By Confidence Omojafor

The Shadows Beneath the Crown

In the deep heart of southern Nigeria, where the echoes of royal drums once called people to gather in reverence, ancient traditions still hold an unbreakable grip on the soul of the people. The coronation of a king, once a symbol of divine connection and ancestral pride, remains one of the most sacred and secretive events in the history of ancient kingdoms in the country.

Yet behind the gold crowns and sacred chants lies a chilling silence. A silence built on fear, secrecy, and the hidden suffering of those caught within the rituals of succession. For centuries, the path to kingship has demanded loyalty not only to one’s people, but also to the ancient gods, appeased through rites that no longer belong in our modern world.

This story is not told to mock tradition, but to illuminate the human cost buried beneath it — to give voice to those silenced in the name of culture, and to call for a new dawn where heritage is honored without the shedding of human blood. Long before colonial borders were drawn, the various kingdoms of Southern Nigeria stood as beacons of civilization, governance, and spiritual wisdom. In these kingdoms, kingship was not seized through war or conquest; it was bestowed through lineage, destiny, and sacred rites.

Councils of elders, priests, and chiefs guarded the traditions with fierce devotion, ensuring that each new ruler was chosen in alignment with the will of the ancestors. These customs were once celebrated for their order and spirituality. They represented unity, continuity, and reverence for history. But like many powerful traditions, they also carried a shadow — one that, over the centuries, began to obscure the light of their noble purpose.

The Darker Side of Reality

In certain corners of these ancient systems, the process of succession still involves  rituals of pain and blood. The symbol of purification is sadly still mired in acts of human suffering — sacrifices made to appease unseen deities, and ceremonies shrouded murder, secrecy and silence.

Within the walls of palaces and sacred shrines beheadings are whispered in low tones during rituals where the living are offered to the ancestors, of royal initiations marked by pain, and of sacred oaths sealed with human blood. These acts, often defended as sacred customs, have crossed into the realm of human rights violations.

The elder councils, once seen as guardians of tradition, sometimes enforce these practices without regard for the consent or wellbeing of those involved. Princes, young men born into royal lineage find themselves standing at a crossroads between honor and horror. To refuse is to be branded a traitor to ancestry; to comply is to bear scars that last a lifetime, and wash one’s hands in blood. For the sons of royal blood, birthright is both a blessing and a curse. The journey to the throne is not one of celebration alone but of sacrifice, a test of obedience to tradition, often at great personal cost.

Those chosen to ascend the throne are sometimes subjected to ritual scarring — physical marks carved upon their skin as symbols of purity and spiritual rebirth. While these scars may appear to the outsider as simple cultural emblems, their pain runs deeper than the flesh. Behind each mark is a reminder of submission, silence, and the ancient demand for loyalty and silence at all costs. The would-be kings live in fear of traditions they did not choose. Many endure psychological torment, knowing that the crown they are destined to wear might come with the blood of others. Some are forced to witness or participate in acts they cannot speak of — bound by oaths that threaten their lives should they ever reveal the truth. They are victims of a heritage that has refused to evolve.

The Human Rights Dimension

No culture, no matter how sacred, stands above the right to life and dignity. Nigeria, as a proud member of the international community, is bound by the principles enshrined in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights — both of which guarantee every person’s right to freedom, safety, and self-determination.

Ritual practices that involve human sacrifice, coercion, or psychological torment stand in direct opposition to these principles. The silence that surrounds them  enforced through secrecy, fear, and reverence for tradition — only deepens the suffering of those trapped within this system.The responsibility now lies with both the Nigerian government and traditional authorities to draw a line between culture and cruelty. To honor tradition does not mean preserving its violent remnants. True heritage uplifts; it does not destroy.

Cultural evolution is not betrayal — it is survival. Nigeria’s ancient kingdoms can retain their majesty and sacred customs without the shadow of blood.

A Call to Conscience and Action

This is an appeal to the conscience of humanity.To the Federal Government of Nigeria, this is a call to investigate and legislate against ritual practices that violate human rights, regardless of where they occur or under whose authority they are sanctioned. The National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) must take proactive steps to protect potential victims, including royal descendants who are compelled to undergo such initiations.To the United Nations Human Rights Council and the Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights, there is a need to bring global attention to these hidden abuses. The suffering of one human being in the name of culture is a stain on our collective conscience.

To traditional rulers and councils, the time has come to embrace transformation. Culture is not static; it evolves with wisdom. By ending harmful practices, they do not weaken their heritage — they strengthen it, preserving it for generations free from fear.

And to civil society, activists, journalists, and human rights defenders, your voice remains the torch that exposes the dark corners of silence. This story must be told, not to shame, but to awaken compassion and justice. Every kingdom stands taller when its people are free from fear. The true strength of tradition lies not in the spilling of blood, but in the preservation of life. The ancestors do not ask for death; they ask for remembrance, honor, and integrity.

Sometime last year, the story of Osarunwense Obanwonyi elicited national outrage when his father, the chief priest of the powerful OGUNAMEN fraternity in Benin died and he, his son was chosen to take over the position. The young man was informed to his own alarm that he had been initiated into the cult at birth and as his father’s first son it was his inheritance to succeed his late father in carrying messages from the spiritual realm to the physical and administering rights and oaths on members. The young man’s refusal to take the position led to intense suffering, torture and severe beatings from members of OGUNAMEN. He was hunted down everywhere he went around the country until he had to flee overseas. 

And he is certainly not alone. Bernard Osowochi in Boki, central Cross River State, Alabioso Okebukola in Osun state, Topsman Aleje in Kogi. Totsman is said to have later taken his own life by ingesting poison just to escape the nightmare. Buhari Momodu from Edo state is said to have fled the country because he refused to inherit his father’s throne out of fear of the certain torture, blood shed, ritual scaring that he and his family must go through if he accepted to become the king of his people. Bernard Osowochi rowed a local canoe into South West Cameroun and no one has heard from him in the last eight years. There are certainly many more victims out there living miserably in the shadows of society in mortal fear of their cursed inheritance. 

The government and human rights agencies across the world must now pay attention to the ancient practices of kingship inheritance and initiation of unconsenting victims from families across West Africa.

Confidence Omojafor writes from Benin