By UduakAbàsi Ikpat
In Akwa Ibom State, the promise of unity has been tested. What was once a rallying cry “Akwa Ibom United” has recently been strained by internal strife within the All Progressives Congress (APC). Across LGAs and Wards, the political realignment that accompanied defections from rival parties has stirred unease, exposed latent rivalries, and brought into sharp relief the tension between slogans and practice. The ideal of a united state now collides with the reality of discord, as party structures that were painstakingly nurtured by grassroots actors face the threat of arbitrary disruption.
The social and political cost of this crisis is immediate and visible. As communities that had once celebrated political stability now grapple with uncertainty. Local party executives, who were long trusted to manage the wards and chapters, now find themselves at odds with newly integrated politicians whose arrival threatens to displace those who built the ruling party from scratch. On this ground, the fallout is not limited to just party halls, it reverberates through civic life, eroding confidence in our leadership and also undermining the cohesion that slogans like “Akwa Ibom United” promise but have yet to fully deliver as it were.
The situation politically in the state exposes an uncomfortable truth political unity cannot be manufactured through rhetoric alone. Realignment and mergers may bring numbers and positions, but they also stand risk sidelining the very people who laboured to make the party credible at the grassroots today. Where loyalty and historical contribution are ignored, slogans ring hollow, and the idea of a united state becomes a convenient fiction rather than a lived reality.
Although, in the several local government areas, ward and chapter executives have equally mobilized in protest, rejecting attempts to impose leadership from above. Notable amongst them are the ones in Mkpat Enin local government area, a similar issue in Nsit Ibom, and others. These demonstrations overly reflect a collective assertion and those who nurtured the party cannot be discarded for political expediency. The unrest has brought to light deep-seated anxieties about fairness, recognition, and preservation of institutional memory. Citizens and party faithful alike are left questioning whether unity is genuinely the goal or merely a cover for structural displacement.
However, extension is already magnified by the uneven integration of the new members from the PDP. Amid the situation while expansion and alliance-building are necessary for political survival, they must not come at the expense of those who invested years of effort into building the APC party’s foundation. When the balance is skewed, what was intended as unity becomes a source of statewide division, and the moral authority of the party risks being eroded in the eyes of both members and the electorate so be treated properly.
The crisis also underscores the symbolic power of party structures. As Executive committees at the ward and chapter levels are not just administrative bodies, they are repositories of trust, loyalty, and experience. So any disruption to these structures will have far implications beyond just internal partisan politics. It shapes public perception of fairness, governance, and leadership credibility.
The very slogan that promises a united state is rendered fragile if foundational members feel sidelined or ignored. Amidst the tension, state leadership has issued clarifications on the composition of party executive structures, seeking to reassure loyalists and provide a reliable framework for seamless integration.
Now communication from higher leadership authority in the state affirms the retention of a significant portion of existing members which are from the APC while allowing for the inclusion of a smaller number of newcomers. On its surface, this seeks to balance continuity with growth, stability with integration.
Yet the nuance is critical. Protection of existing numbers does not necessarily guarantee preservation of specific identities or positions, leaving room for discretion in implementation.
This subtlety reflects the ongoing challenge of reconciling inclusion with justice, maintaining the confidence of a very long-standing members while accommodating political realignment.
The deeper lesson of this moment is clear, and is that slogans, realignments, and political calculations cannot or never substitute for fairness and recognition.
True measure of unity therefore lies in honoring the contributions of those who built the party from the grassroots at challenging times, preserving it own institutional memory, and ensuring that that this integration is strategic rather than destructive to the ruling party.
Failure to uphold these principles risks far-reaching consequences. Discord at the grassroots can erode the credibility of local governance, weaken party cohesion, and diminish public trust. What begins as internal wrangling becomes a broader challenge to the idea of a unified state.
However, careful management of the party’s structures, guided by justice and inclusivity, can strengthen both party and state, turning potential conflict into an opportunity for genuine cohesion. The crisis serves as a reminder that the moral foundations of political structures are as important as their formal arrangements.
Loyalty, labour, and experience are not fungible, they are the pillars upon which political credibility is built. And slogans like “Akwa Ibom United” resonate only when they reflect lived realities, when promises of unity translate into respect for those who sustained the party through it very uncertain times.
And as the congresses approach, the imperative is clear, unity must be substantive, not rhetorical. Foundational members must henceforth be recognized, and integration managed with transparency and fairness must take center stage. Only then can the ideals behind “Akwa Ibom United” become more than a slogan, they can become a tangible reality, strengthening both the party and the state it seeks to govern.
