By Obi Nwakanma

Over the Labor Day weekend, the GCUOBA, the alumni association of the Government College Umuahia met in Columbus, Ohio for the now annual GCUOBA-USA conventions.

These “Umuahian” gatherings are hosted by the various regions of the United States, and this year, the Midwest chapter, comprising old Umuahians living mostly in Illinois, Michigan, Missouri, Ohio, indeed anywhere else in-between from the Twin city of Minneapolis to Indiana, hosted the Umuahian convention.

It was the 10th convention. It is also quite startling that Umuahians began to meet annually in the United States 10 years ago – the first time in New Jersey- and that mustard seed has grown into something of a redoubtable tree.

There were loud absences in this year’s convention; old regulars like Denis Onwualu of Atlanta, or Uyanne, the “stormy petrel” from California or even Philadelphia-based “Timoo” – Ed. Ukaegbu – famous school captain, and cricket all-rounder, and of course, salt-coated Seadog whose lively wit often adds to the camaraderie of many an Umuahian occasion.

There were many such glaring absences. Umuahians of course understood that the pressure of work, sundry obligation, inevitable cross-scheduling especially during this famously busy American holiday weekend, and certain other circumstances or exigencies may have generally combined to essay these absences.

The thing is that they’ve been, nonetheless, entered in the Umuahian runs and detention books and may yet do the runs for “breaking bounds” of course. Yet of course, in spite of these absences, it was a full house.

There were returnees like the Architect, and School Captain Emma Erokwu of Cincinnati Ohio and newcomers like Dr. Osita Okpalaoka. There were of course, two of Umuahia’s distinguished old boys – always present, avuncular, and inspiring to the newer generation of Umuahians – Nze and Mrs. Sam Onyewuenyi (1942) and Mr C. C. and Mrs. Ethel Momah (1944).

Onyewuenyi and Momah – these octogenarians – and their spouses are in defiance of age and look set to bat a century and certainly not out! I think it may have to do with the fact that they were redoubtable sportsmen – both cricket greats in their time. I did also hint to Mrs. Seje Talib, Ali Talib’s spouse, to reveal the secrets of Ali’s perennial boyishness.

I’ve not seen a whit of age on him since I came to know him. It must be an Umuahian thing – from all those runs and periods of detention in school. Even Dr. Ahjoku Amadi-Obi, Molecular immunologist at the United States National Institute of Health in Bethesda, Maryland, of my own generation in Umuahia, now spots a carpet of snow-white hair, which makes him look rather spare and distinguished.

I had to remark on this and he laughed and showed me a picture of his younger brother, the lawyer-artist, Kelechi Amadi Obi, who also now wears a grey beard, and which he also carries rather well. Then of course are the Godswill Okojis of this world with nary a hint of grey, all of whom came set for a typically Umuahian meet.

In general, the Umuahians looked well, in general good health, and in full steam to make a roaring meet of Ohio. Indeed, by the time we arrived the venue of the convention at the Hilton Columbus on Easton, the local committee of Okey Eneli, Emeka Aniagolu and Osita Okpaloka had laid out a reception party for Umuahians at the Presidential suite of the hotel.

Umuahians are not swots – they work hard and they also play quite hard. They know how to enjoy themselves thoroughly. I think this was quite clear, as it came to light later on, that some Umuahians had started on an earlier note by stopping over the day before at the home of Enyi Kanu and his Paediatrician wife Eneni in Cincinnati, before getting over to Columbus.

The convention thus went off on a great note of hospitality, thanks to the hard work of Okey Eneli, Vice President of Engineering services at the Columbus Nationwide Children’s Hospital and his wife Dr. Ihuoma Eneli, Associate Professor of Clinical Paediatrics at the Ohio State University College of Medicine in Columbus, who literally worked their shins off to host Umuahians.

It is a tribute to their energy and organizing instincts that things went without creases, and the reception was a lovely evening.

The keynote speaker for the convention dinner, Professor DMJ Fubara clearly touched upon, drawing the distinguished history of Umuahia and the distinction of its alumni. A school like Umuahia, we keep insisting, is on the register of national heritage.

But it is quite clear that a school like Umuahia founded to offer selective and highly privileged education can no longer be adequately supported by its current trustees, the Abia State government to continue its original mission.

It requires huge financial involvement to maintain the decaying infrastructure of a school like Umuahia whose vast grounds include a golf course, a botanical garden, many sports fields, and a stock of crumbling property. It requires more than a symbolic injection of funds and energy. It requires new initiative to rebuild Umuahia the Abia state government clearly lacks. And so rather than do the right thing, it is willing to let a great school die.

Prior to the convention, a debate erupted among many Umuahians who have begun to question the basis of their commitment to a school that has literally vanished, whose mission has been diminished, and whose trust as well as constituency has been severely reduced.

It is now just another school in Abia state. These concerns are vital because much of what has kept Umuahia going are its generous alumni. It was on this note that much of the business of the convention was conducted, as many old Umuahians seek solutions and long term alternatives to funding and administering Umuahia, and to prepare it to meet not only its old vision, but also commit the school to a 21st century mission of educating leaders in industry, academy, the higher bureaucracy,  in letters, and in politics.

As always in such Umuahian affairs, we left Ohio singing, “in um luceant” – that powerful summoning of the will to shine as one: to be a clear, shining light among our fellow men