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His death was confirmed by his eldest son, Emma Ejeagha, in a telephone conversation with Vanguard. Though long anticipated due to his frail health in recent years, the news of his passing has struck a deep emotional chord among Nigerians, particularly in the Southeast where he was regarded as both a musical genius and a moral compass.
Mike Ejeagha was not just a musician — he was a walking archive of Igbo wisdom, a philosopher in melody, and a bridge between generations. Through a music career that spanned more than six decades, he crafted a legacy rooted in the preservation and popularization of Igbo oral tradition, proverbs, and indigenous storytelling.
Born in August 1930 in Imezi Owa, Ezeagu Local Government Area of Enugu State, Mike Ejeagha came of age in the post-colonial years when Nigeria’s music scene was beginning to flourish with the influences of Highlife from Ghana and local traditional rhythms. Rather than ride the wave of popular Western styles, Ejeagha chose a more culturally grounded path — he made Igbo language and philosophy the centerpiece of his art.
“I did not go into music just to entertain,” Ejeagha once said in an interview. “I went into music to teach and to remind us who we are.”
That ethos defined his career. Known for his witty, aphorism-laden lyrics, the maestro seamlessly blended didactic narratives with rhythmic guitar-based Highlife. Each song was a moral tale, wrapped in folkloric idioms that reflected deep knowledge of Igbo cosmology and traditional values. Songs like “Omekagu,” “Uwa Mgbede,” “Akuko Na Egwu,” and “Nwoke Bu Ife” remain timeless for their depth, humour, and moral clarity.
The Storyteller Supreme
In an era when lyrics were often shallow or repetitive, Ejeagha’s music stood apart as philosophical treatises rendered in song. His storytelling prowess drew comparisons with griots of West African lore. He didn’t just sing — he lectured, provoked thought, and ignited nostalgia for ancestral wisdom.
Ejeagha’s approach to composition was meticulous. He would often begin with a traditional folktale or proverb, then flesh it out into a full-fledged narrative, complete with dialogue, humor, suspense, and moral resolution — all rendered in beautiful Igbo diction.
“It was like listening to a village elder around a moonlit fire,” says Dr. Chijioke Ezeonwumelu, a musicologist at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka. “He didn’t just make music. He preserved culture.”
By the 1980s, Ejeagha had become a household name, particularly among the Igbo-speaking populace. His music was a staple on Radio Nigeria and state-run stations in the old Eastern Region. His radio program, Akuko N’Egwu (Story and Song), became an instant hit, using music as a vehicle for parables, oral history, and ethics.
At a time when Nigeria was still struggling with post-war reconstruction and identity, Ejeagha’s music offered healing and grounding. His songs addressed real-life challenges — from marital strife to greed, dishonesty, hard work, and community responsibility. His genius was in his ability to deliver these themes with humour and melody, ensuring his music remained palatable even when it tackled uncomfortable truths.
In one of his popular songs, Enyi Ga Achi, Ejeagha told the story of betrayal and trust using the allegory of an elephant in a village setting. In another, Ikpechakwa Nkegi, he warned against arrogance and pride. Each of his tracks functioned like a musical folktale, complete with resolution and a take-home message.
Few artists in Nigeria’s history have done more to preserve and elevate indigenous language in mainstream music. At a time when many musicians were switching to English or pidgin to court wider audiences, Ejeagha stayed resolute in his commitment to Igbo.
“There is something powerful about hearing wisdom in your mother tongue,” says broadcaster and cultural activist Nwakaego Madu. “Ejeagha made us proud to be Igbo.”
His impact on the Igbo language was so profound that linguists and cultural scholars began citing his music in studies of modern Igbo communication. His vast lyrical corpus — numbering over 300 songs — has been used to teach proverbs, grammar, and cultural etiquette in schools and universities.
In the early 2000s, his collection of folk songs was archived by the Nigerian Television Authority (NTA) and the Federal Ministry of Information as part of efforts to document Nigeria’s intangible cultural heritage.
Like many pioneers of traditional music, Mike Ejeagha’s later years were marked by neglect from the institutions he helped uplift. Despite his contributions to national culture, he lived modestly in his Enugu home and struggled with health complications, including partial blindness and immobility.
In 2020, a video surfaced online showing Ejeagha bedridden, sparking widespread concern and calls for the government to recognize and support the living legend. Though the Enugu State Government reportedly reached out, many believe more could have been done.
“It’s a tragedy that we often wait until our icons are gone before we remember their worth,” lamented Professor Uche Emeagwali, a cultural historian.
Tributes Pour In
Following the announcement of his death, tributes have poured in from all corners of Nigeria and the diaspora. The Ohanaeze Ndigbo, the apex Igbo socio-cultural group, described him as “a treasure trove of ancestral wisdom and a guardian of Igbo heritage.” Governor Peter Mbah of Enugu State also paid homage, saying Ejeagha’s “voice will echo through the hills and valleys of Igboland for generations to come.”
Nigerian artists from various genres have also expressed their admiration. Flavour N’abania, a contemporary Highlife star who often references traditional music, tweeted: “The great Mike Ejeagha showed us how to teach through music. A giant has gone to rest.”
Even beyond the music industry, writers, linguists, and cultural organizations have praised Ejeagha’s lifelong dedication to indigenous knowledge. “He was not just a musician. He was a sage in the tradition of our ancestors,” said Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie in a tribute on her social media page.
Mike Ejeagha’s death marks the end of an era — a chapter in Nigerian music history when art was not just entertainment but a moral and cultural institution. Yet, his passing is not the end of his influence. His music continues to be streamed by young and old alike, his proverbs quoted in public discourse, his stories retold in classrooms, homes, and public forums.
Indeed, Mike Ejeagha may be gone, but he will never be forgotten.
As the Igbo saying goes: Onye nwuru anwu anaghi efu n’ala mmuo — the dead are not lost in the land of the spirits.
Ejeagha lives on in his songs, in the wisdom he imparted, and in the cultural renaissance he helped spark. And as his voice echoes in the chords of “Omekagu” or “Ikpechakwa Nkegi,” generations yet unborn will still learn the lessons he so beautifully sang.
