Where Home Is

Enjoy this interesting piece from a co-cerebrate *smiles*. I love Uyo and she does too but she brings it to better light with great descriptives and vivid symbols if you may. 

By IfiokAbasi Okop

My family moved to Uyo when it was the only green pasture in Akwa Ibom State. I watched Uyo grow from a crawling toddler to a young adult in the eight years the new government ruled. It made a change from just being a state capital to a hub of businesses. The new government surprised Uyo, perhaps because it wanted more and opened up for more. It gave up houses and shops for good roads, gave up land for Ibom Tropicana: the cinema, the E-library and the International Stadium.

Uyo smelt new. The feel of a poor man who knew he was going to get rich one day and when he became rich, made everything about him tastefully exquisite.

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Uyo's roads reeked of bright headlights and streetlights the first night I returned from Nsukka. I smiled and closed my eyes to bask in the warm welcome. It smelt of home; it was home. The streetlights and headlights shone from the flyover to IBB Avenue. The lights in E-library glowed and I made sure I stared at it for the entire time the keke was going to pass by.

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Uyo had major roads which had been there since the early days of the town but Aka Etinan was a growing child with a bright future. It was the road that led to the famous Ibom International Stadium. The road that had the most supermarkets I have ever seen. There were ten of them, or were there twelve? And an important trivia; they were all owned by the Igbos, at least all the ones I have entered.

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I looked at Akpan Andem market again and knew I chose the wrong entrance. The other entrance had traders who did not care if you entered their shop; they were doing very well I supposed. But the traders at this other entrance could throng you if that would make you buy from them.

I looked at the ground as I walked into the market, making sure I stepped on neat places because it had rained earlier that day and the ground was muddy with market dirt. Most traders did not call out to me today and I felt denied of my market rights. I walked a long way with the sound of a woman's voice saying 'e dey kill mosquito well well, e dey kill bedbug, e dey kill rat, e dey kill ant; oya come see as e take dey work' ringing in my ears. A woman with Afang leaves asked me to buy from her and I walked away, silently resenting her and her fellow traders. I entered the meat section of the market and heard a man preaching. I wondered which one was louder, the sound of the knives hitting the meats on the wooden tables or the preacher asking the traders to give their lives to Christ. One trader, called out over the noise in the market, 'mbakara, fine girl. Come buy meat, ' I turned and walked to the front of his stall.

As I walked out of the market, I made a mental note to enter the first keke I saw the driver shout 'Aka Etinan' without asking anyone for directions. The day two keke drivers fought over which keke I would enter, I left some foodstuff on the ground.

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Uyo once had motorcycles as the cheapest means of transportation until the crime rate increased. Then the government banned motorcycles and introduced the tricycles we proudly call keke. The kekes caused a lot of nuisance and have since been banned from some places like the Wellington Bassey Way and the right axis of Plaza.     

I passed by Ikot Ekpene road one day and I heard a man shout 'plasta, plasta, one chanch!' I turned to look at him and realized he did not care if it really meant 'Plaza, Plaza one chance!'

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Ikot Ekpene, the other town in Akwa Ibom that is almost as famous as Uyo never really fascinated me. It was a small unplanned town with a population that seemed to be more than the town could carry. The roads always seemed to have more cars than they were meant for. For one moment, I smiled to myself while wondering how the air got around; I imagined breathing the air used by the person close to me and breathing it out for the next person. The only fascinating thing the town had was the Plaza that young people hung out in. It intrigued me because unlike Uyo's Plaza, nobody sells, takes passports or parks their car there. It is strictly for relaxation. 'The Raffia City', the city's alias is seen in just a small section of the town where almost everything is made with raffia like chairs, purses, slippers and even a lawyer's wig.

My favorite development in Ikot Ekpene apart from the Four Points Sheraton Hotel is the Ikot Ekpene - Abak road which is long, windy and lonely. A ride on it that gives one the feel of being Vin Diesel in the Fast and Furious series.

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My family lived in Ikot Ekpene for a while but I was so little all I could remember was the GRA, where we lived. It was the coolest place to live in Ikot Ekpene at that time, but now, it lives in its past glory but still holds the remnants of Ikot Ekpene's early development.

I now love Ikot Ekpene because it has never tried to be like any other town. It has never envied Uyo and has somehow reveled in its history.

Uyo, on the other hand, has reveled in being the major tourist site in Akwa Ibom State. On Instagram, one user wrote a post and asked people the places they would love to live in. I thought about India, Cuba, Paris and London but I realized home is really where love is and that place is Akwa Ibom for me.

The Author, IFIOKABASI OKOP is a student of the University of Nigeeria, Nsukka where she is studying English and Literary Studies. She is from AkwaIbom State and resides there also. She writes poems for voicesnet.com and poetfreak