Introduction
“Ebela m akwa ụwa” meaning I have cried about my world is more than a song. It is
a lament, a confession, a spiritual mirror held up to the human condition. When
the Oriental Brothers released this highlife classic, they were not merely
entertaining; they were interpreting life. They were naming the ache of existence,
the fragility of fortune, and the inevitability of accountability before God.
The song’s central metaphor, the world as a marketplace is
one of the oldest in Igbo cosmology. Life is a temporary market trip; no matter
how long you stay, you must eventually pack your wares and return home. And
when you do, you stand before the One who sent you.
In today’s Nigeria, this metaphor feels painfully relevant. The poor cry
about their world because their world has become unbearably heavy. Political
instability, economic hardship, social fragmentation, and religious
manipulation have turned daily survival into a spiritual trial.
This essay draws from the song’s wisdom to examine Nigeria’s present
condition: its problems, its implications, and the pathways toward healing.
The Lament of the Nigerian
Poor
The song’s refrain: I have cried about my world captures the
emotional state of millions of Nigerians today. Their tears are not abstract;
they are rooted in lived realities:
Economic Hardship
- Inflation
erodes the value of wages and savings.
- Food
prices rise faster than incomes.
- Youth
unemployment remains high, pushing many into despair or migration.
- Small
businesses struggle under inconsistent power supply and rising costs.
For the poor, the world is not merely difficult; it is exhausting.
Political Disillusionment
Many citizens feel that governance has become distant from their daily
struggles. Institutions meant to protect them often fail to do so. Public trust
erodes when promises are made but not kept.
Social Fragmentation
Communal
bonds weaken under the pressure of insecurity, ethnic tension, and competition
for scarce resources. The poor often bear the brunt of these fractures.
Religious Exploitation
While faith remains a source of strength, some religious spaces exploit
desperation, offering miracles instead of empowerment, and fear instead of
hope. The poor cry because their world has become a burden they did not choose.
From Destiny to Agency
This honours the Oriental Brothers’ philosophical depth while rejecting
fatalism and giving the poor agency, dignity, and authorship over their future.
The line “If your world brings you gold, who will you send it to?”
is often understood as a statement about destiny, whatever life hands you,
whether wealth or misfortune, becomes your portion. In the traditional
worldview, this can sound like resignation: take what you are given; you
cannot change it.
But Nigeria’s poor cannot afford such fatalism, and the song itself, when
read through the lens of contemporary struggle invites a deeper, more
empowering interpretation.
The song is not saying: “Accept your fate.” It is saying: “Recognize
your reality, but do not surrender your agency.”
The World Is a Marketplace
The Oriental Brothers describe the world as a marketplace, a temporary space where everyone must transact with whatever life offers. But a marketplace is not a prison. It is a place of negotiation, choice, strategy, and movement. You may not control the market, but you can control how you navigate it. So, the question becomes:
- If your world brings you hardship, who will you send it to?
- If your world brings you injustice, who will you send it to?
- If your world brings you poverty, who will you send it to?
The answer is simple: no one. Because the poor are not passive
recipients of destiny; they are active participants in shaping their future.
You Are Not What the System
Made You
Nigeria’s political and economic structures have often been designed in
ways that limit opportunity, suppress mobility, and keep the poor in cycles of
dependence. But the poor are not defined by what leaders have crafted for them.
They are defined by:
- their
resilience,
- their
creativity,
- their
communal strength,
- their
refusal to give up,
- their
ability to build from scarcity,
- their
insistence on hope.
Destiny is not inheritance but Building
The song’s imagery of the world as a marketplace can be reclaimed as a
metaphor for empowerment:
- A
marketplace is where you bargain.
- A
marketplace is where you learn.
- A
marketplace is where you adapt.
- A
marketplace is where you refuse to be cheated twice.
- A
marketplace is where you return tomorrow with a new strategy.
Nigeria’s poor have been handed a difficult market, but they are not
powerless traders. They have the right, and the capacity, to demand fairness,
to organize, to vote, to innovate, to educate their children, to challenge
injustice, and to rewrite the script imposed on them.
A New Interpretation
Instead of reading the song as a fatalistic acceptance of destiny, we
can reinterpret it as a call to consciousness:
- If
your world brings you suffering, you can resist it.
- If
your world brings you poverty, you can challenge it.
- If
your world brings you injustice, you can expose it.
- If
your world brings you exclusion, you can organize.
- If
your world brings you silence, you can speak.
The poor are not spectators in Nigeria’s story; they are the
protagonists. They are not victims of destiny; they are authors of possibility.
They are not defined by what leaders have done; they are defined by what they
choose to do next.
The Call to Accountability
The song insists on spiritual accountability. It reminds listeners that
every action, good or evil will be accounted for before God. In Nigeria’s
context, this raises uncomfortable truths:
Accountability Is Weak
- Corruption
often goes unpunished.
- Public
funds disappear without consequence.
- Injustice
persists in courts and institutions.
- The
poor suffer while the powerful evade responsibility.
Religious Rhetoric Without Ethical Practice
Nigeria is deeply religious, yet the gap between faith and ethics is
wide. The song challenges this contradiction. It calls for a spirituality that
transforms society, not one that merely comforts individuals.
A Nation That Forgets Accountability Becomes
Unsafe. When leaders and institutions do not fear consequences, the vulnerable
suffer.
The Burden of Inequality
The song acknowledges that life brings both fortune and misfortune. But
in Nigeria, misfortune is not evenly distributed.
The Poor Carry Disproportionate Burdens:
- They
face the harshest effects of inflation.
- They
live in communities most affected by insecurity.
- They
lack access to quality healthcare.
- They
are the first to lose jobs and the last to receive support.
- They
are blamed for conditions created by systemic failures.
The poor cry because their world is shaped by forces beyond their
control.
Weep Not, Nigeria’s Poor
The wisdom of “Ebela m akwa ụwa” offers a roadmap for renewal.
Rebuild Institutions That Protect the
Vulnerable
- Strengthen
anti-corruption agencies.
- Improve
access to justice.
- Ensure
transparency in public spending.
Prioritize Economic Policies That Lift the
Poor
- Invest
in agriculture, manufacturing, and small businesses.
- Stabilize
power supply.
- Expand
social welfare programs.
- Support
youth entrepreneurship.
Restore Security Through Accountability and
Community Partnership
- Reform
policing.
- Strengthen
local intelligence networks.
- Address
root causes of conflict: poverty, land pressure, and exclusion.
Promote Ethical Leadership
- Leadership
training rooted in service, not entitlement.
- Civic
education that emphasizes responsibility and accountability.
Reclaim Religion as a Force for Justice
- Encourage
faith communities to champion social responsibility.
- Challenge
exploitative religious practices.
- Promote
compassion, integrity, and communal care.
Strengthen Social Solidarity
- Encourage
community-based initiatives.
- Support
cooperatives, local savings groups, and mutual aid networks.
- Celebrate
shared identity over divisive narratives.
Conclusion
“Ebela m akwa ụwa” is a lament, but it is also a reminder: Life
is temporary, and accountability is inevitable. Power fades, wealth passes, but
justice endures.
Nigeria’s poor have cried long enough. Their tears are a testimony, a
warning, and a prayer. But they are also a call to action: for leaders,
institutions, communities, and citizens.
A new Nigeria is possible, one where the poor do not weep alone, where
the marketplace of life is fair, and where every person can return “home” with
dignity.
The song teaches us that the world is fleeting, but righteousness is eternal. Nigeria must choose the path that honours both God and humanity.
Comments
The song does not deny pain; it confronts it. Yet it insists that life is not static. Destiny, even when bruised by hardship, is not sealed. Through calm philosophical tenets, the artist encouraged the survivors to reimagine their tomorrow—to understand that suffering is not the final verdict, and that transformation is possible if one chooses resilience over despair.
In this sense, “Ebela m Akwa Uwa” becomes a rising-hope anthem: a gentle but firm reminder that while history may wound us, it does not have to imprison us. Happiness, victory, and renewal are not accidents; they are choices forged in the aftermath of loss. That message aligns profoundly with the writer’s contribution—calling us not to romanticize pain, but to consciously bend our circumstances toward meaning, growth, and life.
Ogbuke’s Cubicle’s Desk