Omor’mo!

Long before I ever understood the culture, I learned to be proud of my heritage and to cherish the blessedness of my existence as an Omor’mor.

Umor wo den!

And before school taught me, the streets of Ugep knew our place on the map of the world. They told us Ugep was the biggest village in West Africa. That we built our community long before government involvement. That our women took the front seats and spearheaded civilisation and development.So, I grew up knowing that I was an Omormor, a walking success from a rich culture that honours and preserves the sacrifices of women in its development.

History tells that Ugep was the name plastered on us by the British, who struggled with pronouncing Umor or Umor Otutu. They arrived in the 20th century with the introduction of the church, and till date, the town is known by its mispronounced version. But the indigene still calls the town by its original name.

I call the town Umor Omon! Our Umor.Because the spirit of oneness is strong, held together like a bunch of broomsticks.I like to think this deep love shared among us is because a mother welcomed us to the land.

Maesakpa.

When a woman loves, she does so with the tenderness of her breast and the warm wrapping of her heart.When our early settlers arrived on the land in the 17th century from Akpa, the central part of present-day Cross River State, it was following a conflict related to a violation of funeral rituals between two clans.

Maesakpa inhabited Umor and lived in a small hut by herself. She was a mystical being who welcomed us. She held her clay pot in one hand and palm fronts in the other, and sprang water through the paths as she showed our people the boundaries of the land and the most fertile areas before disappearing into thin air.Till date, we honour her help and presence in Ugep.

Banen Umor, the women of Ugep, have always occupied a particularly important place in the making of Umor. The Obin Women Association, established in 1962, is such a testament. My grandmother was a part of it, and one of my aunties is still a member to this day.My grandmother sang their songs on her sickbed, with hand movements like a boat overcoming the tides. She had smiles on her face as she hummed and sang. I imagine it came from a reflective state of, “I did a thing in my lifetime.”

These women built a school from scratch, with their sweat, money, and time. At a time when girls’ education was considered unimportant, these women established a girls’ school for the sole purpose of empowering the girl child.

Whatever “woman king” is, it is the Obin women I see.

They contributed towards the establishment of hospitals, established small-scale businesses, and emboldened themselves. They also composed songs and made melodies only your heart could understand.

They are also the spiritual force of cleansing. They perform the Ebonfawa, the cleansing of the land after the August Leboku festival.The Obin women reflect the strong autonomous position women hold within our matrilineal framework.Perhaps this is why, in my personal pursuit in life, I aim for the top and the best. Every day, I see Obol Lopon Obia Obal, the 7th traditional ruler of Umor.

A woman ascended that height.She ruled Umor Otutu and left a mark.She was strong, and I like to imagine that she had the guiding spirit of Maesakpa with her. I am a proud Omor’mor, and every day there is a reason to thank the heavens for where I come from.