I LEFT the shores of Nigeria in 1984 to “God’s own country”, the United States of America, USA, to seek greener pastures and for the actualisation of self esteem, after a few years spell as a journalist with one of the country’s top tabloids, the Punch.

Deep down in me, I still remember with nostalgia the feeling of the good old days, when as a young man in his twenties, what the oil city of Warri can offer an individual with self belief.

Night clubs and hangouts were countless. Among the pack were Gogo Room, Paradisco, Pemmy, De-Rabbit, Lido and the Lords.  Others were Beach Combers, with an almost White or foreign patronage. Night life in “Waffi”, as it was popularly known, was super as there was action and fun from Monday to Monday. There was never a dull moment.

The political evolution in Nigeria with its complexities brought to the fore, issues of marginalisation, resource control, ethnic militancy, industrial unrest, religious extremism, kidnappings, assassination and a plethora of social maladies.

While in the United States, I swore (but not in the name of the ancestors) never to return to Nigeria, nay Warri, for fear of my life and those of my siblings living with me over there. But as an African with entrenched family ties, the lure and savvy of the West did not make my sojourn complete. I still dreamt of my country, my relations in Warri and even classmates of my alma mater, United College of Commerce, UCC, Warri.

An occasion presented itself when it became imperative, inevitable and a compulsion for me to travel home- the death and burial rites of my uncle’s wife and to see my younger brother who lost his wife. The thought of having to visit Warri gave me, my wife and children goose pimples. I had sleepless nights as a lot of things were running through my mind, no thanks to the gory stories posted on the internet and other social media platforms.

As a typical ‘Warri boy’ with the perception of the local parlance of “all die na die”, I had no option than to book my flight to Nigeria.

While in Warri, I slept with one eye open for the first two nights while anticipating the much talked about gun shots rendering the air. I did not hear of one. Could that be a ruse? I wondered. Three days and the fourth. No bomb blast, no kidnap story.

What looked like a semblance of peace and tranquility in Warri became a reality when on Valentine Day, I ventured into night life at a resort located in the old airport area. What I saw was unbelievably true – couples and loved ones hanging out and enjoying themselves in the spirit of conviviality, exotic cars  in the parking lot, with ushers and protocol staff on hand.

To satisfy my curiosity, I asked a guy sitting close to me if the location of the resort was outside the city of Warri. “This is Warri” he retorted. He volunteered further: “Why do you ask…? Are you new in town”? I told him of the negative impression I have about Warri. Immediately, he offered to take me to another event centre where a valentine carnival was equally holding.

The Brownhill Events Centre was organising a show tagged “Warri Again”; the Valentine Edition, as it is called, reminded me of the first class events in Hollywood and  the Grammy Awards and Oscars. The red carpet setting was unimaginable. The hall was packed full. It was reminiscent of the lovely evening of yester-years. I wondered aloud and told my new found friends that I will relish this experience for a long time to come. I immediately put a call through to my wife. In our discussion, we struck a consensus to come back to Nigeria with our children for an Easter bash  of “Warri Again” at the Brownhill Centre, which I gathered has been fixed for April 18th which is the Good Friday of the Easter celebration.

My background as a journalist made me have a critical eye in write-ups authored by me in dedicated columns of Nigeria’s major tabloids of yester- years. A die-hard critic, I am not given to sycophancy and playing to the gallery.

I was stunned when a visit to the popular Enerhen Junction in Warri revealed mass transformation of infrastructure. What with the dual carriageway, the traffic light, modern bus stop, construction work going on with an overhead bridge.  Just pray and hope that the incoming civilian administration will build and consolidate on these achievements.

The private sector, to my mind, are potent agents of rebranding. When professionally managed, some corporate profile events in Warri and, indeed, elsewhere can turn around the negative hype with which some cities are synonymous. The Brownhill Events Centre is a classical example where personalities that cut across the spectrum of the society hobnob, unwind and share ideas. By my count that evening, a lot of corporate organisations key into the vision of rebranding Warri. The list is endless but not restricted to Hyundai Motors, Crown FM, Protea Hotel, Radio Delta, A&E Petroleum, Zenith Bank, Lift Tugboats, DSIR , JAD Catering Services, Python Engineering, Guinness and MTN.

The array of Nigerian artistes and comedians that were on hand to thrill the audience at the Valentine bash were amazingly wonderful, to say the least. The likes of Mike Okri, Timaya, Waje, Sir Shina Peters, Sean Tizzle, Teckno, Banky W, and Selebobo took their turns to sing to the admiration of the audience while rib-cracking jokes and banters were churned out by ace comedians  such as AY,  I-Go-Dye, I-Go-Save, Baba Kome, Odogwu, Buchi, Emeka Smith and M.C. Shakara, just to mention but a few.

On a final note, I have arrogated to myself the toga of a “Warri Ambassador” as I have gone back to the States with footage of social events in the city, which to all discerning minds capture the true reality on ground.

Mr. MARK EDA, a journalist,  wrote from Los Angeles, USA.