This is the part of Donald Duke’s legacy that has refused to die

Sometime in the month of September, my friends and I, serving corps members in the state of Cross River, are walking the deserted streets of Tinapa Resort. The Tinapa Resort, built by the Donald Duke government, was supposed to make Cross River a major tourist attraction and bring revenue to the country. It never quite panned out this way.

Michael, my neighbour turned companion/tour guide, who, in what was his exaggerated way of explaining the situation, warned us that we would meet ‘no form of life’ during our walk and consoled us with the promise of a most rewarding visit that brimmed with events and tourist activities here and in all the other similar spots when, as he did put it, ‘carnival season’ comes.

CARNIVAL SEASON

I

27^th December, 2017.

Bikers Parade

9:59PM.

‘…Chill, not found cab yet.’

I am standing by the pedestrian walkway replying a friend who just came into town for the Carnival’s main event when a taxi pulls just in front of me. Inside, I catch my reflection in the side mirror and brush my palms slightly across the patterns of dried white paint on my face, a creative expression of an artist, an acquaintance who, in recognition, had gently pulled me out from the crowd where I stood and watched the parade of power bikes and vintage cars.

This would be for me, a first of many insights from the carnival experience; this zero-in-one chance of finding someone I was already acquainted with the thousands of people who migrate for hundreds of miles down to this often sleepy city. How for this period of the carnival, Calabar is home to hundreds of both local and international visitors, extending the warmth of its welcome to every and anyone.

There were the girls who let me take photos but refused to sign release forms to let me publish them because there was even a sliver of a possibility of being found out by their families who had no idea they were here. And of course, my friend, as he made his way into town from the neighbouring state, taking a break off his holiday time with family for his first experience of the carnival. And Bash Aleee, the acquaintance, both of us visitors from far, faraway states, charging a bill of #500-1000 for facial and body painting. Each of us united in our individual quests for fun, for pleasure, for expression.

This city, it gives.

One hour and thirty minutes of driving around town in search of hotels with available spaces. One hour and thirty minutes until we finally find one with prices scaled up, triple its usual amount, in response to the sudden demand. The city is bustling, packed full and hotels are selling out rooms like it’s no man’s business.

“No o… it’s not extortion, it’s just carnival season.” the receptionist retorts coyly to my bitter joke as she hands over the key.

The city, it takes, too.

II

28^th December, 2017.

Main Event.

There is a lot resting on my carnival experience, a lot of assurances, and a lot of expectations.

There are Michael’s predictions after  that one disappointing trip to Tinapa, most of which have proved true as Carnival season came and brought a staggering inflow of guests, and an upsurge of  of activities in many of the city’s social spots. There are the girls, sisters and neighbours, some of whom are members of the participating bands, who regaled us with stories of their past carnival experiences. There is my Landlord, appraising my stay as he reminisced the days when he took his now-married-kids by the hand to watch the past carnivals, assuring me of  a fun experience.

I will, as we wait for the procession to begin, come to find variants of this expectation on the faces of people I stumble across; I will read them, just as I would read mine earlier at home, standing before my mirror. I will, as the day progresses learn to water down my expectations, I am Nigerian, and of course, in Nigeria, it is too much to ask that an event, even one as monumental as the Carnival Calabar, slated for a particular time begins when advertised.

I find beauty in the expression of its crowd, in the artistry of craftsmanship put in by the different bands to tell their stories. I find it in the various colours on faces, on bodies, on costumes illuminated the city’s sun.  I find the city of Calabar spread its warmth through the smile of strangers and they memories they make here.

Four hours late, the parade begins with a themed speech on migration by the Governor as he arrives. The parade is led by the Governor’s Band, a conglomeration of friends of the government and top industry personnel.  It moves slowly, with the different parade groups excitedly displaying their choreographedpresentations. The crowd is ill managed.

It is be dark when I leave. The highway, as yet untrod by the bands is packed on both sides with an audience waiting for the parade to make its 12kilometer lap into town and back out again towards them. I walk home underneath the bright streetlights wanting many things, sleep mostly.

0

The following morning, the girls, in their dry, almost-inaudibly lost voices share in my disappointment and lament to us how their band didn’t complete its turn around the carnival route until 6am that morning. 

III

29-30^th December, 2017.

International Carnival.

The international carnival compensates me,. I am like a child carrying the grudge of a cancelled outing, who abandons their grudge with wide a grin to receive a consolatory gift from my offender. The angst from the previous day’s lack of management I lose as the International Carnival kicks off at the city’s stadium.

18 countries participate, each country validating the  Carnival’s reputation as an internationally renowned festival, and for the city of Calabar as a whole, reaffirming of the fact that it is  Africa’s biggest street party.

The crowd goes ecstatic watching contingents from the different participating countries make their appearances, having crossed oceans, carrying in their bones, their backs, their bodies a congregation of performances; of culture, of songs and of history, telling stories of migration.

A concert follows afterwards, carrying on well into the next morning with guest performances from 2face, Sunny Neji, Naeto C. MC Galaxy is the highlight of the morning as he shows to have the heart of the people, his people, in his hands, and in theirs also, his.

In a couple more hours I’ll  board a bus  home to family,  be broke to my teeth. I’ll scroll the buttons of my camera, through moments captured. As we begin the six-hour journey, and I’ll know , then, that come 2018 I will come back here for Carnival Season.