Lagos, Nigeria’s vibrant commercial capital and historic melting pot, has found itself in the middle of a troubling controversy. In recent weeks, some Local Council Development Areas (LCDAs) have unilaterally renamed several streets, many of which bore Igbo-associated names such as “Imo Eze Street” and “Uzor Street.” These names were replaced with Yoruba figures and personalities, including Daddy Showkey, Olamide, Tony Tetuila, Bola Tinubu, and Governor Babajide Sanwo‑Olu.
Supporters of the move claim it is an effort to honour local heroes, reclaim indigenous identity, and celebrate Yoruba culture and achievements. They frame it as a patriotic act to preserve heritage and remove names that they see as “foreign” or “non‑indigenous.”
But the decision has sparked outrage across Nigeria, with critics describing it as unconstitutional, undemocratic, and divisive. Senior Advocate of Nigeria Femi Falana has condemned the move as a blatant violation of the 1999 Constitution, pointing out that LCDAs have no legal power to rename streets. Others have decried the lack of public consultation, noting that residents who have lived on these streets for decades were never informed or asked for their consent.
Most disturbing is the clear pattern of replacing Igbo-associated names with Yoruba ones. To many, this is not a harmless administrative act but a calculated attempt at ethnic erasure, a symbolic rewriting of Lagos’ multicultural history. It sends a dangerous message that the contributions of non-Yoruba communities, especially the Igbo, are disposable, no matter how deeply they are woven into the city’s fabric.
Street names are not just signposts; they are public memory. They carry history, identity, and the stories of the people who helped shape a place. When these names are erased, so too are the legacies of those who built, lived, and contributed to that community. History has shown us that erasure often begins subtly, through ink on signs, names removed from walls, and can evolve into deeper forms of exclusion and intolerance. Nazi Germany’s campaign against the Jews, for instance, began not with bullets but with the removal of Jewish names from public spaces.
The Igbo have played an undeniable role in building Lagos into the economic powerhouse it is today. From Idumota traders to Victoria Island professionals, from market women to industrialists, Igbo enterprise and resilience have been part of Lagos’ success story. Yet this incident is a painful reminder that our contributions, no matter how immense, can be erased at the stroke of a pen.
This should serve as a wake‑up call for Ndigbo. For too long, we have invested heavily in other regions while neglecting our homeland. Billions of naira are sunk into Lagos real estate, markets, and industries, yet our own cities, Aba, Onitsha, Enugu, Owerri, Abakaliki, remain underdeveloped shadows of their potential. We cannot continue to build monuments in other people’s lands only to have them torn down when political tides shift.
The time has come to think home, invest home, and build home. Aba should rival Guangzhou as an industrial hub. Onitsha should be our Dubai of trade and commerce. Enugu must once again become a centre of energy, governance, and innovation. Only a self‑reliant, prosperous South‑East can guarantee the security, dignity, and respect of the Igbo nation.
Governor Sanwo‑Olu must be reminded that he swore an oath to serve all Lagosians, not just one ethnic group. Lagos is not an ancestral inheritance; it is a collective trust, built through the sweat of millions from every corner of Nigeria. To allow one group to erase the legacy of another is to betray that trust and undermine the very unity on which Lagos thrives.
This renaming exercise is not just wrong; it is dangerous. It undermines democracy, tramples on the law, and fans the flames of ethnic politics at a time when Nigeria’s unity is already fragile. It must be reversed, not only to restore legality but also to preserve the inclusive spirit that has made Lagos the country’s beating heart.
For Ndigbo, this is more than a Lagos issue. It is a reminder that no matter how much we contribute to the prosperity of other regions, our identity and legacy are never fully secure outside our homeland. True power, dignity, and respect lie in building and safeguarding our own region.
History is teaching us a hard lesson: he who forgets his roots is the first to fall in the storm. Lagos’ actions should jolt us into action. Let this be the moment when Ndigbo finally decide to return, to rebuild, and to reclaim our destiny at home, because only at home can we never be erased.
By Duruebube Uzii na Abosi
Hon. Chima Nnadi-Oforgu
OBLONG MEDIA UNLIMITED 
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