Eyo Exposed: Lagos’ Masquerade of Culture and Conflict?

Imagine this: a Lagos street alive with drummers, their rhythms hypnotic, white-robed Eyo masquerades gliding past, sticks raised, hats bobbing, and ceremonial chants echoing through the crowd. It’s the pride of a city, a living tradition that draws both locals and tourists alike.

But then, reality bends. Chants give way to shouting. One masquerade swings a stick at an overzealous spectator. Another, clearly tipsy, lashes out at a fellow performer. On the sidelines, a scuffle breaks out between rival Eyo groups. The spectacle meant to embody elegance and cultural heritage edges toward chaos.

It’s impossible not to notice the echoes of Lagos on screen, yes, even in Gangs of Lagos. The film enraged some for depicting Eyo masquerades as symbols of street-level violence. Yet, here’s the thing: should cinema shoulder the blame for revealing what already exists in glimpses? When snippets of the festival show masked figures in fights, drunken brawls, or clashes between Eyo factions, isn’t it worth asking: why are we ignoring these cracks in the façade of tradition?

Here’s the thing. The Eyo festival is a cultural jewel. It celebrates the passing of Lagos’ Oba, honours historical legacies, and carries centuries of ritual weight. But it’s also happening in a city where streets are crowded, alcohol flows, tensions simmer, and sometimes, yes, violence spills over. This doesn’t make Eyo inherently “gang-like,” but it does mean that, in practice, things aren’t always pristine.

Lagos is often misrepresented, whether by films, media, or outsider eyes. Yet even locals sometimes fail to address these moments of disorder. Are the elders doing enough to enforce the codes of conduct? Shouldn’t respect for culture include protecting it from its own excesses?

And here’s the core of the story: acknowledging the flaws doesn’t diminish the beauty. The drumbeats, the ceremonial hats, the history, they still matter. But we have to talk about what happens when those hats hit someone in a scuffle, or when the festival’s energy turns dangerous. Real stories, messy and human, resonate. They generate conversation. They demand accountability.

So, Lagos, let’s celebrate Eyo without romanticizing it. Let’s teach respect for tradition and responsibility for behaviour. Let’s hold elders, festival organizers, and even participants to the high standard the festival deserves. This isn’t about shame, it’s about evolution.

Because culture isn’t static. Heritage isn’t perfect. And if we want Lagos to be respected, we have to be honest about it, all of it: the pomp, the pageantry, and yes, the problems.

Hegemonic Political Godfatherism – Dr Kenny Odugbemi