The renewed push for state creation in Nigeria always arrives clothed in the language of development and inclusion. But hidden beneath these noble garments are often the familiar tools of political convenience, elite bargains, and geographic ambiguity.
As Senator Jimoh Ibrahim’s proposal for a ‘Coastal State’ gains traction in the National Assembly, we, the people of Ilaje, must look beyond the tide and ask ourselves a defining question: Are we to drift wherever the waves of political engineering take us, or shall we anchor ourselves in history, culture, and strategic foresight?
For me, and for many who understand the soul of our people, the answer is clear: Ilaje’s most natural and prosperous alignment is not with an experimental ‘Coastal State’ but with our historic and cultural partners—the Ijebu. We are not merely coastal; we are connected—through language, through blood, through trade, and through time.
History Knows Our Story
To imagine a future without consulting our past is to risk building on sand. The historical record is clear and stubborn in its clarity: Ilaje and much of what is now referred to as southern Ondo State were, at various points in colonial history, administered under the Ijebu Native Authority, centered in Ijebu Ode. This was not a colonial anomaly; it was an acknowledgment of an already-existing geopolitical and cultural logic. The British merely followed the riverbanks of trade and kinship that had long flowed between Ilaje and Ijebu lands.
In the pre-colonial era, Ijebu influence shaped the commercial life of coastal territories stretching into present-day Ilaje and Ikale communities. The waterways were not borders—they were bridges. From fishing harbors to forest trails, the rhythm of life harmonized across these regions.
A Shared Language, A Shared Pulse
In the cadence of our conversations, in the songs our mothers sang, in the names we bear, the echo of Ijebu heritage resounds powerfully among Ilaje people. This linguistic kinship is not a trivial detail—it is the deep structure of identity. It is what allows for seamless communication, shared customs, and mutual respect between communities.
By contrast, our current alignment with upland southern Ondo often feels administratively imposed rather than naturally evolved. We have walked long in a political house where the walls speak a different dialect, and the corridors rarely echo our concerns.
A Strategic Alliance for Mutual Flourishing
There is strength in shared aspirations. The Ijebu people have, for decades, mounted a noble and consistent campaign for a state that reflects their identity, history, and development vision. The Ilaje people, in turn, have long sought an arrangement that prioritises their riverine realities, oil-producing status, and infrastructural needs.
Rather than pursue these ambitions in isolation—or settle for a ‘Coastal State’ that risks being an uneasy collection of communities without common cause—we can forge a new path together, one built on decades of mutual engagement and strategic complementarity.
In such a configuration, Ilaje would not be an appendage; we would be co-founders. Ijebu would bring to the table its urban development, historical consciousness, and administrative sophistication. Ilaje would contribute its vast coastline, maritime economy, and resource-rich terrain. This is not a union of convenience, but a deliberate alliance for balanced representation and shared progress.
Let the Name Reflect the People
Let us not be seduced by the simplicity of geography. To name a state ‘Coastal’ is to describe a place, not a people. It is generic. It is cold. It strips identity from those who have nurtured this coastline with sweat and sacrifice. What we seek is not a label, but a legacy.
A state born from the union of Ijebu and Ilaje must bear a name that reflects its dual heritage—a name that tells our children where they come from and where they are going. Such a name would bind our histories together and send a signal to the rest of Nigeria: this is not a boundary drawn by politicians, but a state formed by the people.
Conclusion: Don’t Just Give Us a State. Give Us a Future.
We must resist the temptation to support any arrangement simply because it bears the name ‘coastal’. Not every coastline leads home. The proposed Coastal State may offer a geographical fit, but it lacks the historical soul and political logic that a true partnership demands.
In choosing to stand with Ijebu, we are not rejecting progress—we are embracing a future that is authentically rooted in who we are, where we’ve been, and what we can build together. We are choosing memory over amnesia, strategy over sentiment, and legacy over labels.
If a new state must be created, let it not just be by proximity to the sea, but by proximity of spirit, history, and purpose. That is why Ilaje must align with Ijebu—not just as neighbors, but as equals in shaping a new future.
