What Detribalised Really Means for Nigerians

“Ah, that man is very detribalised.”

In Nigeria, we often use this as a compliment.

We say it about the politician with friends from all over the country. We use it for the businessman whose boardroom reflects Nigeria’s diversity. We say it for the public servant who hires people from various backgrounds. It also applies to the man who marries a woman from another ethnic group. He enjoys every Nigerian dish, speaks several languages, and feels comfortable anywhere in Nigeria.

We praise him, saying he is so detribalised.

But detribalised does not mean any of those things.

The Cambridge Dictionary defines detribalise as “to make members of a tribe stop following their traditional customs or social structure.” I checked, and no dictionary captures the meaning Nigerians give to it.

Simply put, it describes how a person or community becomes disconnected from its customs and social structures. In colonial Africa, European officials used “detribalisation” to talk about Western education and Africans who no longer fit into the social systems set by colonial authorities.

In Nigeria, the British called educated Nigerians, including descendants of enslaved Africans and those influenced by early Christian missionaries, “detribalised natives.” Even if a Nigerian became educated and Westernised, he was still seen as a native.

At some point, we turned this word into a compliment. Recently, Senate President Godswill Akpabio, while mourning the late Alhaji Bamanga Tukur, used it. He described Tukur as “a detribalised Nigerian, great patriot and towering national figure whose contributions to the country transcended ethnic and political boundaries.” This was meant as praise.

We also need to be careful with the word tribe. We often use it in Nigeria to describe Yoruba, Igbo, Hausa, Tiv, Ijaw, Efik, Kanuri, and many more. But tribe is not an accurate term for what we mean. These groups are peoples and ethnic communities with their own languages, histories, political traditions, religions, social institutions, and internal differences. Many have several subgroups with their own identities. I think “ethnicity” is a better term.

There is also the oddity of singing “Though tribe and tongue may differ, / In brotherhood, we stand” in our national anthem. I understand the colonial anthem tries to speak about national unity despite our language and ethnic differences. The contradiction is that we still use “tribe” as a quick way to refer to ethnicity in 2026.

When we look closely at the word, our Nigerian use of detribalised seems strange. British indirect rule relied on chiefs and traditional authorities. At the same time, urbanisation and Western education produced Africans who did not fit easily into those structures. Detribalised came from a time when Europeans decided what was “tribal,” what was “modern,” and how Africans moving between those two worlds should be viewed.

We have carried this word long after the colonisers left.

To most of us, even the highly educated, a Nigerian is “detribalised” if he can relate to people outside his ethnic group. But notice what the word really means: The admirable Nigerian is someone who is detached from his own identity!

The idea behind this is even stranger. Knowing less about your own history does not make you wiser. Understanding another culture does not mean you must distance yourself from your own. Our former colonisers should not be the ones to decide what is sophisticated or moral. That is a topic for another day. For now, let us focus on detribalisation.

We have taken tolerance and called it detribalisation. We have taken broadmindedness and called it detribalisation. We have taken the simple ability to see another Nigerian as an equal and given it a term that suggests losing one's own identity.

Because we have not examined this word closely, very few people notice the contradiction. The word has taken on a meaning that is completely different from its original.

So here is a small suggestion: Can we say what we really mean?

If someone does not discriminate against Nigerians from other ethnic groups, let’s say so. If he has friends from all over, let’s say that too. If he believes Nigeria belongs to all of us, let’s say it. If he can be proudly Yoruba, Igbo, Hausa, Ijaw, Tiv, or whatever else, without thinking his identity makes him better than anyone else, let’s say that as well.

Maybe the ideal is not the “detribalised” Nigerian, but the Nigerian who is proud of who he is and makes space for those from elsewhere.