By Chinaza Victory
First of all, I am from Isiala Mbano.
Like many Imolites who have spent years outside the state, especially in Lagos, I have always carried a picture of home in my head—a picture frozen in the last time I was there.
For me, that picture was not particularly flattering.
The last time I came home before the emergence of Governor Hope Uzodimma, I remember the roads, the traffic, the potholes and the general feeling that getting from one part of Owerri to another could become an adventure of its own.
So, when I decided to travel from Lagos to Imo by road after such a long time away, I honestly did not know what to expect.
Then we arrived in Owerri.
It was already night.
And the first thing that greeted me was the Assumpta Cathedral junction.
I almost did a double take.
Where I remembered congestion, confusion and vehicles struggling to navigate the junction, there was now a flyover standing prominently over the road.
But that was not even what struck me most.
As our bus continued through Owerri that night, the streetlights came alive.
Owerri looked different.
Not perfect. Not magically transformed overnight. But different.
There was something about driving through a city that was properly lit and moving without the kind of chaos I remembered that made me start looking out of the window more carefully.
I thought to myself: When did all this happen?
The next morning, I was heading to the village.
And, to be honest, I was a little apprehensive.
I remembered Ekemele.
I remembered what some of those roads used to look like.
I remembered the potholes, the rough stretches and the kind of journey that made you mentally prepare yourself before entering the vehicle.
But then we started moving towards Isiala Mbano.
And again, I was surprised.
The road was tarred.
Smooth.
Much easier to travel on.
This was not the Imo I had stored away in my memory.
By the time I got to the village, I had started asking questions.
And perhaps the biggest surprise was that my journey was not ending with the road to Mbano.
That evening, I returned to Owerri.
The drive from Mbano to Owerri was smooth and peaceful.
Then, the next day, I went to Orlu to visit a family friend.
Again, another surprise.
Roads that I remembered differently were now well tarred and significantly easier to navigate.
At this point, curiosity got the better of me.
I started asking people: What exactly has been happening in Imo?
And that was when I discovered that the story went beyond roads.
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| Victory is the COO of Chika Dynasty Lagos |
THEN I HEARD ABOUT THE WORKERS
Someone told me that Imo State now pays a ₦104,000 minimum wage to state workers.
I honestly thought I had heard wrongly.
So I checked.
It was true.
In October 2025, the state began implementing the ₦104,000 wage for workers, placing Imo above the ₦70,000 national minimum wage and above Lagos and Rivers States that are paying ₦85,000 and ₦80,000.
That was one of those moments when you have been away for too long and suddenly realise that the place you left has been changing while you were looking elsewhere.
THEN CAME THE ELECTRICITY STORY
Then somebody told me about Orashi Electricity.
I asked, "You mean Imo is generating its own electricity?"
The answer was yes.
The Orashi Electricity Project is one of the most interesting developments I heard about during my visit.
The first phase of the project was commissioned in February 2026, with a 15-kilometre 33KV transmission line from Egbu to New Owerri, a 45-kilometre distribution network and a 15MVA injection substation designed to strengthen electricity supply around the Owerri axis. The state's stated objective is eventually to extend reliable electricity across all 27 local government areas.
And then something else caught my attention.
EEDC.
For years, electricity supply in Nigeria has been one of those things people simply learned to live with.
You get light, you celebrate.
You don't get light, you bring out the generator.
Since the arrival of Orashi, I that there appears to be a new dynamic.
EEDC have now realized they are in competition, and has changed their behaviour.
It is interesting to note, that some recent reports I've been getting from people claims that EEDC have suddenly improved their services.
Their bill is what I fear.
In September 2026, people living at Nkaramuche in Ihiagwa, Owerri West, reported receiving constant electricity through the Orashi project, describing the change as a major boost to businesses and everyday life.
For me, that was fascinating.
Because when I was last in Imo, the conversation was mostly about how bad electricity supply was.
Now I was hearing people talk about competition in electricity.
I also discovered that the regulatory landscape itself has changed. Following Nigeria's 2023 Electricity Act reforms, Imo established its own electricity regulatory framework, while EEDC's operations in the state became subject to the new state-level regulatory arrangement.
And suddenly, the whole thing made sense.
The point is not that EEDC has suddenly become irrelevant.
Far from it.
The point is that Imo is beginning to create an environment where electricity providers have to deliver.
If Orashi expands successfully, and EEDC continues improving its own service, the people ultimately stand to benefit.
That is what competition should mean.
More reliable power.
More businesses staying open.
Less money spent on diesel and petrol.
More factories able to operate.
More young people able to work.
And, hopefully, an Imo where owning a generator becomes a choice rather than a necessity.
That was not the Imo I remembered.
THEN I HEARD ABOUT HEALTHCARE
Then came another revelation.
Imo had entered the conversation about advanced medical care.
In August 2026, the state recorded its first robotic-assisted surgery at the Imo Robotics and Oncology Centre at Umuguma Specialist Hospital in Owerri.
I read that twice.
Robotic-assisted surgery in Owerri?
The same Owerri I remembered?
The place where, years ago, many people would tell you that if you wanted certain levels of specialist medical care, you should prepare to travel to Lagos, Abuja or even outside Nigeria?
Things had obviously moved.
THEN I DISCOVERED IMO DIGITAL CITY
And then somebody took me to the Imo Digital City around Egbu.
There, I saw something else I did not expect to see back home—a phone and laptop assembly operation.
The Imo Digital City reported that the Imose phone and laptop assembly plant was operating within its complex in Egbu, Owerri.
For me, that was important for another reason.
Development is not only about beautiful roads.
At some point, people have to produce things.
They have to work.
Young people have to acquire skills.
Businesses have to emerge.
Investors have to see reasons to come.
And that was when I started understanding why the government has been talking about industrialisation, digital skills and investment.
THEN I ASKED ABOUT THE PENSIONERS
This one touched me differently.
I remembered the stories of pensioners protesting.
I remembered elderly men and women standing on the streets, demanding what they had worked for.
So when I heard that the government had released billions of naira toward outstanding gratuity arrears, I had to check that too.
The government has made clearing pension and gratuity liabilities a major part of its agenda, with substantial payments announced toward outstanding obligations.
That last part is important.
Government claims and citizens' experiences do not always tell exactly the same story.
But one thing was clear from my conversations: pensions and gratuities had become a major part of the administration's agenda, rather than something that could simply be ignored.
AND THERE ARE THE ROADS
The roads were still the biggest thing I personally saw.
According to reports, the Imo government says it has delivered more than 120 roads since 2020, including major corridors such as Owerri–Orlu, Owerri–Okigwe and the Owerri–Mbaise–Obowo–Umuahia route.
And roads are not just roads.
For someone from Mbano, I understand what a good road means.
It means getting home faster.
It means farmers moving their produce.
It means traders travelling with less stress.
It means ambulances and emergency services having better access.
It means somebody who lives in the village can travel to Owerri and return without treating the journey like an expedition.
That is why the changes are more meaningful when you actually drive through them.
THERE IS MORE
I also saw the Emmanuel Iwuanyanwu International Conference Centre, the development around Sam Mbakwe International Airport, the ANOH Gas Plant, the expansion of digital infrastructure, the planned Imo State University of Innovation, Science and Technology at Omuma, and the state's efforts to attract investment and revive industrial activity.
And suddenly I understood something.
Sometimes, you don't fully appreciate what is happening at home until you leave home.
When you live somewhere every day, you see the pothole that is still there.
You complain about the road that is still under construction.
You complain about the electricity that has not reached your neighbourhood.
You complain about the government that has not done enough.
All of those concerns are legitimate.
But sometimes, the person who has been away for years comes back and notices the things that have changed because he remembers what they used to be.
That person was me.
I came home from Lagos expecting to meet the Imo I left behind.
Instead, I met an Imo that had changed considerably.
I am not saying everything is perfect.
It isn't.
There are still challenges.
There are still communities waiting for better roads. There are still people demanding more reliable electricity. There are still questions around jobs, the cost of living, security, healthcare access and the sustainability of some of these projects.
And government should always be questioned. That is part of democracy.
But I also think citizens should be honest enough to acknowledge visible changes when they see them.
I left Imo carrying an old picture of home.
I came back and discovered that the picture was outdated.
As a woman from Mbano who travelled all the way from Lagos by road, I did not need anybody to give me a speech about roads.
I drove on them.
I did not need somebody to tell me Owerri was becoming better lit.
I saw it at night.
I did not need somebody to explain that Assumpta had changed.
I passed through it.
I did not need somebody to tell me that something was happening with electricity.
I heard about Orashi.
I heard people talking about EEDC.
I heard communities talking about improved supply.
And I began to understand that perhaps the biggest change was not simply the infrastructure I could see.
It was the emergence of a new expectation:
People are beginning to expect electricity to work.
I did not leave Imo thinking everything was solved.
But I left thinking something had definitely changed.
I came back expecting to remember the old Imo.
Instead, I found myself asking questions about the new one.
And for the first time in a long time, I left my home state thinking less about what Imo used to be and more about what it could become.
That, perhaps, is the real test of any government—not the speeches made about it, but what the citizen returning home can actually see, touch and experience.
And as I drove back toward Lagos, I found myself hoping that whoever comes after this administration will not simply inherit these projects.
I hope they will build on them.
I hope they will improve what needs improvement.
I hope they will create even more jobs, better healthcare, stronger institutions, more reliable electricity and greater opportunities for our young people.
Because if there is one thing my journey from Lagos to Mbano and back taught me, it is this:
Imo has changed—and the next chapter should be about making sure that change reaches even more people.