What an elder statesman told me about Umo Eno on Ibom Air flight to Abuja

By Emmanuel Nicholas

Akwa Ibom stands at a crossroads. The doubt that once trailed Governor Umo Eno is quietly giving way to something else. Something people are not yet saying aloud.

I was on my way to Abuja when fate made the seating arrangement. Beside me sat an elder of our land.

A former Commissioner under Obong Victor Attah. A man whose years in council had taught him to read a government long before the rest of us did. I greeted him with the respect his stature commanded, not knowing what he would say next.

We traded pleasantries until the cabin sign dimmed. I reached for my iPad. Flying has never been my friend, and writing keeps the worst thoughts grounded.

He watched me for a while, then asked a question that shifted the flight. “Are you the popular White Bom?”
“Yes, sir.”

He smiled, almost to himself. “I didn’t know the face behind the name. You write well.”

That was the last of the courtesies. What followed was an interrogation. Not of me, but of the Governor’s record. His voice was measured, like a man laying evidence on a table.

“When Umo Eno became Governor, I doubted him,” he said. Pause. “By my own assessment, I did not think he had the capacity he is showing now.”

I waited. He did not rush.

“Why the change?” I asked.

“Because Abuja is talking,” he replied. His eyes did not blink. “Outside Akwa Ibom, even those who are not our own will defend him. Tell a stranger he has failed, and the stranger will tell you to stop.

They see a man managing resources. Debts paid. First term nearly done, and not one kobo borrowed. Tell me, which Governor before him has that record?”

The cabin went quiet for a moment, even with the engines roaring.

Then he turned to Oro, to the Deep Sea Port, and to a future many are afraid to name yet. “My mother is from Okobo. Even within Oro, some argue Okobo is Ibibio. Let the Governor proceed. The same voices crucifying him today will be the first to work at the port when it rises.”

He leaned closer. His voice dropped, but the weight increased. “In the next five years, Akwa Ibom will become a destination. Seventeen foreign firms are positioning to invest billions in the Oil and Gas Free Trade Zone. My brother… our State is the next destination .”

I thought I had heard the headline. I hadn’t.

“BUA Refinery is nearing completion. Sterling Global Petrochemical and Fertilizer is advancing. New oil rigs are being built.

Three marine companies will build ships, boats, and the systems that run them. Sterling has already built a mini-port for its vessels. The Federal Government has approved a private cargo airport inside the Zone.”

I could feel the scale of it before I could say the word “jobs.” He saw it on my face and nodded.

“I came into town with some real Estate investors, they are planning to build 100 units of houses in the oil and gas free trade zone, so that the workers can take advantage, He I nformed me.

“And the Governor is opening access,” he continued. “Dualize the roads to Okobo, Oron, Mbo, Eastern Obolo, and the port will rise faster than anyone expects. Any serious investor asks about access first.

Tell him I commend the dual carriageway to eastern Obolo: they never had a good road. Hope Sterling Global to stand with the State to fund that milestone.”

“We used to chase investors,” he said, almost smiling now. “Now they are here. And he is building the places they will want to stay. Tourist hubs. So they will not work in Akwa Ibom and spend their weekends in Lagos.”

Then he spoke of the Ibom International Hotel and the 5,000-capacity Conference Centre. “Many would have abandoned it for their own monuments. We never had a hall for two hundred. Now we have one for five thousand. International conferences are coming for these firms. I am impressed.”

And then, the detail that broke his skepticism completely.

“The Arise Palm Resort.” He said it slowly. “I had not seen it until this trip. Yesterday I went. A former refuse dump… now a resort? I sent pictures to my children abroad. When I told them where it stands, they did not believe me. To see vision in a place everyone had written off… that is not common, it is uncommon leadership, Umo Eno is providing .”

His tone softened. “Most importantly to me, White, is reconciliation. Elders who withdrew from State events are returning.

I have seen Governor Umo Eno beside Senate President Godswill Akpabio, working together without rancor; it pleases me so much. In the North and South West, they name him among the most well-behaved Governors. Grounded. Respectful of elders.”

He told me of Lagos Airport. The Governor spotted him, walked to embrace him, and insisted on paying for his ticket. “Some in the office will not even greet you,” he said. His voice thickened. “My son, I believe God favors Akwa Ibom. He keeps sending us builders. Umo Eno is exceptional.”

“In my village,” he said last, “I saw a widow in a wretched shelter. Today she lives in a beautiful home. Courtesy of the Governor. She is over seventy. He gave her twenty more years. Only a compassionate leader does that.”

By the time Ibom Air touched down in Abuja, I was no longer thinking about the flight. I helped him with his bags, got him a taxi, and we exchanged numbers. And promised, we will meet again.

As I walked away, one proverb kept repeating in my head: “Se afo ado, idung ediongo; se afo anam, idung ekid”

“When the elders speak, the children listen; when the children act, the elders are vindicated.”

And on that flight, I heard an elder speak. What the children do next… will tell the rest of the story.