How is Gov Eno Eno’s Grants Helping the Local Economy?

How is Gov Eno Eno’s Grants Helping the Local Economy?

— By Clement Warrie

It started with a simple, casual conversation with my senior colleagues – the Senior Special Assistant to the Governor, Anietie Usen, and Anthony Udoh – about Governor Umo Eno’s generous grants to grassroots businesses, the trainings of entrepreneurs and equipment support for entrepreneurs. Confronted with a vast database of beneficiaries, we found ourselves asking: beyond the records, what are the beneficiaries doing with the grants from the Governor? In what ways have the assistance and support improved their lives and those of their families?

That curiosity would turn into a resolve. A resolve to embark on a journey to connect with over 10,000 grant recipients and entrepreneurs at various levels.

The mission is simple: to capture the human stories behind the data, evaluate the impact and offer business suggestions to those needing help or struggling.

The journey would begin on October 1st. The rain at the break of day was relentless, but by mid-morning, the sky had cleared up and the heavy downpour had trickled to a gentle drizzle. We set out to Abak town for our first appointment with one of the grant beneficiaries.

Going on this adventure got me both excited and anxious at the same time. From my previous experience working as Head of Communications in an NGO, I learnt valuable lessons about the behaviour of some grant and loan beneficiaries: they just do not like to be reminded of their contractual commitments or lent themselves up for evaluations.

But our encounter with Mokomabasi Emmanuel, a shop owner in Abak town, was pleasantly different. This cheerful mother of three was all smiles when we arrived at her shop, which was stocked to the brim with confectioneries, soap, salt, canned goods, bags of sachet water, garri, beans, rice, drinks and other foodstuffs. Her face was still glowing when we spoke about the grant.

“Ah, Sir, that money was like a miracle,” she said, rearranging her well-stocked shelves. “My shop was like a skeleton, I would not lie. I had a little of everything, but not enough of anything.” she said, a tint of sadness in her voice.

“My story has changed today. I sincerely thank Governor Umo Eno for supporting young traders like me. This Golden Era has been a blessing to us, including some of my friends who have also benefitted from it,” she said.

Abak town is a place where silence goes to die. On this day, the streets were filled with angry car horns, motorcycles, blaring music, and rain. The jarring symphony followed us all the way to our second appointment at Zion Computer located at 12 B market Square. The CEO, Mrs Julia Jimmy had heard of the ARISE portal and applied for a grant. She was surprised when she received a call informing her that she was eligible for one. She explained to us, “My photocopy machine was totally broken, and I couldn’t work to make money. But with the grant I received, I have been able to replace the copier and buy a new printer.”

She then pointed to a generator set. “I bought a generator too. This money has helped me expand my business and support my family. As a mother of two, it means so much to see my business revived after it almost went under,” she added.

IKA LGA
Leaving the bustles of Abak town behind and heading towards Ika, the road there grew quieter. Less traffic, less noise. The slow hue of the rural communities speeding by us felt like therapy. One cannot fully realize how much noise a town has put in your head until you’re free from it.

Udua Inyang market in Ika was unusually quiet. This was not surprising. Today wasn’t the main market day. We met Odudu Effiong, his wife, and their two young sons, running around their parent’s open market shed which had a thatched roof woven with dry fronds and supported by strong stilts. The smell of smoked fish and Ikpa enang was typical. Market women regarded us with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

Odudu appeared in his late thirties. At first, he seemed hesitant and unwilling to engage, but I reassured him that we were there to see how he was faring.

As soon as we settled down to talk, Odudu assured us he was profoundly grateful to Governor Umo Eno for supporting his business with a grant. “Since I was born, this is the first time any government has done something for me.” he said, and gesturing to the food items on display in his stall, he continued, “I sell rice, beans, garri, tomatoes, onions, fish, crayfish, and vegetables—whatever I can get. In fact, you could cook an entire pot of soup just by buying from my shop. I want to thank our Golden Governor, Governor Umo Eno, for helping me. And not just me o, there is someone else in this market who also benefited from the grant,” he added with a smile

“Oh, really? In that case, you must take us to him.” I responded.

Odudu did not hesitate. In fact, he now seemed genuinely happy and even insisted on giving me a parting gift. When I pleaded to pay for the pawpaw and some oranges, my pleas fell on deaf ears.

Transformed into a proud guide, Odudu escorted us to the other side of the market. With his initial coldness gone and the suspicious stares from the market women relaxed into friendly smiles, Odudu fully embraced his new status as the star of the moment.

“Odudu, bring your fine fine customers to buy from me o” A young market woman with a child tied behind her back called out.

“Yak aduk usen ifen” Odudu responded airily as we weaved through the markets stalls to meet Iboro Iyere, another beneficiary of Governor Umo Eno’s grant.

Iboro Sunday Iyere’s story is that of expansion. His shop was massive, almost like a mini supermarket, arguably one of the largest in the market. The rows and rows of goods on the shelves were impressive. And on the floor, were bags upon bags of foodstuffs, garri, rice, flour, beans, palm oil in rubbers, groundnut oil and bags of onions. Mr Iyere looked every inch a successful trader. “I received a one-million grant from Governor Umo Eno.” he said with a smile. “And what you’re seeing is the result. I now supply hotels and restaurants all over town.” He beamed with pride.

UKANAFUN LGA
Our next stopover was Ikot Akpankuk in Ukanafun LGA. The young handsome man, Akaninyene Iwok and his beautiful wife, were also beneficiaries of the grant, and they were happy to show us their neat piggery. But the pigs themselves, however, appeared less pleased to receive visitors. Their loud, grating grunts said it all. The owner explained that it was nearly their feeding time. “I feed them three times a day” said Iwok assuring the animal meant no harm.

When I asked how he makes profits from the business, he seemed genuinely happy to share the secrets. “I have three female pigs. And they each give birth to 10 or 11 babies, that’s about N100,000 per litter. Calculate that for three pigs, and you will understand exactly what Governor Umo Eno has done for me and my family,” he said proudly, leaving us to do the math.

By the time we were done engaging with Akaninyene and encouraging him to press on with his business to show good examples to those who are also beneficiaries of the government’s grant in his community, Akaninyene did not let us leave. He held us hostage by his stubborn generosity. He offered us a strong locally made gin, (ufofop) to which we declined and insisted on hitting the road

On our way back to Uyo, I kept glancing at my computer, at the sea of names. But for the first time, the digital data pulsed with life, filled with individual triumphs and stories. However, I was also painfully aware that these were just prologues. The bulk of the stories about the impact of ARISE entrepreneurship empowerment and grassroots business support were still buried within the vast digital register waiting to come alive.

Governor Umo Eno is a unique example in leadership. The data speaks for itself. He is the only governor who has put grassroots development at the center of his economic blueprint. He believes strongly that the economy grows from the ground up. He doesn’t just state this—he acts on it by empowering the shop owners, those operating at road-side kiosks and market traders carrying out their businesses deep in the rural open markets. And sure enough, the impact this has on their lives is not just enormous but also profoundly sustainable.