More than five decades after the Nigerian Civil War ended in 1970, Eastern Nigeria remains a stark reminder of unfulfilled promises and systemic neglect. General Yakubu Gowon’s much-publicized policy of Reconciliation, Reconstruction, and Rehabilitation (the “3 Rs”) has proven to be little more than empty rhetoric, with no tangible impact on the region’s recovery. While the rest of the country has moved forward, the East has been left behind, its war wounds still visible in crumbling roads, underfunded schools, and economic stagnation. The Nigerian government, despite multiple pronouncements, has failed to implement the large-scale rehabilitation and reintegration programs necessary to mend the physical and psychological scars of the war.
The Nigerian Air Force, with assistance from foreign allies, subjected Eastern Nigeria to relentless bombardment throughout the war. Cities, towns, and villages were reduced to rubble. Critical infrastructure—hospitals, markets, schools, and roads—were either completely destroyed or severely damaged. Yet, more than 50 years later, there is little evidence that the Federal Government made any substantial effort to repair, rehabilitate, or replace these facilities. Hospitals that once served as lifelines for war-ravaged communities have been left in dilapidated states, forcing many to seek medical attention in substandard conditions. Schools that were turned into makeshift refugee camps during the war were never properly restored, leaving generations of students without access to quality education. Roads and bridges that were bombed to cripple the region’s wartime supply lines remained neglected long after the guns fell silent, turning into impassable death traps.
Despite various announcements over the years about federal intervention, the reality on the ground tells a different story. In 2018, the Nigerian government claimed that 69 projects were ongoing in the South-East, including the rehabilitation of the Enugu-Port Harcourt Dual Carriageway and the Onitsha-Enugu Expressway. However, many of these projects either stalled due to inadequate funding or suffered from endless delays, leaving the region in a perpetual state of infrastructural decay. The disparity between the promises made by successive administrations and the lived reality of Eastern Nigeria raises a fundamental question: Was the post-war reconstruction ever a genuine priority, or was it merely a public relations exercise to placate a devastated people?
One of the most devastating consequences of the war was the disruption of education in Eastern Nigeria. For over three years, children in the region were deprived of formal schooling. Many emerged from the war malnourished, psychologically scarred, and educationally stunted. Yet, despite the obvious need for urgent educational rehabilitation, there was no structured federal intervention to help these children catch up. Unlike post-war recovery efforts in other countries, where governments implement aggressive policies to bridge educational gaps, Nigeria offered no such lifeline. No mass literacy programs, no special scholarships, no well-funded federal initiatives to reintegrate children back into the education system. The result was a generational setback that continues to impact the region’s socio-economic standing today.
The war not only destroyed lives and infrastructure but also wiped out the economic standing of millions of Easterners. At the end of the conflict, many who had held government jobs before the war found themselves permanently displaced. Businesses that had been thriving before the war were left in ruins, with no federal assistance to help them rebuild. Despite Nigeria’s vast oil wealth, successive governments failed to implement any serious post-war economic empowerment programs for the East. There was no federal policy to reintegrate war-displaced workers, no structured financial aid to rebuild lost businesses, and no direct economic intervention to revitalize the region’s economy. Instead, policies like the infamous Twenty Pounds Policy—which reduced all Biafran bank accounts to a mere £20, regardless of prior balances—ensured that Easterners were left in financial ruin. At the same time, lucrative industries and contracts were handed to individuals and businesses from other regions, further deepening the economic divide.
Gowon’s post-war rhetoric emphasized unity, but the lived experience of many Easterners told a different story. The lack of visible federal presence in the region, coupled with the absence of meaningful post-war rehabilitation, cemented the perception that the East was being punished for its role in the conflict. Over the years, this marginalization has taken many forms—underrepresentation in key government appointments, neglect of critical infrastructure, and economic policies that favor other regions. Even when projects are announced, they often remain on paper or suffer from deliberate bureaucratic delays. The Eastern region continues to bear the economic and political consequences of the war, with the ghost of Biafra lingering in the consciousness of its people. The grievances born out of the post-war neglect have fueled calls for greater regional autonomy and, in some cases, a resurgence of secessionist sentiments. These agitations are not merely ideological; they are rooted in the historical injustices that have yet to be addressed.
General Yakubu Gowon and his contemporaries owe the Nigerian people, especially Easterners, a transparent account of what happened to the promised post-war reconstruction. If indeed the federal government invested in the rehabilitation of the East, where is the evidence? Where are the rebuilt hospitals, the thriving educational institutions, the federal industries meant to reintegrate war victims, the well-maintained roads and bridges? Where are the records of Easterners who lost their jobs due to the war being reabsorbed into the system? Where is the proof that the East was ever treated as an equal partner in Nigeria’s post-war development? The answers to these questions remain elusive, hidden behind decades of political whitewashing and historical revisionism. But the reality is clear: the “3 Rs” were an illusion, a carefully crafted narrative that concealed the truth—that Eastern Nigeria was left to pick up its own broken pieces.
The time has come for Nigeria to confront its post-war failures honestly. The government must acknowledge and address the long-standing grievances of the Eastern region. True national unity cannot be built on the foundation of historical denial and continued marginalization. A genuine commitment to reconstruction and rehabilitation is long overdue. The scars of the war cannot be erased, but justice and fairness can help heal them. Eastern Nigeria deserves more than empty promises—it deserves action. If the Nigerian state truly believes in unity, then it must prove it with concrete policies that correct the injustices of the past.
The echoes of war may have faded, but the wounds remain open. Only truth, accountability, and genuine efforts at equitable development can finally close them.
