ILU NLA KAN KO SI, OMO NLA LO WA: The Mirror We Must Look Into

There are no pre-made, automatically prosperous cities dropped from the heavens. There are only communities that were deliberately built, fought for, and raised from the dust by the sheer will, influence, and sacrifice of their own flesh and blood. 

An old Yoruba axiom says it raw and bare: "Ilu nla kan ko si, omo nla lo wa" —There is no such thing as an inherently "big town"; what exists are illustrious sons and daughters who choose to make their towns big. 

A town, no matter how historically rich, culturally vibrant, or politically strategic it may be, will remain stagnant, struggling, and backward if its blessed, highly placed children turn their backs on it. The present physical and developmental situation of Igboho is not an act of spiritual wizardry; it is the direct reflection of what we—its sons and daughters, both at home and in the Diaspora—have chosen to make of it, or failed to do for it.

Look Around Us: How Single Men Changed the Story

We do not need to look far to realize that towns are transformed by individuals who refuse to let their ancestral homes rot in obscurity. 

Take our neighbors in Oke-Ogun. Look at what grit, influence, and vision can achieve. Think of how icons like Chief Ahmed Raji, SAN, threw their massive weight behind the growth of Iseyin, using their network and resources to attract monumental developmental milestones, including the advocacy and facilitation that birthed the LAUTECH campus and transformed educational landscapes. Look at how other indomitable leaders rallied to birth transformative institutions like the Federal University of Agriculture and Technology, Okeho FUNATO. 

These men did not wait for magic. They did not sit in the comfort of their mansions in Lagos, Abuja, or abroad to lament government marginalization. They stood up. They brought home the bacon. They leveraged their names, their sweat, and their connections to anchor development in their soil. 

The Igboho Paradox: Rich in History, Poor in Intentional Synergy

And then, we look at Igboho—the ancient, majestic cradle of the old Oyo Empire. A land flowing with historical pride, vast agricultural wealth, and brilliant minds scattered across the globe. 

Yet, when we walk through our streets, the contrast is heartbreaking. 

Why must Igboho always lag behind? Why must our infrastructure remain fragile? Why must our healthcare facilities rot, our educational structures beg for rescue, and our youths roam the streets while our wealthy and influential elites watch from a distance?

The bitter truth that hurts the most is this: Igboho is what it is today because of you and I. Too many of us treat Igboho as a place to visit only for burials, sallah, or Christmas festivals—a cemetery of memories rather than a home to build. Too many of our successful sons and daughters engage in petty local politics, pull each other down, or hoard their God-given resources instead of channeling them into collective advancement. We complain about government neglect, forgetting that governments only respect communities that show capacity, unity, and internal self-rescue.

A Call to Conscience

If Igboho must rise, the mindset of *"let someone else do it"* must die. 

No governor will love Igboho more than the children of Igboho. No outsider will come to tar our roads, build our industries, or secure our future if we refuse to lay the first brick. Whether you live in the cozy diaspora of foreign lands, hustle on the streets of Lagos, or manage your affairs right here on native soil—the blood of Igboho runs through your veins, and her backwardness is an indictment on our collective pedigree.

Look at the mirror. Look at the towns around us moving forward. 

Let us stop waiting for political messiahs. Let us emulate the selfless footprints of true community builders. It is time for our elites, our technocrats, our business moguls, and our everyday people to look past ego, politics, and divisions. 

Ilu nla ko si; omo nla lo wa. If Igboho is to become the great city of our dreams, 'we' must become the great people who built it. 

The time for excuses has expired. Igboho is waiting. What will you do for her today?