REJOINDER TO IORLIAM SHIJA:
A Historical and Logical Defense of Gwer as a Distinct Power Bloc in Tivland
By John Ajai
Iorliam Shija’s recent post, “Tiv Power Blocs and the Gwer Debate,” presents a compelling case against recognising Gwer as a distinct political bloc within Tivland. His position is clear: such a move would fragment Tiv unity, disrupt established zoning formulas, and potentially destabilise long-standing political arrangements.
But while this concern for cohesion is valid, the conclusions drawn from it are not. Shija’s argument leans heavily on a reading of history and political logic that overlooks how Tiv political structures have always adapted to new realities, culturally, legally, and demographically.
This debate deserves clarity. Gwer is not an invention of political ambition. It is a long-standing community with a distinct cultural, administrative, and demographic identity. Recognising it as a bloc does not undermine Tiv unity; instead, it honours the principles of fairness and inclusion that have sustained that unity for decades.
1. Tiv Power Blocs Were Created—Not Inherited
Much of the pushback against Gwer’s recognition rests on the assumption that the current five-bloc structure—Jechira, Kwande, Sankera, Jemgbagh, and MINDA, is some ancestral inheritance. It is not. The Tiv society before colonialism was decentralised. Power was diffused through kinship and clan networks. There were no blocs. The idea of a singular political centre, let alone a rotation system among “blocs,” only emerged after colonial authorities introduced the Tor Tiv stool in 1946 to streamline governance.
The five-bloc model we know today did not emerge from tradition; it was crafted by elites through negotiation to organise power more efficiently within a changing political landscape. If it was once revised to fit those times, it can be revised again to reflect today’s realities. Change is not betrayal. In Tivland, it has often been the path to stability.
2. Gwer Has Long Stood on Its Own—In Tradition and Law
It is not accurate to claim that Gwer has always been just a part of MINDA. The historical record shows otherwise. As far back as the 1970s, Tor Tiv Akperan Orshi acknowledged the internal diversity within the Abinsi area (known as MINDA) by separating it into administrative zones, one led by Gwer leaders and the other by leaders from Guma and Makurdi.
That recognition deepened in 2015, when the Benue State House of Assembly passed a law creating intermediate traditional councils. Among them were Tor Gwer and Tor Lobi, each with its jurisdiction. This wasn’t symbolic. It was a legal move grounded in cultural reality. And when Governor Ortom installed Julius Aondona Adaga as Tor Gwer in 2016, it was a public confirmation of something the community already knew: Gwer is a distinct unit, with its voice and leadership.
So, the question is not whether Gwer can stand as a bloc. It already does, in the eyes of tradition, in the law, and in practice. To deny this is to ignore decades of administrative development that have recognised Gwer’s individuality.
3. Gwer Has the Numbers, the Voice, and the Record
Gwer-East and Gwer-West are not fringe players. Together, they form a sizable portion of Benue State’s population and voting base. They match or exceed other recognised blocs in demographic weight, and their contributions to governance, locally and nationally, are well established.
It is often said that Gwer has already “had its turn” because Governor Ortom comes from MINDA. But Ortom is from the Nongov section of Lobi, not from Gwer. That distinction matters. If rotational justice means anything, it must go beyond the façade of bloc inclusion and ensure that all major communities actually get a turn, not just in name, but in fact. Gwer has never produced a governor. By every reasonable standard of equity, it is due.
4. Fear of Fragmentation Shouldn’t be a Barrier to Justice
Shija argues that recognising Gwer will open the floodgates, that if one subgroup is recognised, others will demand the same. This is the classic slippery slope argument. But it assumes that bloc recognition is some free-for-all, when in fact it is governed by law and precedent.
The 2015 Chieftaincy Law outlines the process by which new councils, and, by extension, blocs, are created. Not every group qualifies, and not every demand is valid. But Gwer’s case stands on firm ground: culturally distinct, administratively acknowledged, demographically significant, and historically recognised.
This is not a chaotic break from order. It is how Tivland has continually evolved, step by step, issue by issue, community by community.
5. Inclusion is what holds us together
The fear that recognising Gwer will divide Tivland misses a more profound truth. Exclusion, not inclusion, is what breeds division. The Tiv system of rotational politics has always worked best when every group feels seen and heard. When people are told to wait endlessly or accept partial representation as “good enough,” resentment grows, and with it, instability.
Recognising Gwer would not weaken the bloc system, but rather, strengthen it. It would demonstrate that Tivland remains capable of adapting with fairness and unity. It would affirm the principle that every group matters, not just when convenient, but when it truly counts.
Conclusion
The Tiv bloc arrangement was built, not inherited. It has changed before and can change again. Gwer’s quest for recognition is not an act of rebellion. It is an affirmation of the very ideals that built Tiv unity in the first place: negotiation, inclusion, and fairness.
Now is not the time to cling to outdated formulas that no longer reflect the realities on the ground. Now is the time to do what Tiv people have always done best: adjust the system, not to serve a few, but to reflect all. Gwer deserves its place, not at the margins of MINDA, but as a whole and equal bloc in Tivland.
