relationships with in-laws and with rural folks.

Films also denounce other social ills. These include the traditional maltreatment of widows, political corruption and some of the troubles associated with urban life.

All these topics appeal to a broad African audience and have helped to lead to African co-productions.

The crucial role of Nollywood in Diaspora
Nearly half of those interviewed in my research said they preferred watching Nigerian films in English. A quarter preferred Yoruba while 16% preferred Igbo. Even so, over 58% of those interviewed considered that Nigerian languages played a role in the pleasure they derived from viewing films. They clearly perceived those languages as part of their cultural heritage and identity, a legacy to be cherished and protected.

Respondents equally considered their Nigerian language as a vital tool to communicate with older relatives in Nigeria and keep in touch with their roots. One of them says it beautifully:

It makes me feel more at home once I speak my language.
Unsurprisingly, language featured prominently in the list of what attracts viewers to Nollywood, second (50%) after the storyline (71.7%). Factors such as landscape and clothes, body language, houses and dances trailed behind.

Viewing Nigerian movies can therefore be seen and experienced as a trip down memory lane, a virtual journey back home and group therapy. A number of respondents also insisted on the educational value of the films, saying that “they have a moral tale to tell”.

Looking forward

Given the growing number of Nigerians migrating abroad in the current political climate, and given the proven benefits gained from regular watching as proven by my research and interviews, one cannot but encourage the current trend, which has seen a number of London and Paris cinema houses screening films belonging to the new Nollywood co-productions. Their recorded success will no doubt help Nigerians adjust to their diasporic situation while enriching the cultural scene of host countries.


SOURCE: THE CONVERSATION

Thursday, September 19, 2019

In Nigeria, Dreadlocks Are Entangled With Beliefs About Danger

Flavour, a popular Nigerian musician, can wear his dreadlocks in peace because they are seen as a temporary fashion statement. Elizabeth Farida/Wikimedia Commons


BY AUGUSTINE AGWUELE

A grown man wearing his hair in dreadlocks is bound to attract attention in Nigeria. And it’s not always positive attention. Many Nigerians, regardless of their education and status, view dreadlocked men as dangerous. The hairstyle sometimes even gets a violent reaction.

This bias is deeply rooted in traditional religious beliefs and myths, especially those of the Yoruba and Igbo people.

My book on the symbolism of dreadlocks in Yorubaland tries to explain what knotted hair means to Yoruba people, and where these ideas come from. Numbering around 40 million, Yoruba people predominantly occupy southwestern Nigeria. In West Africa, they are found in Benin Republic, Ghana, Togo, Sierra Leone, and Liberia. In the diaspora, they are significantly present in the US, Brazil, Cuba, Haiti and the Caribbean.

An affront to society’s orderliness

A popular phrase used by Yoruba people to describe dreadlocks is “a crazy person’s hair”. The language also has an idiom that shows how people feel about madness. A person will ask, “kini ogun were?” (what is the cure for madness?) and get the response, “egba ni ogun were” (whip is the cure for madness).

Mentally disturbed people often wear dreadlocks due to neglect. Because they are unpredictable, they are avoided as they roam the streets, and sometimes beaten. Their knotted hair show disharmony with the community; being unkempt and unruly, they are viewed as an affront to societal norm of orderliness.

Adult men with dreadlocks are viewed similarly. They are perceived as volatile and dangerous. Their untamed hair connotes wildness. Therefore, they are associated with the wilderness; uncultivated and unruly. In traditional Yoruba and Igbo worldview, unkempt hair is akin to the forest – mysterious, dark, and to be avoided.

There are exceptions: musicians and athletes who wear these hairstyles are “tolerated” as they are presumed to be assuming a persona that matches their brand. Essentially, theirs is a temporary fashion statement. And because they are famous and successful, they are protected from attacks on the streets.

Dark and frightening by tradition

The Yoruba thought system has it that some children are raised in the forest by gnomes and other mysterious beings. They come back into the community with supernatural powers, strange mannerisms, and sometimes knotted hair. Since they traverse the physical and spiritual worlds, it is believed that they can discern the destiny of others and can negatively influence them.

These knotted-haired people are avoided, more so when their dreadlocks are greying because “normal” adult Igbo and Yoruba males shave their heads completely, or they cut their hair very short. Deviating hairstyles are viewed suspiciously.

Unlike adult males, children born with knotted hair are revered and welcomed as a gift of the gods and not a product of the wild. Such children are called “dada” among the Yoruba in western Nigeria and the Hausa in the north. In south eastern Nigeria, the Igbo call them “ezenwa” or “elena”.

In Yoruba mythology, Dada is the son of Yemoja, the goddess of the sea, wealth, procreation, and increase. Dada is said to be one of the deified Yoruba kings. His younger brother is believed to be Shango, the god of thunder, who wears cornrows.

Children-dada are presumed to be spiritual beings and descendants of the gods by virtue of their dreadlocks. As such, their hair is not to be groomed and can only be touched by their mothers. They are the bringers of wealth, which is symbolised in both Yoruba and Igbo cultures by cowrie shells. They are celebrated. Feasts are held in their honour.

Their time on earth is special. It is marked by special rites that define different phases of life. In nearly all cases, their hair is shaved before puberty in order to integrate them into the community. The shaving ritual takes place at a river, where the shaved head is washed. The cut hair is then stored in a pot containing medicinal ingredients and water from the river. The concoction is believed to have healing properties and needed when they fall ill.

After the hair-shaving ceremony, the dada wears “tamed” hair in conformity with societal expectations. The child is still recognised as special and mysterious but is now integrated into society. The visible sign of their spirituality is no longer present. Any grownup, therefore, who still wears their dreadlocks is deemed to have been possessed by evil forces, or chose to do so malevolently; in either case, dangerous.

Challenges to the culture

Despite their negative associations, dreadlocks increased in Nigeria’s religious and popular cultures in the 1960s. Itinerant priests of the Celestial Church of Christ appear in white gowns and knotted hair. The famous musician and talented artist from Osogbo, Twin Seven Seven, performed on stage and television with his dreadlocks and white attire. He was the sole survivor of seven (considered a mysterious number in Yoruba tradition) sets of twins.

Yorubaland has the highest rate of twins in the world. Twins are considered spiritual beings, so they are also revered and celebrated. Being a twin, having knotted hair, and only wearing white clothes (like the gods or ghosts), further mystified Twin Seven-Seven in popular imagination and fanciful stories about him spread. For example, it was said that he was raised in the forest by spiritual beings, hence his creative imagination and hairstyle.

In the 1970s and 80s, other Nigerian musicians like Majek Fashek were inspired by the fame of Jamaican reggae artists to begin styling their hair the same way. From the 1990s, Nigerian footballers joined in by wearing cornrows and dreadlocks.

Barring these exceptions, adults with unkempt hair are judged deviant beings who have become conduits for evil. Since it is difficult to differentiate between adults wearing dreadlocks as fashion statement from those with “evil dreadlocks”, people either flee from them or attack them out of fear and self preservation.