Theme: First Harvest, First Voice
Guided by: Pathfinder Card — The Way Forward
Every season begins with a sign. For farmers, it is the sprout that breaks the soil. For a people, it is the first word spoken after silence. For us at BlaccTheddi, it is Ìrì Jí; the New Yam Festival.
We begin here because beginnings matter. A voice that wants to last must be rooted in memory, in ritual, in truth. Ìrì Jí is not just a feast; it is a declaration that a people have survived another cycle of labor and harvest. To eat the first yam is to say, “We are still here. We have endured. We are ready to continue.”
Our editorial rebirth follows the same rhythm. We are not launching with noise or trend. We are launching with yam and voice; the two symbols of survival. Just as yam sustains the body, truth sustains the community. This is why our first word rises with the season of Ìrì Jí.
Why Ìrì Jí?
Ìrì Jí is one of the deepest markers of Igbo life. It is more than food, more than a celebration; it is a ceremony of renewal. Indeed, ji bu eze “yam is king”. It is not an ordinary crop. It is the crop of dignity, survival, and memory. Among the Igbo, no year truly begins until the first yam is harvested and eaten.
The festival carries three strong meanings. First, gratitude; the community pauses to thank God and the ancestors for the harvest. Second, continuity; it marks the bridge between the old season and the new one, ensuring life goes on. Third, community; no one eats yam alone; the sharing of the first yam binds people together in joy and survival.
By beginning with Ìrì Jí, BlaccTheddi ties itself to this rhythm. Just as the Igbo cannot ignore yam when marking time, we cannot ignore our roots when shaping story. Our editorial season must also start with gratitude, continuity, and community.
From Harvest to Voice (The Symbolism)
A yam buried in the soil carries no value until it is unearthed. It must be harvested, lifted into the light, and shared before it fulfills its purpose. In the same way, truth left unspoken is truth wasted. Silence is like leaving the yam underground, it rots unseen.
This is why Ìrì Jí is more than a festival; it is a lesson in voice. The act of harvest is the act of revelation. Each yam pulled from the soil is a reminder that the hidden must be brought into the open. Just as the farmer bends to gather yam, the journalist bends to gather stories. Both know the same truth: if it is not brought out, it cannot feed.
BlaccTheddi begins here because our role is to harvest voice the way our ancestors harvested yam. We dig, we gather, we reveal, and we share. Our commitment is not to bury truth in silence, but to bring it to the people’s table, fresh, sustaining, and communal.
Editorial Rebirth (Why BlaccTheddi Chooses This Beginning)
BlaccTheddi is not a platform for chasing headlines or echoing the noise of the moment. We are a house of memory and meaning. Our choice to begin with Ìrì Jí is deliberate because yam, like truth, is not fast food. It takes patience, care, and labor in the soil before it can nourish a people.
This launch marks our rebirth. Like a new yam breaking through the earth, we rise with fresh strength. Winds & Ways, our first editorial season, is not a random cycle, it is our declaration that every new beginning must be rooted in what is oldest and truest. We stand on tradition, but we move forward with purpose.
Just as yam carries the past season’s labor into the new one, BlaccTheddi carries our community’s memory into the future. To begin with Ìrì Jí is to remind ourselves and our readers that renewal is not noise, it is rooted in soil, sweat, and truth.
The Community Feast
In Igbo land, the New Yam Festival is never a private meal. No one harvests yam and eats it alone. It is a feast where families, neighbors, and strangers gather to break bread together. In that act of sharing, community is renewed, not just the body is fed, but the bond of belonging is strengthened.
The same is true for voice. A story locked in one person’s throat serves no one. Truth must be spoken, heard, and shared. That is why BlaccTheddi does not claim voice as its own. We are a gathering place, a marketplace of words, a communal table where every person brings something and every person receives something.
Our role is not to own the yam but to help serve the meal. Because in the end, voice belongs to the people, and story without community is empty.
Our First Word
Just as yam sustains the body, truth sustains the people. To begin with Ìrì Jí is to anchor ourselves in memory, gratitude, and courage. It is to declare that no movement can thrive without first honoring the soil that feeds it and the voices that shape it.
BlaccTheddi begins here; not with borrowed noise, not with empty slogans, but with the festival that reminds us who we are.
Our first harvest is our first voice. Our first voice is our first stand. And our stand is simple: truth belongs to the people, and silence is no longer an option.
The Igbo say, “Onye ji ji, ji ndụ” he who holds yam, holds life. We extend it further: “Onye ji eziokwu, ji ọdịnihu” he who holds truth, holds the future.
This is our first word. This is our manifesto.
This is why we begin with Ìrì Jí.