By Kevin Lambert and Kevin M. Baerson

This October marked the 18th anniversary of independence for Akwa Ibom state, Nigeria. While eighteen years of sovereignty wouldn’t even fill a page in the historical records of most governments, much of the fiber of Akwa Ibom’s current culture can be traced back far before Nigeria won independence from Britain in 1960.

The seeds of Nigerian independence began to grow almost as soon as the British arrived, and they sprouted in Akwa Ibom earlier than most. In 1923 the Ibibio Union was formed, backed by forward-thinking Africans who wanted a voice in their governance. This led to a solid organization that could help them through the inevitable cultural clashes. In 1929 the British imposed a poll tax on all "natives", and there were strong rumors that women would be taxed. This was, to Africans, unimaginable. There was already tension because the British had imposed (and codified) African women into submissive Victorian roles, which effectively prevented them from performing their normal duties. To pile a tax on top of that was one of the indecencies that even absolute dictators can’t get away with. Akwaibom’s women rioted.

Known to history as the "Women’s Riots," they have been celebrated in painting and poems throughout the land. It is said that they rioted in the nude. "In African culture," says Professor Ime Ikiddeh, "This is the most ominous foe of all. They would reserve that tactic for the gravest issues. It was a very effective weapon. When they went in the nude no man could stand up to them."
No African man, anyway. The British shot 26 women dead in cold blood.
The Ibibio Union, instead of inciting more riots, pushed for a legal solution, and their cries reached the House of Commons. Some of the offending officers were transferred and demoted. None were charged with anything serious. But the crisis passed without further bloodshed. And there was never a tax on women.

In 1938 the Ibibio union raised its own levy, taxing African men to send some promising students abroad, who came back with advanced ideas on agriculture. (One of those selected was the father of the current governor.) "This had never been done before," says Professor Ikiddeh. "It started here. Even the British were full of admiration for the way it was done."

So, some 67 years after the Ibibio Union gained the admiration of the British, the many ethnic groups of a unified Akwa Ibom were treated to a healthy dose of self-admiration. This 18th anniversary was steeped in symbolism and gratification for its decades-long struggles – struggles against foreign rule and struggles against what many would say was insignificance in the Nigerian nation.

But on a hot October day, the celebration was all about the future, with an eye to the past.
Historically underdeveloped, the people of Akwa Ibom had come to accept its role as a backwater state. Lacking much of the access to the modern world that other Nigerian states had, the people of Akwa Ibom state dove deeper and deeper into developing their own culture. Perhaps driven somewhat by angst and lack of alternatives, the varied ethnic groups channeled their energy into developing a mix of song, dance, cuisine and dress that became a catharsis of sorts. The people of Akwa Ibom might not have had much in the material sense, but they could go head-to-head with any state in the country when it came to culture.

But at this most recent anniversary celebration – a week long gala that represented the unique culture of virtually every one of the state’s government districts – attendees and performers alike were not just proud of their village, tribe or district, they were proud for ALL Akwa Ibom.

So with the ebullient African sun setting over Governor Victor Attah’s pride and joy, Ibom Plaza, a European soccer match winding down on the plaza’s Times Square-style jumbotron, and a colorful collection of performances gliding across Ibom Plaza’s amphitheater, Governor Attah beamed like a proud father giving away the bride.

"To say I felt pride, that would be an understatement," Governor Attah said. "It was a sense of fulfillment. A grand sense of fulfillment."