Me and my Carnival Queen |
But the picture
soon began to change when Calabar’s long tree-lined streets opened up to
receive me with the bewitching twinkle of assorted Christmas lights. As the car
heaved up the long, straight road to State Housing, I blinked at the forceful
dazzle of Calabar’s street lights when I remembered that my neighbourhood in
Lagos had been plunged into darkness by a severe power cut for a whole week. I
drew a long breath as I pondered Calabar’s night beauty, wondering if daylight
would reveal her more familiar face.
I woke up to the
chirping of birds from the luxuriant branch of a tree by my hotel window and
became instantly aware of where I was. I hadn’t been woken by a birdsong in
long while. Jogging on the beautifully paved streets of State Housing, what
struck me was the greenness of the surrounding as the sun poked its shy rays
through the leafy canopy overhead. I was impressed by the cleanness of the neighbourhood
and the cloying ambience of its vegetative streets. I loved the seemingly
pristine orderliness which accentuated Calabar’s otherness.
The Government House Choir performing at the Millennium Park |
On Christmas Eve,
the Millennium Park burst wild in a spangle of colours. Amid the twittering
chimes of assorted Christmas lights, a rainbow of voices sprouted with life on
a huge stage to serenade the city and its many wonder-struck seasonal visitors
with songs. It would seem that the Carol Night is probably the most subdued
component of Calabar’s famed Christmas Carnival but even so, it has its own
intricate allure. And I knew that my Christmas would be wonderful when the
night exploded with songs at the Millennium Park as different Choirs competed
amongst themselves for the best performance. I was awe-struck by the depth of
talent on display from the Cross River State Choir. The Choir’s lead singer had
a voice that would make the angels blink in bewilderment. But the real
amazement was the performance of Governor Liyel Imoke and Obioma, his wife. The
couple was among the Government House Choir which turned up delicately spruced
up for the night. The singing contest was between the House of Assembly, the
Local Governments and the Government House. I chuckled when I saw my friend
Christian Ita, the Chief Press Secretary to the Governor, looking dapper in a
tuxedo and grinning with a mischievous glint in his eyes. In all the years I
had known him, I had never heard a hum from Chris. But Calabar’s many unspoken
pleasures had softened him up and turned him into a singer.
It was pleasant to
see Obioma Imoke singing lead while her husband’s booming voice floated atop a
wave of voices into the night. The Choir sounded as though it had gone through
moments of intense rehearsal and I wondered how Governor Imoke could have been
a part of it with the tightness of his schedule. Interestingly, whatever
sacrifices they made seemed to have paid off as their performance on the night
was inch-perfect. I rose from the Carol Night wondering just how different
Calabar was from the rest of Nigeria, how beautiful the choirs sang, how
picturesque the stage looked and how these little things meant so much more
than words could ever say. But I also rose from the performance with a
heightened anticipation of the Carnival; the crown jewel of the Calabar
Christmas Festival.
Approach to the Marina Resort |
After a relatively
quiet Christmas, I spent the Boxing Day at the scenic Marina Resort; a
breath-taking hideaway that nestles at the mouth of the Calabar River. The
resort is a canopy of colours; from the zig-zagging road that slopes all the
way down to the river from the Eastern Naval Command and the ethereal beauties
of the little Tortuga Island where I savoured the peppery taste of barbecued
fish to the magnificent view of the glimmering Calabar River, I felt myself
entranced in a beauty beyond the lame aspirations of polluted beaches of Lagos.
And as I walked down the dimly lighted labyrinths of the Slave Museum, I felt
history tug on the shirtsleeves of my mind. I chuckled when the curator, whose
name I can no longer recall told the story of the famed slave dealer, King Eyo
Honesty, the 18th Century monarch of Creek Town whom he said earned
the name “Honesty” from his fair trade practices with the European slave
masters. His voice hovered over us in the cavernous rooms of the museum like
the vengeful spirit of one of the enslaved ancestors seeking supplication. The
tour was as enlightening as it was saddening.
Stepping out of the
Museum into the warm December sun once again, I stood by the railing and gazed
into the vast expanse of the Calabar River which empties itself into the sea
and wondered how many cruelties the waters of the River had witnessed without
as much as a blink. I left when my eyes stung from gazing too hard and ambled
my way back to an open field where children romped about in play, oblivious of
the hideous stories that lay within the walls of the nearby museum. Although
there was a cinema house close by, I had lost all interest as my mind kept
dredging up images of the manacles and chains I saw in the museum. Later that night, I heard the guttural voice
of King Eyo Honesty welcoming me to his kingdom by the sea. He stretched out a
bronze staff to touch me as he spoke and I screamed in absolute horror and woke
up to realise that I had been dreaming and that it was the day I had waited
for; the Carnival Day.
Pondering the deep secretes of the Calabar River |
Leaving my hotel
room at a quarter past nine, I headed to the take-off point of the Carnival
train. I had been advised that the best thing to do was to get a spot very
close to the take-off point and watch the street party fresh and then return to
my hotel for a little rest before re-joining the party in the stadium at
sunset. But no one warned me of the impending joy that came with witnessing
Africa’s largest street party live. I took a spot opposite De Choice, a popular
quick service restaurant and waited with my phones fully charged to take
photographs of the impending spectacle. I didn’t have long to wait as the
procession began a little after mid-day. Right before my eyes, I saw the
streets of Calabar explode into a rainbow of colours. Young, nubile and
picture-perfect ladies twinkled like sapphire in assorted costumes, flashing
smiles that glowed like full moon. Old and graceful ladies glimmered in gears
that made light of the passage of time. Athletic young dancers flexed their
muscles and gave hints of complicated dance routines that would later flower
into intricate chorography in the late night at the stadium. And the most
pleasant thing of it all, the carnival trains all danced to the throbbing
rhythms of soar away Nigerian music. A set of fleet-footed dancers performed an
astonishing sequence to the tune of Kaycee’s hit song, Pull Over, and the spectators roared in applause. Above us, a
military helicopter hovered, keeping an eye on the procession and providing
rapid response in case of trouble.
Governor Liyel Imoke and wife, Obioma |
I waited for my
moment; the arrival of these other-worldly creatures that seemed perfect in all
physical configuration and broke through the security cordon for a photo shoot.
I encircled one of the finest of the lot and handed my phone to someone to take
a photograph of me and my carnival queen. My queen smiled away as the camera
flash exploded in a brilliant dazzle to trap time. I took in the moment, knowing
there would never be a repeat, wondering if the ancestors of this nubile queen
were shipped from the estuary of Calabar; wondering if King Eyo Honesty made a
good profit from the sale. I smiled as my arm encircled her waist and I thought
to myself, does this one even know or care whether we share the same bloodline?
A performance in the Stadium |
The wild ecstasy on
the streets was nothing to compare to the frenzy in the U. J Esuene Stadium
later that night. The 25,000 capacity stadium was packed beyond capacity as the
city of Calabar and environs emptied itself into the lush-green pitch of the
stadium. It was the grand finale of Africa’s largest street party and no one
wanted to be told the story of what happened. It was at this stage that the
theme of the carnival “Ain’t no Stopping Us” would be interpreted in a dance
after being conceptualized in the costumes and floats witnessed earlier on the
streets. I felt a surge of pride when the former governor of the state, Donald
Duke and his beautiful Onari floated into the stadium on a two-wheel scooter
that looked very much like the ones used by visitors to the Whitehouse in
Washington DC. The stadium throbbed with rapture as debonair Duke and
delectable Onari floated like fairies around the stadium. The carnival trains
soon moved in with fanfare. A major highpoint was the grand entry of ageless
Florence Ita Giwa and her Seagul Band. The Nollywood crew of John Okafor, Nkem
Owoh, Funke Akindele, Tonto Dike and model Uti Nwachukwu drew a loud applause
with their theatrical display. All the carnival bands including Passion 4,
Masta Blasta Band, Seagull Band, Freedom Band and Bayside Band gave a good
account of themselves, interpreting the theme of the carnival. But the night
however belonged to the Masta Blasta Band whose electrifying performance
stripped the audience of all power of speech.
The frightening
thing about Carnival Calabar is its growing acceptance beyond Nigeria and even
outside Africa. Apart from Brazil, Ghana, Egypt and Trinidad and Tobago are all
reported to have joined the fun. The list is expected to grow in the coming
years as media attention grows on the carnival.
The astonishing
thing though is that Calabar and its many revolutionary offerings is the only
proof in Nigeria that government can run a project to a high level of
excellence. In the words of Governor Liyel Imoke, the chief host of the
carnival, “after Nollywood, Carnival Calabar is the highest brand in Africa and
it is unique because unlike others, it is designed, programmed and costumed
through passion and creativity.” Calabar is probably the only idea that any
government in Nigeria has driven with unflagging passion for close to a decade.
It is indeed
fascinating how through raw passion and unrivalled focus, the government of
Cross River State has turned Calabar into one of the few bright spots in
Nigeria’s story of gloom. With a vast
arable land that supports year-round green vegetation, a naturally warm and
peace-loving people and an assortment of natural wonder-places and places of
historical significance, Cross River seems carved out for distinction. Even so,
it took a deep self-knowledge and a near revolutionary vision for Cross River
to stand out among its peers in Nigeria if not Africa. I am told that work has
commenced on the second phase of Tinapa which will see the erection of one of
Africa’s largest conference centres.
Evidently, the
minders of the idea of Calabar have not stopped dreaming while their
contemporaries in most states of the federation are struggling to offer basic
amenities to their people. American poet, Edgar Allan Poe once observed that
“those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who
dream only by night.” It would seem that the government and people of Cross
River State have mastered the art of dreaming by day while their counterparts
in other states of the federation are still busy dreaming at night.