Awka is a town pregnant with possibilities, no one can yet decipher what she will deliver. Awka was part of a nexus of early settlements considered the cradle of Igbo civilization. Throughout its existence, Awka has carried the burden of Igbo history. Great men and great deeds have come from this land of manifest destiny. The forefathers of Awka bequeathed a society striding towards greatness; one to spark the eruption of modernity in the entire Igbo nation, even in Nigeria. Awka made things, manufactured things: for itself and for others near and far. Awka sustained the gods of foreign lands, equipped other peoples to build their own economies. Awka was the smithland of Igboland. Awka became the capital of a core Igbo state. It has been the inner city of Igboland from which Igbo civilization would radiate.

But look at Awka today, spent and bent in despair like a dying reed. The bearer of distant burdens has become a burden onto itself. Community leadership is diffuse and obtuse. The people are dazed and confused. The town feels abused and abandoned, lagging behind peers as a civilization, slagged for its lusterless look and musterless leadership.

But Awka has an irrepressible spirit! An inexpressible destiny! Awka will rise again! Awka will rise to the battle with a new mantle, with new clamor and renewed vigor, led by citizens with new armor and resurgent valor! The age of Awka rebirth is dawning!

Awka Times, Trumpet With Certain Sound, summons a generation primed for its time!