News Editor
By ABC Group
Effiong Nyong has once again mounted the pulpit of lamentation, composing verses of sorrow over Bakassi and branding government as heartless, the people as voiceless, and himself as prophet of a new dawn. His article “Bakassi… Where Territory is more important than humans” recently published on Mainland Metro News (MMN) drips with righteous indignation, but beneath the rhetoric lies a troubling irony: the man who calls for redemption has himself been a monument to failed ventures, contradictions, and selective memory.
The Poet of Broken Enterprises
How do we take seriously the man who preaches prosperity for Bakassi, yet could not sustain prosperity in his own hands? Effiong Nyong’s personal history reads like a litany of failures. His canteen, Canaan Foods, in Akpeno, Surulere, collapsed like a rickety stall under storm. His foray into sport journalism ended not with trophies but with forfeited matches. As General Manager of Sparkling FM, his tenure was not sparkling at all; it dimmed like a faulty transmitter and left the station gasping. Even his later ventures bore the same tragic pattern — failure wrapped in excuses. And yet, in the mercies of benefactors, lifelines were extended. Remedies offered. Should we now call him savior of Bakassi? A cracked pot cannot hold water; why should it carry the people’s destiny?
The Selective Memory of History
More troubling than his personal record is his selective rewriting of history. Nyong thunders against Cross River and Nigeria as though the ruling APC, incumbents President Bola Tinubu, or Governor Bassey Otu authored the International Court of Justice ruling at The Hague. But memory is stubborn. The architects of the Bakassi tragedy — the men who negotiated the Green Tree Agreement and midwifed the handover — were not APC stalwarts. They were pillars of the ADC coalition Nyong now sings hosanna to: former President Olusegun Obasanjo, Donald Duke, Liyel Imoke, Efiok Cobham, Essien Ayi, Gershom Bassey, Senator Bassey Henshaw. These were the custodians who signed, sealed, and delivered Bakassi to Cameroon directly and France indirectly.
If indeed Bakassi was “betrayed through negotiated transactions,” then the fingerprints of betrayal belong to Nyong’s political allies, not his enemies. Why then does he spit venom at those who inherited scars, and not at the surgeons who wielded the knife?
The Preacher’s Household Contradiction
There is another irony that cannot be ignored. Effiong Nyong calls on Cross Riverians to abandon complacency, yet his own son enjoys a juicy appointment under the same state government he vilifies. A preacher whose son dines at Caesar’s table should not mount the pulpit to condemn Caesar. Before lecturing the public on sacrifice, let him first cleanse his own household. Resignations speak louder than rhetoric. Until then, his words will remain the hollow echoes of a man at war with his own reflection.
Diplomacy, Not Drums of War
But beyond Nyong’s contradictions lies the heart of the matter. Bakassi is not a riddle to be solved with rage. It is not a wound to be worsened by blame games. The Obol Lopon of Ugep teaches us through custom that dignity lies in restraint –this is what is exemplified in tree branch held in between the lips of the royal father. Similarly, Governor Otu has not raised accusing fingers; President Tinubu has not reopened old scars. They have chosen diplomacy over discord, stitching a future instead of tearing at bandages.
Yes, questions must be asked: What became of the Green Tree Agreement? Where is the Bakassi Stabilization Fund? How are local allocations managed? But these questions are not answered by Nyong’s dirges. They require steady negotiation, quiet statesmanship, and the discipline to seek justice without burning bridges.
The Poetry of Patience
Nyong’s essay is poetry of lament, but poetry cannot substitute for policy. Anger may rattle the drums, but diplomacy steadies the ship. Bakassi’s destiny will not be restored by shouting into microphones or penning bitter verses; it will be rebuilt through the slow chiseling of diplomacy, accountability, and collective resolve.
Nyong asks: “How did we lose our soul?” Perhaps the answer lies closer to home than he admits. It was not lost yesterday; it was traded away years ago by men he still courts in political communion. His anger may be real, but his memory is selective. His failures are personal, but his prescriptions are national.
Conclusion
Group ABC insists that Effiong Nyong’s lament, however poetic, rings hollow. His contradictions undermine his sermon, and his selective memory distorts history. The path forward for Bakassi is not paved with blame and bitterness, but with patience, diplomacy, and solutions. What Bakassi needs are leaders with clean hands, steady hearts, and credible records — not prophets whose own altars lie in ruins.
Bakassi deserves more than dirges. It deserves direction. And history will not be rewritten by failed men posing as saviors.
