I am not very sure about other people presently constituted as “Nigerians” but I am sure of my own people, the Igbo. An Igbo man from Mbaise who's lived half of his 60 year old life in US once told me, “they came with chains and hung on our necks to drag us to their place but a century later, they came with invisible chains. From what I see of the future, ọtụtụ ndị be anyị e funyụọla anya. Chehuo ya”. It was this man that took time to explain to me what a Last Real Estate is. He told me it is the American language for one's choice of a proposed gravesite when s/he dies. He revealed to me that our Igbo People who have been lost to that part of the world and have no hopes of ever returning home either alive or dead have gone ahead to insure some money for places where they'd be buried when they die there in the US as their kids would never consider stepping foot into Igboland again or returning their corpses. As he went further explaining and giving examples with names of generations and families in Anambara and Imo that are on the verge of extinction or have gone into extinction, cold shivers ran down my spine.



The historical implications swelled my head as the ripples kept extending their folds. Each time I remember our discussion and reprocess our future, I fear. The funny thing is that many of our people at home haven't fully grasped the dangerous future we face in this aspect but many of them in that US know this but are too shocked to communicate it. When some of us sleep and wake up in Igbo Consciousness revival, many think we're just engaging in the frivolity of projecting our Ethnicity. Heck, it is deeper than you think. The battle is more spiritual than physical. We're fighting for a survival with our blood's last drop while re-echoing the wisdom of our Ancestors “ọsọ ndụ ada agwụ ike”. My thinking is: We have to hold onto something because we can't just afford to lose out totally.
Why this?


I know an Igbo man. Let's call him Nwezi — “nwa a mụlụ n'ezi” — belonging to the outside. He's from one of the big towns in Igboland. He got a scholarship to study abroad in the days of Old Eastern Region, when Zik and Ọkpara's governments supported intelligent Easterners to go study abroad and return to help develop home. Nwezi was away all throughout the genocide and War period studying in the US. He returned to his hometown after the war. By that time, he was in his 30s and was a physician. Even when he returned, he spent two nights in his village and rushed back to Lagos where he stayed much longer before going back to US. By 1980s, he had felt he needed to build his own house as is customary among Igbo males who have come of age physically, materially and socially. He sent several monies home and a house was erected for him. He returned again in the 90s and slept in the said house for only few nights and rushed back to Lagos from where he fled back to base. That was going to be his last time of setting foot on the soil of his birth forever! His wife and kids never returned home. They know nobody back home, but they're all ndị Igbo. Their father, Nwezi nwa Okeke has now grown old at nearly 80 years of age in 2017. And dead too. The demised Nwezi has already paid for his LRE having lost hope of returning to his soil of birth, at least in death. His kids don't care. They only bear "Okeke" as the only thing Igbo perching loosely on their identity, same with their mum. Nwezi's funeral arrangements have been assigned to a funeral house to take care of and a space in a cemetery has been made ready for his interment. I don't know if he's been buried, but he will, soon.


The Obi of Nwezi Okeke in his soil of birth in Igboland has officially gone into extinction forever in less than a century out of no violent causes, thus defying the prayers of our Ancestors which were captured in our names: “Obiefuna (may my Obi never go lost), Obiechina (may my Obi never go into extinction) Obiagbaọsọ (may my Obi never get chased away), Obiakọ (may there not be a lack of Obi)”. Nwezi Okeke is just one of the hundreds and even possibly, thousands of such historical tragedies that have happened, are happening or will happen.


By 2060, it would have been nearly 80 years of the Visa Rush that swept a lot of our people into the US and I keep wondering what that time would look like in our history of existence as ndị Igbo. I've examined our history in the past 5 centuries and realized that no matter our migrations, we rarely “wilfully” allowed our dead bodies stay outside home, except in this century. That only happened via slavery and it was no fault of ours. This time, no force, no coercion. Our people willingly submit both alive and dead. I remember Nwezi Okeke and likes, and I shudder at the unknown future. People who left their lands in a bid for better life and opportunities which they hope to bring home ending up trapped by complex social structures and massive culture shock. They end up in Old People's homes — something we don't imagine back home. Their kids lost to the enslaving culture and never care about them till death. And then they die and are abandoned in the same environment of trap. Something they never imagined would ever happen to them years ago when they were growing at home.


As one man who's lived long in the US told me “Obodo oyibo dị mma mana ọ na-elekwá isi nabụ”. These things give me deep, very deep and deeply concerning thoughts — not on the victims but on our collective race as a people. The fear of losing language, and then again, the fear of losing many Obi. Kedụ Onye Igbo sị na egwu adịrọ n'ọdịniru? Ọ bụ onye na e nwerọ anya ime mmụọ na-ekwu ya. Ka mkpụrụ obi “Nwezi” zulu ike na ndọkwa.


Ka Obi anyị rapụ i chi.
Ka Obi ànyị rapụ I fu.
Ka Obi anyị rapụ ịgba ọsọ.
Ndị be anyị, ka ọ dịbakene!



http://etimes.com.ng/2017/04/24/last-real-estate/

Nwanne, your article is something that should give every true Son of Igbo land serious concern.

This same scenario even occurs right here in Nigeria. Some travel to Lagos and become so absorbed they tend to forget their roots, their children can't even utter one single word of Igbo language. When they pass away, their children don't even care or understand the importance of taking their father back home.

Egwu di.

If serious care is not taken, our extinction as predicted might be around the corner but Chukwu ekwela.