Street begging, Igbo nation: When did we learn the habit

POINTBLANK With
Smart Emmanuel
09066642354

Our Igbo proverb quotes “Where a child gets his mouth oily, that is where he hangs out”. As ndi Igbo, we are known for hard work because it’s where we get our mouth oily and not street begging.

Street begging has never been the way of ndi Igbo. Our ancestors were renowned for their industry, resilience, and business acumen. From generation to generation, the Igbo have been celebrated across Nigeria, and indeed Africa, for their determination to work hard and create wealth.

It is therefore painful to witness a rising culture of street begging among some of our people today. One cannot help but ask: Where, when, and how did we learn this?

Yesteryears, Igbo families raised their children on the solid foundation of skill and enterprise. At tender ages, boys and girls were apprenticed to artisans, traders, and craftsmen.

The legendary “Igba Boi” system, where a young person serves a master for several years before being settled with capital, stood as a model of communal empowerment. It ensured that no one remained idle and that every child learned to earn an honest living. Hard work was our pride, not only a necessity.

Mothers and fathers alike believed in shaping children who could fend for themselves and support the family. This tradition created generations of independent-minded entrepreneurs, from roadside mechanics to global industrialists. The Igbo spirit was defined by perseverance and innovation, not by waiting for handouts.

Sadly, the narrative is changing before our eyes. In recent years, some Igbo youths, and even entire families, have abandoned the culture of industry. Instead of learning a trade or pursuing a craft, some children now roam the streets, bowls in hand, pleading for alms. It is disheartening to watch mothers move from street to street with their children, begging. By doing so, they unwittingly teach these children that idleness pays, exposing them to danger and eroding the dignity our people once cherished.

This trend did not arise overnight. Economic hardship, rising unemployment, and the erosion of communal mentorship all play a role. But hardship alone does not explain the growing willingness to beg. For generations, our people faced poverty and war, yet they chose enterprise over idleness. Something deeper, perhaps a shift in values, has taken root.

Today’s street begging often comes with sophisticated tricks. I recently went to buy fuel when a woman approached me with a dramatic story, pleading that I buy her kerosene. I politely declined, sensing her motive. Moments later, another car arrived; she repeated the tale, and the man gave her money. I watched as she quietly pocketed the cash and resumed her hunt for the next “donor,” without buying any kerosene at all. Was she truly in need, or had begging become her chosen trade?

Such encounters reveal a troubling reality: for some, begging has turned into a business. It is no longer about survival; it is a calculated means of earning. When idleness becomes profitable, laziness soon becomes a norm.

Sincerely, our Parents, especially mothers, must reclaim their responsibility. No economic situation justifies grooming children into street beggars. Children must be guided toward education, skill acquisition, and honest work. Communities, too, must revive the mentoring spirit of the Igba Boi system, helping youths learn trades, sponsoring apprenticeships, and rewarding diligence.

Religious institutions and cultural associations can also help. Instead of indiscriminate handouts, churches and town unions should invest in skill training, microcredit schemes, and mentorship programs. Giving money on the street may provide momentary relief, but it often sustains a harmful cycle.

This is not to say we should harden our hearts against genuine need. Compassion remains a virtue. But we must be discerning. If someone truly lacks food, let us pay a food vendor to provide a meal rather than hand over cash. Let us channel our help toward hospital patients who cannot afford treatment, struggling hawkers who are clearly working, or widows striving to raise their children. These are people fighting to survive, not those turning idleness into an occupation.

Will we allow the creeping culture of begging to define us, or will we return to our heritage of dignity and hard work? Our future depends on the answer. Every time we reward idleness with easy money, we send the wrong message to our children. Every time we celebrate skill and perseverance, we strengthen the values that built our communities.

Street begging is not in our blood. It is an imported habit, a departure from the proud tradition of self-reliance that once made the Igbo a beacon of enterprise. To protect that heritage, we must resist the temptation to encourage beggars who treat begging as a profession. Instead, let us revive the apprenticeship system, support small businesses, and honour those who labour with their hands.

The time has come to discourage street begging firmly and consistently. We must replace the culture of handouts with the culture of hard work. The Igbo have always been known for industry, creativity, and an indomitable will to succeed. That spirit still lives in us, but it needs to be rekindled. By guiding our children, supporting genuine need, and celebrating honest labour, we can ensure that the name “Igbo” remains synonymous with enterprise, not with begging on the streets.