By Daniel Nduka Okonkwo
The problem is not pride in one’s state; it is the childishness of turning that pride into a needless contest of superiority. When a public figure uses hospitality, lifestyle and public visibility as a basis for belittling another state, a reasonable question follows: beyond the noise, the luxury and the social-media display, what tangible investments and measurable contributions to development can be placed on the table? True wealth is not merely the ability to command attention or display affluence; it is the capacity to create businesses, jobs, infrastructure and lasting opportunities that outlive personal popularity. For a region whose future depends on cooperation, investment and collective advancement, state-versus-state boasting is not strength, it is a distraction, and an intellectually immature one at that.
There is confidence, and there is boastfulness. There is legitimate pride in one’s achievements, and there is the dangerous habit of measuring one’s worth by repeatedly putting down the achievements of others. Cubana Chief Priest’s latest public remarks about the economic strength of Imo State, particularly his attempt to contrast Imo with Anambra and other southeastern states, deserve scrutiny, not because Imo should not be celebrated, but because no serious argument for development should require the denigration of neighbouring communities.
In his live video, the social media personality reportedly declared: “Anything that wants to happen, let it happen. I have reached the stage where I can say what I want and no one can do anything about it.” He then challenged people from other Igbo states, saying: “I tell you this: as someone who has built a hospitality empire in my city, Owerri, what have you built in your own city? What is your staking power?” He went further, claiming that land opposite his hotel is worth ₦3 billion for 1,000 square metres and arguing that Imo has superior economic infrastructure and entertainment opportunities. Then came the broader challenge: “We Imo people are doing so well for ourselves, and what we’re doing, you guys cannot do.”
That is where legitimate state pride begins to drift into unnecessary regional rivalry. Imo can succeed without Anambra failing. Owerri can prosper without Nnewi becoming smaller. That should not be controversial.
Imo State has every right to celebrate its achievements. Owerri has grown as a hospitality, entertainment and commercial centre. Imo has produced successful entrepreneurs, professionals, industrialists and business people. The state has enormous human and economic potential. But development is not a beauty contest. The economic strength of a state cannot be established simply by pointing at hotels, nightlife, expensive cars, celebrity lifestyles or isolated property valuations. Serious economic strength is measured through productive capacity, industrial output, investment, employment, infrastructure, tax generation, exports, manufacturing, property development and sustainable businesses. Once those standards are applied, the argument becomes considerably more complicated.
The suggestion that people make money in Anambra and then travel to Imo because they supposedly have nowhere to spend their money in Anambra is particularly simplistic. What happens in Nnewi tells a very different story about wealth. Nnewi’s reputation was not built principally around consumption. It was built around production. For decades, Nnewi entrepreneurs have built businesses across manufacturing, automobile-related industries, pharmaceuticals, engineering, trading and other sectors. That is a fundamentally different form of economic power.
A city where people spend money is important. But a city where entrepreneurs create companies that generate money, employ people and produce goods is also important, and arguably more consequential to long-term economic development. The two should not be confused. Onitsha, too, has developed an enormous commercial ecosystem whose importance cannot simply be dismissed because another city has a vibrant hospitality industry. Anambra’s economic story is much bigger than nightlife, hotels and entertainment.
There is also the extraordinary claim that land opposite Cubana Chief Priest’s hotel is worth ₦3 billion per 1,000 square metres. If that figure represents an actual completed transaction, it would certainly be a remarkable property valuation. But one cannot responsibly use one property, or even a handful of properties, to establish that Imo has overtaken Anambra in land value.
Real estate is local. A property’s value depends on its exact location, title, accessibility, zoning, commercial potential, infrastructure, scarcity and market demand. Anyone familiar with parts of Anambra, particularly Nnewi and other high-demand commercial locations, knows that land values can be extraordinarily high. So the question is not who can shout the biggest land price. The question is where is the evidence? Was ₦3 billion actually paid? Was it an asking price? What was the title? What were comparable transactions? What is the prevailing price per square metre across the relevant commercial districts? Those are the questions an economic argument should answer.
Social media has created a peculiar culture in which an asking price can quickly become a measure of economic greatness. Someone announces that a property is worth billions, and immediately the figure becomes proof that the entire city has become economically superior. That is not how serious property economics works. The real measure is what buyers are actually willing and able to pay, and what economic activity the property supports.
A ₦3 billion piece of land sitting idle does not necessarily create the same economic value as a factory employing hundreds of people. A luxury hotel can be valuable. A manufacturing company can be valuable. A commercial market can be valuable. An industrial cluster can be valuable. A technology company can be valuable. The Southeast needs all of them.
Cubana Chief Priest deserves whatever credit is legitimately due to him for his contribution to the entertainment and hospitality sector. But hospitality is only one component of an economy. Owerri cannot be declared economically superior to Nnewi simply because it has a vibrant hospitality industry. By the same logic, no serious economist would declare one city economically stronger than another simply because it has more nightclubs, restaurants or luxury hotels.
Economic power is broader. It is about what a city produces, exports, builds, owns, employs and sustains. And this is precisely why boasting about consumption can become misleading.
The question thrown at other Igbo people “What have you built in your own city?” can actually be turned around. What have we collectively built? How many industries have we created? How many sustainable jobs? How many export-oriented businesses? How many world-class hospitals? How many technology companies? How many universities capable of competing internationally? How many modern transport systems? How many industrial parks? How many businesses that can survive their founders?
That is the conversation worth having, not “My state is better than yours.”
There is an even bigger issue beneath the social-media spectacle. Modern celebrity culture has made it increasingly difficult to distinguish between wealth creation and the appearance of wealth creation. A person can live an extraordinarily expensive lifestyle. A person can wear expensive clothes, drive expensive cars, host extravagant parties, surround himself with celebrities and become enormously popular online. None of those things, by themselves, establish the sustainability of the underlying wealth.
The real test is much harder: What remains when the cameras disappear? What assets remain? What businesses remain profitable? How many employees remain employed? What productive capacity remains? What institutions have been created? What survives if the personality disappears from the headlines? That is the difference between a sustainable economic empire and a lifestyle brand.
This is where the culture of conspicuous consumption becomes dangerous. A society can begin celebrating the appearance of wealth more than the production of wealth. Young people then see the cars, luxury clothing, hotels, parties and social-media displays and conclude that this is what economic success looks like. But a region does not become prosperous because its people become better at displaying wealth. It becomes prosperous because its people become better at creating wealth.
That distinction should concern every Igbo leader, entrepreneur and influencer. We need more factories and fewer fantasies. More production and less performance. More investment and less exhibition. More institutions and fewer personal empires built around social-media attention.
The reference to power plants is another point that should be treated within its proper context. If Imo State is developing energy infrastructure capable of improving industrial productivity, that should be applauded. There is no shame in saying, “Imo is building.” But the argument should end there. There is no need to add, “Anambra cannot do what we are doing.” Because if Anambra builds something better tomorrow, that should be good news for every Igbo person.
If Abia builds a major industrial project, good. If Enugu attracts major investment, good. If Ebonyi develops new infrastructure, good. If Anambra expands its industrial base, good. If Imo expands its energy infrastructure, even better. That is competition that benefits everybody.
The Southeast already has enough challenges. We have unemployment, insecurity, infrastructure deficits, young people leaving, political divisions, businesses relocating and communities struggling with poor public services. We have a generation that desperately needs opportunities. Why, then, should influential people spend their energy creating unnecessary hostility between neighbouring Igbo states?
The people of Imo are not the enemies of Anambra. The people of Anambra are not the enemies of Imo. Nnewi’s success does not diminish Owerri. Owerri’s success does not diminish Nnewi. Onitsha’s commercial strength does not diminish Aba. Enugu’s development does not diminish Ebonyi. The Southeast is one economic ecosystem.
Capital does not respect artificial boundaries. People move. Businesses move. Investment moves. Talent moves. Consumers move. Entrepreneurs move. That interconnectedness is our strength.
This is why Cubana Chief Priest should exercise restraint. He may be proud of his achievements. He may believe he has earned the right to speak without fear. He is entitled to his opinion. But there is a difference between confidence and needless provocation. There is a difference between saying, “I am proud of what Imo has achieved,” and saying, “What we are doing, you people cannot do.” The first is pride. The second invites confrontation.
The Southeast does not need influential personalities manufacturing enemies among their own people merely to demonstrate superiority. We should be building bridges across our states, not burning them for social-media applause.
And if Cubana Chief Priest genuinely believes he has built a hospitality empire, then the empire should be allowed to speak for itself. Let the businesses survive. Let the investments grow. Let employees prosper. Let taxes be paid. Let factories operate. Let properties appreciate through genuine transactions. Let new companies emerge. Let the next generation inherit productive assets.
That is how an empire speaks.
Not through insults. Not through comparisons. Not through endless displays of consumption. And certainly not by telling an entire neighbouring state that its people cannot compete.
Cubana Chief Priest asks: “What have you built in your own city?” Fair question. But it should be asked of everyone, including himself. And the answer should not be measured by Instagram. It should be measured by what survives.
Because the ultimate test of wealth is sustainability. The ultimate test of development is productivity. The ultimate test of an entrepreneur is not how loudly he announces his success, but how much value he creates. And the ultimate test of an Igbo public figure should be whether his influence brings his people together or drives them further apart.
If Cubana Chief Priest genuinely wants to pressure Igbo people to build, then let him pressure us to build together. Let him challenge Nnewi entrepreneurs to build bigger factories. Let Nnewi challenge Owerri to build better industries. Let Owerri challenge Onitsha to improve its infrastructure. Let Aba challenge everyone on manufacturing. Let Enugu challenge everyone on education and technology. Let Ebonyi challenge everyone on agriculture and infrastructure.
That would be a competition worth having.
But turning Igbo states against one another over hotel culture, nightlife, land prices and conspicuous lifestyles is not economic leadership. It is noise.
And for someone who has built his public identity around wealth and success, he should understand one simple economic principle: A lifestyle can be faked. Sustainability cannot.
The Southeast does not need personalities competing over who can boast the loudest. It needs builders competing over who can create the most enduring value.
Celebrate Imo. Celebrate Anambra. Celebrate Nnewi. Celebrate Owerri. Celebrate Onitsha. Celebrate Aba. Celebrate Enugu. Celebrate Ebonyi.
But stop behaving as though the success of one Igbo state requires the humiliation of another.
The Southeast will rise together, or continue arguing among itself while others build.
Daniel Nduka Okonkwo is an investigative journalist, human rights advocate, and publisher, and the founder of Profiles International Human Rights Advocate, PIHRA. His work focuses on governance, accountability, and the protection of fundamental rights across Nigeria and Africa. His reporting has appeared in Vanguard, Daily Trust, Sahara Reporters, African Defence Forum, Opinion Nigeria, and Daily Intel, among others.
Read more of his work on the PIHRA blog: https://profilesinternationalhumanrightsadv.blogspot.com
For tips, feedback, or collaboration, reach him at dan.okonkwo.73@gmail.com
