1979–2023: Anam votes, others represent in Ukanafun/Oruk Anam

Dominic Akpan

In plural societies, representation in parliament is more than a cstitutional formality; it is a delicate political and social instrument that speaks to inclusion, history and collective identity. Against this backdrop, the question of which zone should produce the next member of the House of Representatives for Ukanafun/Oruk Anam Federal Constituency transcends individual ambition.

It raises deeper concerns about equity and justice, particularly the sustained exclusion of the Anam political bloc from representation in the House of Representatives since the inception of parliamentary democracy. From the era of multiple constituencies to the current unified structure, Anam has remained unrepresented—a reality with far-reaching implications.

Composition of Ukanafun/Oruk Anam Federal Constituency

Ukanafun/Oruk Anam Federal Constituency comprises two local government areas: Ukanafun and Oruk Anam. Each is further divided into two clearly defined political blocs.

Ukanafun Local Government Area is structured around the Ukanafun and Afaha blocs, a deliberate political arrangement designed to ensure fairness, inclusion and stability. This zoning principle has been consistently respected over the years and has guided the sharing of political offices, including representation in the House of Representatives whenever it is Ukanafun’s turn.

The rotation principle in Ukanafun is regarded as sacrosanct—non-negotiable and immune to manipulation in the pursuit of narrow personal ambitions.

Similarly, Oruk Anam Local Government Area is made up of two recognised blocs: Oruk and Anam. There is a long-standing understanding among political stakeholders that power should be shared and rotated between these blocs, particularly for elective offices domiciled in Oruk Anam.

However, this principle has not been applied to representation in the House of Representatives.

A history of exclusion

Since the beginning of representation in the House of Representatives, no individual from the Anam bloc has ever been elected. Not once.

The present Ukanafun/Oruk Anam Federal Constituency emerged in 1999 from the merger of two constituencies—Ukanafun Federal Constituency I and Ukanafun Federal Constituency II—which existed independently during the Second and Third Republics.

During the Second Republic, the late Senator Akaninyene Ukpanah represented Ukanafun Federal Constituency I, while the late Rt. Hon. Dan Eshiet represented Ukanafun Federal Constituency II. At the time, what is now Oruk Anam was part of the Ukanafun Local Government Area. Both lawmakers were re-elected in 1983 before the military terminated civilian rule.

In the Third Republic (1992), the late Chief Sunday J. Inana represented Ukanafun Federal Constituency I, while Rt. Hon. Sunny Udom, from the Oruk bloc, represented Ukanafun Federal Constituency II. By then, Oruk Anam had been carved out of Ukanafun Local Government Area.

With the advent of the Fourth Republic in 1999, Ukanafun Local Government Area produced federal lawmakers for four terms through Obong Eno Akpan (1999–2003), Hon. Sabbath Obot (2007–2011) and Rt. Hon. Unyime Idem (2019–2027).

Oruk Anam, on the other hand, has produced representatives for three terms through Hon. Ubong Etiebet (2003–2007) and Rt. Hon. Emmanuel Ukoette (2011–2019). Both Etiebet and Ukoette hail from the Oruk political bloc.

As 2027 approaches

This history leaves no room for doubt: the Anam bloc has never been given the opportunity to serve in the House of Representatives.

How can this be justified?

How long should a people remain politically invisible within their own local government area? Is Anam only good enough to vote, mobilise and make sacrifices, but never good enough to represent? If rotation is a guiding principle, why is it applied selectively?

If equity truly matters, why has Anam remained shut out for decades?

This is not an oversight; it is a pattern of systemic political exclusion. A political arrangement that consistently favours one bloc while permanently sidelining another is a recipe for bitterness, division and instability.

As the 2027 elections draw near, the question confronting Oruk Anam is both simple and unavoidable: will equity finally prevail, or will Anam continue to be deliberately sidelined?

If power truly belongs to the people, now is the time to correct this historic imbalance. Anything short of that sends a dangerous message—that Anam does not matter—a message Oruk Anam cannot afford to sustain.