Predicting the future in politics is a fool’s errand. Yet sometimes, the rhythm of the approaching drums gives away the dancers long before the festival begins.
In the Ukanafun–Oruk Anam Federal Constituency, that rhythm is already echoing through forum and market places, as Hon. Unyime Idem eyes a third term in the Green Chamber. For the lawmaker, this will not be a stroll through familiar territory. Not this time. Not in 2027. It will be a high jump, not a low huddle.
The road ahead is uneven, paved not with the smoothness of incumbency, but with the stones of dissenting voices, political fatigue, and the restless hunger of a people who sometimes crave new energy even when the old wine still flows sweet. Idem also has electrifying support and large crusade of die-hard followers.
Idem remains formidable, well-resourced, experienced, and deeply connected. Yet in this new market of shifting loyalties and unspoken grievances, money and sincerity no longer trade at equal value.
The PDP, still a dominant stall in the political bazaar, faces a fierce storm within its own tent. Meanwhile, the ADC, nimble and hungry, eyes a chance to open shops to buy influence with the coin of grassroots mobilization. Between these two, the market of 2027 may prove as unpredictable as the next market day, when new traders arrive with strange goods and sharper bargaining tongues.
And then there is Engineer Aniekan Abraham, better known by his street name, Anisolo. That name now drifts through Ukanafun-Oruk Anam like the scent of roasted new yam on a market morning. He is Idem’s only visible opponent for now and perhaps the most intriguing.
Anisolo is no incumbent, but he is a son of the soil, molded from the same red clay that shapes Oruk Anam’s men: resilient, grounded, and unafraid of storms. Like a tree growing beside a kolanut tree, he has learned the political language of patience and shade.
To some, he looks like a young David before Goliath carrying his sling made not of arrogance, but conviction. He may not boast Idem’s trophies or Abuja headlines, but he carries the spirit of a Estevao Willian who steps off Chelsea’s bench to score the winning goal against Liverpool. Ignore him, and you might mistake a ghost whisper for a whistle through a graveyard.
Across the constituency, the gossip rises like market chatter: “Can Anisolo truly unseat Idem?” In politics, miracles are often born when power grows too sure of itself.
Idem’s achievements are real. His record in infrastructure, youth empowerment, and constituency projects has earned him loyal followers. Yet the wind of 2027 carries unsettling questions. Has the people’s affection for Idem matured into unalloyed loyalty or hardened into entitlement fatigue and weariness over his perpetual clinging to power?
The real mystery may not lie in the candidates, but in the marketplace of politics itself: that dicey arena where promises are sold, hopes are haggled, and allegiances traded like salt and pepper.
Ukanafun and Oruk Anam have seen enough market days to know the loudest trader doesn’t always sell the most. Sometimes, it’s the quiet one in the corner who walks home with the heaviest purse.
As the PDP defends its old market stall and the ADC laces it’s boots to join the league, the uncontrollable variables such as godfathers, party primaries, shifting voter sentiments will decide who buys victory and who becomes the casualty of the marketplace.
In the end, the myth of electoral casualties may become the reality of 2027. In the battle of elected principalities, giants sometimes fall, while others bleed quietly.
The political market day will come. And when the dust settles, Ukanafun–Oruk Anam will count its traders—those who bought wisely, and those who sold their future too cheaply.
Until then, every handshake, every whisper, every kola nut shared in Ukanafun-Oruk Anam’s courtyards remains part of an unfolding prophecy. Because in politics, just as in the market, those who arrive early don’t always get the best price, but those who understand the market spirit rarely go home empty-handed.