Why ban on Ekpo Masquerade is misguided, culturally harmful

By Okon Offiong

The recent directive by Governor Umo Eno, prohibiting Ekpo masquerade activities across Akwa Ibom State, has generated widespread concern among cultural custodians, traditionalists, and lovers of heritage at home and in the diaspora.

More than a mere administrative decision, the ban strikes at the heart of a tradition that predates colonial history and remains central to the cultural identity of the Ibibio, Annang, Oro, Obolo, and other groups.

Would anyone see Ekpo as a pastime? Absolutely not. It is a traditional institution—an essential part of the intangible heritage of Akwa Ibom State. Any attempt to outlaw it entirely, therefore raises serious cultural, legal, and historical questions.

While announcing the ban, the Governor declared: “Let those who want to criticize start writing… There are things I don’t care about. I hold on to my belief and you cannot change it.”

Regrettably, such remarks hardly suggest a leader seeking dialogue or demonstrating sensitivity toward traditional practitioners. Instead, they project an attitude that prioritizes personal belief over the collective cultural identity of the people.

The Governor further stated: “This is a Christian state… keep Ekpo out of Christmas village… we ban Ekpo on our streets.”

However, Akwa Ibom, though religiously vibrant, is constitutionally not a theocratic state. Government decisions must reflect pluralism, not personal creed.

The blanket ban, therefore, appears to sideline rather than protect the rights and sentiments of traditional believers and cultural custodians.

Let us even look away from that angle and focus on the legal and international implications of such government decisions.

There is no ambiguity around the fact that Nigeria’s 1999 Constitution, under Section 21, mandates the state to “protect, preserve, and promote the culture of the people.”
A complete proscription of Ekpo directly contradicts this duty.

Again, regionally, the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights (Article 17) guarantees citizens the right to participate in cultural life.

Moreover, at the international level, UNESCO’s Convention for the Safeguarding of Intangible Cultural Heritage (2003) encourages governments to preserve—note the word preserve, not abolish—ancestral traditions. By these standards, the recent ban not only suppresses cultural identity but also undermines global commitments to heritage protection.

From available commentaries, the ban is one decision that has deeply disappointed those in the diaspora and comes with the potential for significant cultural loss. For decades, festive seasons in Akwa Ibom have been marked by vibrant displays of Ekpo masquerades—an attraction that draws thousands of sons and daughters home during Christmas. To many in the diaspora, Ekpo is an emotional bridge reconnecting them with their roots. The ban is therefore widely seen as a joy-killer, stripping Christmas celebrations of cultural colour, candour, performance, and meaning. At a time when other nations are investing heavily in cultural tourism, Akwa Ibom, with the Governor’s declaration, appears to be moving in the opposite direction.

At this point, what should be considered the real issue, in my opinion, are the criminal elements—not Ekpo masquerades. The government has cited cases of extortion, intimidation, and disruption by individuals hiding under Ekpo attire.

To every fair-minded person, these concerns are valid, but they do not justify abolishing an entire institution.

It is common knowledge that criminal elements, with a high level of atrocious activities, exist in most of our government institutions. Yet society does not advocate for these institutions to be abolished because of a few rogue personnel; instead, it emphasizes punishing offenders and reforming the system.

It is my candid opinion that the same logic should apply to Ekpo.

Those who commit crimes under the guise of masquerade should be identified, arrested, and prosecuted. Their actions should not be used as grounds to exterminate a centuries-old cultural practice.

Rather than a blanket ban, the state should pursue a more constructive approach—through engagement with traditional custodians, regulated performances, and systems that ensure proper identification of authentic Ekpo practitioners.

Furthermore, reforms should be embraced, not eradication. Similar to ongoing discussions on easing bride-price burdens, such measures would address security concerns without harming cultural heritage.

The ban on Ekpo masquerade is not only unnecessary but counterproductive. It conflicts with constitutional obligations, disregards international heritage norms, and undermines the cultural identity of Akwa Ibom people.

Culture is not the enemy. Criminality is. Ekpo does not need abolition; it needs regulation, reform, and protection.

As an advocate for enduring and sustainable heritage, I urge the state government to reconsider this position and embrace a more culturally responsible path.

The outright banning of the Ekpo masquerade is not the solution, and Akwa Ibom deserves better.