That 370 Plus Miles Drive and Ikeji Arochukwu at Fremont, California

Isn't it amazing how time certainly fly by? It seems like only yesterday when I use to hang out at "Okpuruisi" L. N. Obioha's compound at Nd'Akeme, Arondizuogu. I remember clearly as little brats talking about Ikeji Nd'Izuogu, emume iri ji ohuru, New Yam Festival, some kind of stuff really strange to me back then. Okpurisi's kids were my good buddies and we did a whole lot of stuff together as kids trying to belong in the funktified era when disco boomed, jamming in every social gathering. I can also recall the gist about the uniqueness of Ikeji Nd'Izuogu with Cornelius Kanu, Richard Obioha, Louis Obioha, George Okeosisi, Henry Igwe, Uche Obioha, Enuma Ukabam, Victor Udorji and the rest who insisted Ikeji Nd'Izuogu surpasses all Aro New Yam Festivals on the ground Arondizuogu is said to be the largest of all Aro settlements in Igboland.

As reflected, Eddie Onyeador, attache to the Nigerian Embassy in South Africa visiting the shores of America had called asking me to be his special guest by accompanying his cousin Obinne Onyeador to the 2007 Annual Ikeji Festival of Arochukwu in Northern California. There was not much line up for the weekend in Los Angeles. And I thought I needed to stay away from the Hollywood hype for a minute. I had agreed to breeze in and witness the Ikeji, live, once again.

So, when Obinne called me to find out if his cousin Eddie had talked to me regarding the trip to Bay Area, I told him "I just spoke to Eddie and we will be travelling together."

Obinne is just a fun guy and he loves hanging out the old-fashion way. He loves music of every genre but reggae is top on his list of every music category. He still wonders how Bob Marley made Jamaica what it is today. He loves jazz, too, and John Coltrane is his best. He is not crazy about rock music, because, to him, heavy metal is for lunatics. But his trade is the arts. He had bid goodbye to being programmed as a criminologist at UC Berkeley - clocking in and clocking out - to being his own boss selling artifacts. He has every print of any artist and that's what he does for a living. And his passion has become his profession.

Our trip was suppose to have taken place on Friday, September 21st but we had to put it off the next day due to series of activities in Los Angeles. Besides, it was pouring like crazy and driving at night under the rain was not a good idea.

On Saturday, September 22nd, Obinne had called me as early as five o'clock in the morning. I was still lying down half awoke. I went back to sleep for another couple of hours and Obinne had called wondering if I was going to make the trip.

Finnally, I was up and the time was a little bit past seven o'clock in the morning. I took a shower, got dressed and vroomed to Obinne's house and he was ready like Freddy. We drove to his gallery at Leimert Park's "Black Township" where he picked up some artifacts he thought Nd'Arochukwu might use in the festival. We left his shop to gas up for an estimated five hours and half journey to the Bay Area. When we left the gas station heading to the 10 Freeway, knowing Obinne loves reggae a whole lot, I flip-flopped Peter Tosh' "Equal Rights" CD, inserted it to the car stereo and Tosh' roots reggae began to blast taking us back to memory lane.

Obinne was just a good company. He talked and talked to keep me alert since I was the one driving. I was swirving and changing lanes doing some 90-plus miles an hour. We start to talk about how reggae changed everything and how the trio Bob Marley, Peter Tosh and Bunny Wailer, founders of The Wailers made a significant impact to music and U Roy's initiative which took reggae to another level metamorphosing to what is today rap and hip-hop. Tosh' track African considered by many to be his best touched Obinne's heart when it played and he read meaning into it.

After Tosh' blast, I went local since all politics are local according to Tip O'neil. I took out Baba's finest recordings I had compiled at Samaka Studios and when the first track Upside Down began to show the real stuff, I mean the superb arrangements and compositions of the Chief Priest, Obinne went nuts saying "he was way before his time." But when the singing and chorus popped up, he had no idea who the female singer was. The singer was Sandra Isodore, a Black Panthers fanatic who had introduced Chief Priest Fela Anikulapo Kuti to the philosophies and writings of Malcolm X, Eldridge Cleaver and other black thinkers of the day when Baba took his Koola Lobitos Band to Los Angeles in 1969.

As Fela jammed, we talked politics and culture. On Nd'Igbo, Obinne acknowledged the fact that after our generation anything Igbo will definitely disappear, and that Igbos are indeed a finished people. "Look at our kids, do you think they will have anything to do with our culture when we're gone?" Obinne curiously ask.

"Well, I have said this long time ago and I'm weary of pointing out," I said back to him.

"But, you see, if our local musicians had challenged the establishment through their music, probably a whole lot would have changed, like Fela hammered the system and today he left a legacy. Not only that, Fela is a legend. Show me any Igbo musician who did what Fela did other than chasing money?" Obinne throws back.

"When you have a jumbled and bellicose so-called Igbo elites, what do you expect to happen? It's a tragedy, man!" I would say.

By the time Fela's jam session was over, we were already half way and the smell of Central California produce could be felt through our nose on both sides of the freeway. It was Obinne's request time. He wanted a different taste of music and had brought out his own CD, a compilation of Soukous musicals which blasted non-stop until we exited the freeway, cruising on Foothill Boulevard by California State University, Hayward Campus. A beautiful and quiet town, not to my taste, though. I love Los Angeles. We landed at where Eddie was staying at this university village and hanged out a little bit before the all night long carnival at downtown Fremont's Golden Peacock Banquet Hall.

The origin of Ikeji surfaced in our discourse. According to legend, the Aro people who migrated from place to place started celebrating New Yam Festival about 200 years ago. We talked about other festivals in Igboland and how similar they all tend to be with the appearance of a masquerade being involved.

At about 9:30 in the evening we were at 3681 Peralta Blvd., in Fremont, where the stuff of Aro culture was taking place. The place was packed and Northern Calis had begun to notice the strange faces rooted from Hollywood. Los Angeles area folks had been introduced and the disk jockey, Goddy Okereke, had begun to chant L.A. is in the house, L.A. is in the house! Booze, chating and series of introduction took its course.

The group dance was awesome and the masquerade a sense of belonging to a cultural heritage. The Abriba war dance was good, too. I enjoyed every bit of it and made a whole lot out of it tracing back to how we lived in the past. One of the locals who noticed I was not an area boy, asked if I was from Aro. "No" was my answer. I was only there to celebrate with them, courtesy of the Onyeadors, and I think I enjoyed it.