My late father used to tell me that elephants never forget. He would sit with me in the evenings, his voice low and steady, and speak of the great beasts that once carved paths through our forests. “They were road builders,” he would say. “They moved toward water, toward life, and we followed.” He was speaking of Aba Amaku, our ancestor, who walked behind the elephants until they led him to the river. To the high ground. To the place where our city would be born. I did not fully understand what he was teaching me then. But yesterday, standing on that same high ground at Ogbor Hill, watching Governor Alex Otti flag off the reconstruction of the Enyimba Hotel after 46 years of sleep, I finally understood. The elephants are marching south again.
Come with me.
There is a spot in Aba that looks out over the river. If you stand there, you can feel it, the past, the present, and the future all meeting in one place. It was here that elephants once came to drink. It was here that a patriarch named Aba Amaku chose to build his home. And it was here, more than a century later, that a deal was struck that would change our city forever.
To truly understand what this flagg off means, you need to stand on that ground. You need to listen to the echoes. You need to hear the elephants. Not many people know this story. But my father made sure I did. Long ago, there lived a man named Aba Amaku. He stayed in a place called Amaku, near where Isiala Ngwa South is today. After a great festival turned ugly, a terrible fight broke out, Aba Amaku and his two lovely brothers, Mgbede and Akpara, decided they could not stay. They packed up and left, searching for a new home.
They walked through thick forests. They followed tracks made by elephants. In those days, elephants were like road builders. They moved through the bush looking for water, and their paths became the only roads people had. The journey was hard. Akpara fell sick and could go no further. He settled right there, and today that place is called Akpara Town, home of the famous Eke-Akpara Market. Mgbede pushed on but later died, and his children stayed where he was buried. That place became Umu-Mgbede. Only Aba Amaku continued alone.
He followed the elephants day after day until he saw something beautiful, a valley with water. He called it Ogwugwu Ariaria. But when the dry season came, the water dried up. Aba prayed and sacrificed, but he knew he needed more. Then one afternoon, he saw elephants marching south again. He told his sons, “Let us follow them.” They walked for hours until the elephants led them to a great river, wide and sparkling. It was the Aba River, the same river that today flows beside the Enyimba Hotel site.
Aba was careful. He did not know if the water was safe. He filled his pot, drank, and told his sons, “If this water kills me, bury me under that tree.” Then he leaned against the trunk and waited. He did not die. The water was life. Aba called his family from their old home and settled right there, on the high ground overlooking the river. He named that place Okpokoro-Ugwu Aba. Today, that land holds the National Museum, the Aba Town Hall, and yes, the Enyimba Hotel. This is sacred ground. This is where our city was born. The elephants had led him home.
Centuries passed. One of Aba Amaku’s descendants, a young man named Chief Ukaegbu Ogbuji, the 9th grandson of Aba Amaku, left home to seek his fortune. He traveled south and worked for the great King Jaja of Opobo, serving in his war canoes. Through hard work and determination, he rose to become a Headman. Around that time, the world was changing. The British wanted palm oil, not slaves. They needed to reach the inland areas, and they needed guides. Chief Ukaegbu became that guide. He led a group of British officials on foot from Opobo, through villages like Ohambele, Akwette, and Obegu, until they reached his hometown, Aba-Ukwu.
When they arrived, Chief Ukaegbu did something remarkable. He led them into his own compound, the very Okpokoro-Ugwu Aba where his ancestor had settled. He let them pitch their tents on his family’s land. He told them, “Take any piece of land you want for your quarters.” Then he returned to Opobo to continue his work, happy to have neighbors watching over his family. Weeks later, steamboats arrived on the Aba River carrying wooden buildings. With Chief Ukaegbu’s blessing, the first British consulate was established. The Ndoni people who helped transport the materials were given land along the riverbank, where their descendants still live today.
When Chief Ukaegbu finally returned home in the 1890s, he brought a vision. He had watched British merchants loading ships with palm oil and kernel. He knew this was the future. He told his relatives, “There is money in this business. Join me.” His daughter, Nweke, was the first to act. She set up a small market at the elephant resting place, a spot called “Okasa,” right in front of her father’s house. That tiny market grew and moved over time. Today, we know it as Ekeoha Market, one of the biggest in West Africa as of today. This is how Aba Township was born. Not through war. Not through force. Through the hospitality and vision of one of our own sons. The strangers came, and we welcomed them. Trade began, and a city was built. The elephants had shown the way. The people had done the rest.
Now we come to 1979. By then, Aba had grown into a commercial giant. People called it the Japan of Africa. Goods made here traveled across Nigeria and beyond. The city needed a landmark that matched its spirit. The late Governor Sam Mbakwe of the old Imo State dreamed big. He imagined a five-star hotel overlooking the Aba River, right there on the historic ground of Okpokoro-Ugwu Aba. It would have 125 rooms, seven stories tall, a place where businessmen and visitors could stay in comfort. They called it the Enyimba International Hotel. The foundation was laid. The walls rose. The people watched with hope. But then the government fell. The project was abandoned midway. The money stopped. The workers went home.
For 46 years, that skeleton stood there. Rain beat it. Sun scorched it. Weeds covered it. Hoodlums hid inside it. At one point, the police used it as a camp. It became a painful sight, a constant reminder of promises broken. Every day, the people of Aba drove past that hill and felt shame in their hearts. The elephants had stopped marching. The giant had fallen asleep.
Over the years, there were attempts to wake it. In 1991, the Aba Chamber of Commerce acquired it but could not finish due to lack of funds. In 2016, a deal was signed with Swiss International, promising completion in 18 months. That agreement failed. The giant slept on.
Then came 2023. The people of Abia voted for a new kind of leader. Dr. Alex C. Otti stood before us and made promises. He said things would be done differently. He said the mandate the people gave him was sacred. But here is what many did not know, long before he cut any tape or made any speech, Governor Otti did something that reminded me of the elephants. He moved quietly. He studied the terrain. He looked for the path that would lead to water.
When he won, he set up a Transition Council to study the state and recommend what needed to be done. That council submitted a report calling Abia a “decayed state” that needed urgent attention. They recommended that Governor Otti appoint competent hands and focus on projects that would truly change lives.
Governor Otti received that report and promised to implement it fully. Two years later, he would say that his policies and laws were all aligned with his manifesto and the recommendations of that transition committee. He was not just making promises. He was following a plan, a path and very committed.
One of the biggest challenges they identified was the abandoned Enyimba Hotel. For 46 years, it had been a symbol of neglect. But Governor Otti did not just make announcements. He did the quiet work first. He resolved the legal and contractual issues that had scared away every other investor for decades. He cleared the path, just as the elephants once cleared the forest for our ancestor.
Then, on January 7, 2025, he did something unprecedented. He signed an agreement with Radisson Blu, one of the biggest hotel groups in the world. Not a small contractor. Not a local businessman with big promises. A global giant that knows how to build dreams. The agreement was not just for a hotel. It included a 2,500-seater international conference centre, multiple smaller halls, and a large exhibition space. The new Enyimba Hotel would have 250 rooms, twice what was originally planned. It would be managed by Radisson Blu as a five-star property, putting Aba on the world map. The elephants were stirring.
Yesterday, February 25, 2026, Governor Alex Otti stood on that sacred ground at Ogbor Hill and flagged off the reconstruction. Let me share something you may not know. The idea for this hotel was first proposed during the Dr. Asika administration of the old East Central State. But it was actually started by Sam Mbakwe in 1979. For over 40 years, it sat abandoned. But here is what struck me as I was watching the flag off video. Governor Otti was not just standing on any ground. He was standing exactly where Aba Amaku once stood. Where Chief Ukaegbu once welcomed strangers. Where Nweke once spread her wares and started a market that would feed millions.
The elephants that led our ancestors here, they would have recognized this moment. Because what is leadership if not knowing where the water is and having the courage to lead people to it? Governor Otti announced that the reconstruction will create over 5,000 jobs during the building phase. When completed, the hotel will employ over 2,000 staff permanently. Think about that. Two thousand families eating from one project. Two thousand young people with regular salaries, skills, and dignity.
And he did not stop at the hotel. He also has plans of dredging the Aba River, the same river that drew Aba Amaku here 600 years ago, to give the hotel a beautiful, global outlook. There is also a plan to dualize the road linking the new Aba Airport to the hotel, so visitors can fly in and go straight to a five-star experience. This is what leadership looks like. Not just building a building. But building an entire ecosystem. Clearing a path for others to follow. The elephants are marching south again. And this time, they are bringing the world with them.
So let me paint a picture for you. When this hotel opens its doors, what will Aba become? Aba has always been a place of trade. Shoes, bags, clothes, leather goods. Things made here travel to America, Europe, and all over Africa. But business has always been done the hard way, visitors staying in small lodges, meetings held in cramped spaces, opportunities lost because the infrastructure was not there.
With a 250-room Radisson Blu, that changes. Businessmen will stay here. They will eat here. They will hold meetings here. They will spend their money here. The conference centre will host events that bring people from all over Nigeria and beyond. Every room booked, every meal served, every conference held puts money into the pockets of Aba people.
Two thousand permanent jobs. That is not just a number. That is two thousand families who will eat three meals a day. Two thousand young people who will not need to look for visas to travel abroad. Two thousand reasons for our children to believe that Aba can work. And these are not just receptionist jobs. Cooks, waiters, security, drivers, laundry, gardening, plumbing, electrical, accounting, management, marketing. Plus all the people who will supply food, vegetables, meat, fish, and services to the hotel. The ripple effect will touch every corner of this city.
When international visitors fly in and see a Radisson Blu standing tall, they will know they have arrived somewhere serious. International companies that never considered Aba before will start looking. “If Radisson Blu is there,” they will think, “maybe this place is ready for real business.” The hotel becomes a stamp of approval, a sign that Aba has joined the modern world. Other investors will follow. More hotels will come. Better restaurants will open. The whole area around Ogbor Hill will develop and grow.
For years, the Aba River has been neglected. Dirty. Forgotten. Ignored. But Governor Otti has promised to dredge it, to clean it, to make it beautiful again. Imagine sitting in a nice hotel restaurant, looking out at a clean river, watching the sunset over Aba. That changes how people feel about their city. It restores pride. It gives hope. The elephants always led toward water. Now, finally, we are following.
For 46 years, the people of Aba watched leaders come and go. They made promises. They cut tapes. They took photographs. Then they left, and nothing changed. The abandoned hotel stayed abandoned. The people learned not to trust. Governor Otti did something different. He did the hard work first. He cleared the legal obstacles. He settled the disputes. He brought a credible partner. He followed the roadmap laid out in his manifesto and the transition council report. Then he flagged off.
When this hotel is finished, it will stand as proof that things can change. That leaders can keep their word. That Aba is not cursed to remain neglected forever. That is worth more than all the concrete and glass in the world. But more than that, it will stand as proof that the path the elephants carved still exists. That those who pay attention can still find it. That if you follow the signs, if you do the quiet work, if you clear the way, if you move toward water, you will eventually reach a place where life can flourish.
My father told me these stories so I would never forget where I come from. He told me about Aba Amaku following the elephants to the river. He told me about Chief Ukaegbu Ogbuji welcoming strangers to his compound. He told me about Nweke starting a market that grew into an empire. But he also taught me something else. He taught me that the elephants never really left. They simply went where they were needed, and waited for those who would follow.
I wish my father was alive to see February 25, 2026. He would have stood on that hill and wept. Not tears of sorrow. Tears of joy. Because after 600 years, after all the struggles and setbacks, the land of our ancestors is finally getting what it deserves. And the elephants that led us here, they are finally being honored by someone who remembered the way.
Governor Otti is not from Aba South or Aba North. But he understood something important. When you lead a place, you inherit its history. You inherit its dreams. You inherit its wounds. And if you are wise, you also inherit its paths, the old routes carved by those who came before, waiting for someone brave enough to walk them again. By waking this giant, he has honored every ancestor who walked this land before us. He has shown that the path still exists. That the elephants still march. That Aba still remembers.
I am proud to be from Aba. I am proud that this historic ground lies in my hometown. I am proud that my father’s stories are now being fulfilled before my eyes. The Enyimba Hotel waited 46 years for this moment. The land waited 600 years for its destiny to be fulfilled. The elephants that led Aba Amaku here would be proud. The son who welcomed strangers and started the markets would be proud. The daughter who spread her wares and built an empire would be proud.
Governor Alex Otti has done what many said was impossible. He found the old path. He followed it south. And he woke the giant. Now the work continues. The building must rise. The jobs must come. The river must be cleaned. The promise must be kept. So yesterday, the 25th of February 2026, something shifted in Aba. The people looked at that hill and saw, for the first time in 46 years, not a skeleton but a hope. Not a shame but a promise. Not an ending but a beginning. The elephants are marching south again. The giant is awake. The hotel is coming. And Aba, our beloved Enyimba City, will never be the same again.
PS: This essay is dedicated to the memory of my late father, who taught me to love this land and never forget its stories. He taught me that elephants never forget. And neither should we. May his soul continue to rest in peace. And may the ancestors, and the elephants, smile on what is rising from their sacred ground.
© 2026 Emenike Vincent Onyembi is a policy development analyst based in Abuja.
📩 vincentonyembi@gmail.com
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