OPINION: Our elders say that the cock that crows early does not do so in vain; it knows that dawn rewards the vigilant, while the one that wakes late meets footprints of those who have gone before. It is also said that time is a river that waits for no swimmer, and he who delays must cross with fewer clothes.
It is in this spirit that I return to a prediction I made sometime last year that Governor Umo Eno would emerge as the first Governor in Nigeria to contest an election unopposed. As is customary, when tomorrow whispers through the mouth of today people scoff. Some began scoffing dancing on my facebook wall, attacking with arrows. PDP members. Ordering me to shut it. Their reaction has only confirmed to me today, that the drumbeat of mockery cannot drown the voice of destiny, because though truth might walk slowly, it always arrives on time!
Yesterday, I remarked to a relative of mine over the phone that I sensed that a certain ‘politician’ to be the scout sent ahead of a political caravan, the one to test the ground before a certain elephant steps in. (And pls note there cannot be more than two elephants at a small waterhole, lest the water runs dry). I saw the ‘politician’ as the one who has been sent to knock, to ask whether the compound was at peace, if there was still room.
Among our people, no one enters a house by force when the gatekeeper is still awake. It was, a speculative opinion I gave over the phone. But events have since confirmed I was right. The door has been opened, not by strangers, but by the Landlords, the two Elephants, the Senate President and the Governor. Because only the owners can permit strangers in and those strangers must act like the cock that stands on one feet in a new compound, it cannot start climbing the hens.
We all thought the matter would end there.
Now the cock is pleading for a Kite to be allowed in. That person is none other than a former ‘Governor’. Personally I see no wrong in his entry. Because the stream that has run dry has suddenly remembered its source. A child who travels far must one day greet the ground that warmed him. In time, perhaps in the next few months Akwa Ibom State may yet witness a gathering where father meets son and grandfather meets grandson. Everyone will be happy. Peace and reconciliation at last. But listen my wise grandmother in Afaha Offiong Mma Jenny Nwa Ekwere Ikidte always said; ‘When a wandering goat returns to the pen, it must plead for space among other goats”.
Reunion is sweet, but rearranging the pen, will cost Akwa Ibom political class several packets of Panadol. That is the looming headache many are whispering in hush tones.
Permit me an illustration from my heady student days at UNICAL. When we held house parties we use to popularly call ‘Ebo’ in those days, clear instructions were given to the bouncers: no entry except one is with an invitation card, a house without rules soon becomes a marketplace. Yet there was always that one who would come knocking and when you looked outside the window you discovered it was your roommate. The sign would be given to the burly bouncer; the door would open. But as it so often happens your roommate, would stand pleading by the door for his classsmate to be allowed in. They say the man you pull from the river will ask you to save his brother.
The rules were firm, all seats have been taken because a calabash filled to the brim does not ask for more water. You would tell your roommate if his classmates was willing to stand, he could come in. But he was not to fight for seats with those who arrived earlier. Even the friend who came late would stand, for no one who arrives after the masquerade begins to dance chooses the drums. By the time gatecrashers arrive they must understand, the food and drinks are finished. Latecomers have to make do with what remains because they arrived after the cooking pot had cooled. And as our people say, he who comes late eats the bones, not the meat. They cannot contend for food, drink, or attention with those who had been present from the beginning. The original guests had special invitations by the celebrant, for the tree that endures the morning sun claims the deepest shade at noon.
This, in truth, is the matter before APC Akwa Ibom State today, the drum has changed rhythm, the dancers must pause to listen.
Today, within the Party, there exist three distinct grades of politicians, just as in every compound there are those who arrived at dawn, those who came before noon, and those who reached the gate at sunset. Not all who sleep in the same house share the same story how they arrived.
The First Grade are those who left the PDP alongside the Senate President in 2018. In those days, they were treated like lepers. They were called Almajrees. They even accused them of coming with a Fulani jihadist agenda to handover Akwa Ibom State to the North. There was no humiliation they didn’t suffer. They were avoided, whispered upon, and pointed at from afar. But these were the ones with the SP who crossed the river when the water was freeszing cold. Today, the same people sit with the SP at the table with gold cards. They were the ones who entered the forest first who cleared the path for others, removed the thorns from wounding those who would follow.
The Second Grade are those who departed the PDP with Pastor Umo Eno in 2025, when the elders of the land placed a gold card in his hand and made him a Landlord. He did not walk alone; because the tortoise does not journey without his shell. He moved with people who trusted him. People who loved him, people who believed in the APC vision for the State. But the Governor suffered much. He was called betrayer, an ingrate and a traitor, yet he stood firm. The rain did beat him and his followers but they refused to dissolve. Though they once held silver cards, full integration has now crowned them with gold cards. For the child who endures beating eventually eats from the big pot.
The Third Grade, now emerging, are the prodigal ones. Like the ancient story, they have learned that home, even with its rules, is better than freedom among beasts. These ones have roamed across many dry waterless places where they saw lizards nod in hunger and cockroaches became their delicacies in the PDP. They found no place to rest their feet. They say a traveller who mocks his father’s house soon learns humility on the road. That is their story. They now understand that not leaving with Governor Umo Eno was a costly misjudgment one that has threatened their political relevance both in Akwa Ibom and at the centre.
Yet the home to which they seek to return is already full. The rooms are occupied. The seats are taken. A full compound does not stretch itself because a latecomer has arrived. Names are already written on doors; locks are already fastened. What has been tied with rope cannot be loosened with a mere wish.
This 2026 returnees cannot comport themselves as lords. They hold bronze cards. The man who comes late to the wrestling arena does not choose the referee. He must stand and clap for the gladiators. He must know his place.
Many were humiliated in 2018 and 2019. The Senate President was robbed by political highway robbers. Many were demonized in 2025, it became personal, even the Governor’s family came under attack. A video went viral. All to cause maximum pain.
But all is now forgiven. Apologies are ointments that heal both flesh and bone. And the wounded must receive these apologies with grace, to dry ulcers and allow for healing to begin.
But while healing endures, the body must not suffer or be ignored.
The 2018 and 2025 sets are only now settling in, like palm wine that has finally stopped fermenting, they were just learning to trust one another and find balance within the Party. Suddenly, a new influx is arriving in 2026. And this group is accustomed to the high table. They are used to first choice, to command, to decision making, to chieftaincy. They are people who speak before elders finish speaking. They will have to understand that they are guests for now and in every house there are rules.
Their entrance has caused disquiet and commotion. For when too many chiefs arrive in one compound, the talking drum loses its rhythm. And as the elders caution: a house does not collapse because of strangers, but because those inside forget who laid the foundation. Akpabio and Umo Eno have laid the foundation.
Those who were in the house before them are now double locking their doors, not out of malice, but out of what they suffered. A man who has once been bitten by a snake fears even the movement of a rope. They carry battle scars on their backs and on their names. Because they endured seasons of hunger, ridicule, and isolation. The wounds of yesterday are the teachers of today. And now the latecomers will want to sit at the head of the table? Really!? Our elders have always said: “Can the man who arrives after the meal begin to dictate where the guests should sit?”
In my student days, any latecomer who attempted to seize control of the party was swiftly escorted out by the bouncers. A stranger does not rearrange the shrine he did not build.
With less than twelve months to the 2027 elections, no one is giving up his or her room. The man who has finally found shade does not step back into the sun. The original guests will not surrender their seats. This I am certain. A seat earned through pain is not surrendered through sentiment.
In the absence of rooms, the late arrivals must make do with the parlour until after 2027. When rooms are full, the parlour veranda must suffice. Reality and humility must prevail. No one will vacate their space. And when food is served, they cannot seize the spoon to serve themselves; the hand that did not stir the pot does not control the soup. They must wait their turn at the back of the line. For even in the sharing of kola, seniority speaks before one’s appetite.
After the 2027 elections, everyone’s tenancy will expire. The landlords, the Senate President and the Governor will renovate the house. All tenants, whether in rooms or in the parlour, will be asked to vacate. A notice for new tenants pasted on the door. And if you can pay the new rent, a room will be allocated. At that time, the 2026 set will stand on equal footing with the 2018 and 2025 tenants. When the mat is rolled away, all feet touch the same floor. All will be equal. For time is the great leveller of men. The tallest palm tree bows when the wind of time and season changes.
But any attempt by the 2026 set, to forcibly occupy rooms already held by others will provoke the inevitable cry: “Idoho mma bo!?” For one does not uproot another man’s yam when one arrived late to the farm. No room is for sale, unless expressly released by the landlords, the two elephants themselves, the Governor and the Senate President. Because only the owners of the compound can reallocate the huts.
One thing, however, is certain the PDP has withered as a political force in Akwa Ibom State. It’s a tree that has lost its roots, it no longer bears fruit. And the Senate President and Governor Umo Eno are walking into 2027 unopposed.
For this, I congratulate them both. For wisemen know: when order is respected, peace sleeps in a compound; but when hierarchy is ignored, confusion beats the drum. And when the drumbeat is wrong, even the dancers stumble.
And so, let it be said that Akwa Ibom State is rewriting the political history of Nigeria not with the noise of quarrels and attacks but with the quiet authority of wisdom. Because when brothers lay down their weapons, even the forest becomes a palace. What force could not achieve, Governor Umo and Senate President Godswill Akpabio have achieved with understanding, patience and trust. The elders teach that when the left hand washes the right, and the right washes the left, both become clean. Today, old enemies sit under one roof, not because wounds have been forgotten, but because the future has been chosen over bitterness. The river that once overflowed its banks now knows its course. Let it be remembered that peace is not the absence of disagreement, but it’s its agreement to protect the Akwa Ibom compound. For when the roof is leaking, no one argues about whose mat gets wet; all hands move to save the house. Political reconciliation is not weakness it is the wisdom of those who know that a house divided feeds the wind, not its children. Akwa Ibom State has chosen the higher road. When the elders agree, masquerades dance in harmony. Today the drums are now tuned to one rhythm, the dancers move as one body, and the spectators fall silent in awe. This is not the peace of the fearful but the peace of those that understand that unity can touch the fringes of heaven like the Tower of Babel.
And so, as our ancestors would conclude:
when the road is cleared of stones, even rivals walk it side by side. When the pot is placed on the fire together, no one tips it over.
May this reconciliation endure.
May this peace hold.
And may history record that Akwa Ibom State did not merely win an election in 2027, it won itself.
Ata Ikiddeh
