Table of Contents

Introduction & Background

When one speaks of Old Calabar in the 19th century, images of palm oil wealth, bustling markets, and trading ships anchored along the Cross River come to mind. But beneath this economic dynamism lay a society deeply rooted in tradition, where law, order, and spirituality were enforced not by kings alone, but by a powerful institution—the Ekpe society.

Ekpe, often called the “Leopard society,” was more than a secret cult. It was the government, the police, and the supreme court of Efik society. Its masquerades were not mere dancers in raffia but embodiments of spiritual authority. Its decrees could shut down markets, enforce debt repayment, or settle disputes that even kings dared not challenge.

When Christianity entered Calabar in 1846, it did not come into a vacuum. Missionaries arrived to preach the gospel of Christ, but they quickly realized that the true “gatekeepers” of Efik life were not just the Obong (king) and chiefs, but the Ekpe society. If Christianity was to thrive, it had to engage with Ekpe.

Interestingly, Ekpe did not meet Christianity with hostility alone. Instead, a remarkable relationship unfolded—one in which Ekpe enforced Sabbath laws, integrated Christian values into its performances, and lent legitimacy to the new faith. As Aye (1967) memorably observed, Ekpe masquerades were described as instruments that would “pursue our forefathers to church.”

This intersection of indigenous tradition and foreign religion is a story of negotiation, adaptation, and transformation. It shows how Christianity in Old Calabar did not simply crush local institutions, but instead intertwined with them, producing a unique blend of faith and culture.

Ekpe Society Before Christianity

Ekpe as the Heartbeat of Efik Governance

Long before the first white missionaries set foot in Calabar, the Efik people had already established a sophisticated system of governance. Central to this system was the Ekpe society, also known in some records as “Egbo.” The word Ekpe itself means leopard, an animal revered for its strength, stealth, and authority. Just as the leopard rules the forest with silent power, the Ekpe society ruled Efik land with unquestioned authority.

Membership into Ekpe was not open to everyone. It was graded, with several levels such as Nyamkpe, Mboko, Iboku, Mboko Eyamba, and so on. Each level carried distinct rights, duties, and access to deeper secrets. The higher one climbed, the closer one came to the hidden heart of Ekpe power. To be an Ekpe man was not only a sign of prestige but also a badge of influence, wealth, and spiritual authority.

Ekpe was also a unifying force among the Efik, Efut, and Qua peoples of the Old Calabar region. When disputes broke out between families, villages, or even rival chiefs, Ekpe stepped in as the neutral arbiter.

Ekpe as Law and Order

In the absence of police, courts, or prisons, Ekpe was the law. If a person owed a debt and refused to pay, Ekpe was invoked. Its masquerade would appear at the debtor’s compound, dancing with fearsome drumming and masked splendor, until the debt was paid. If someone committed a crime—say, theft or adultery—the Ekpe society would deliberate and mete out punishment.

Its authority was backed by fear. To defy Ekpe was to risk fines, banishment, or even death. The masquerade itself, believed to be the embodiment of ancestral spirits, struck terror into those who witnessed it. Its roaring voice, produced by a wooden drum instrument called mbokpo Ekpe, was said to be the very growl of the leopard spirit.

The people believed that when the masquerade spoke, it was not a mere human voice but that of unseen ancestors who still ruled the land. Thus, Ekpe’s power was not just political—it was deeply spiritual.

Ekpe and Spiritual Authority

Although missionaries and later colonial writers often described Ekpe as a secret society, to the Efik it was more than that. It was a bridge between the physical and spiritual worlds. The masquerades were not considered mere costumes but living channels of divine presence. When Ekpe decreed a law, it was understood that both the ancestors and the gods endorsed it.

This spiritual authority was reinforced by rituals, sacrifices, and initiation rites. Each masquerade performance carried symbolic meanings, often tied to moral lessons, warnings, or communal discipline. The drumbeats of Ekpe were messages, just as potent as the sermons that missionaries would later preach.

Ekpe and the Efik Calendar

The Efik did not originally count time by weeks of seven days, but by an eight-day cycle, known as Usio Ekpri Itiaba. This rhythm structured market days, rituals, and communal life. Ekpe was the custodian of this rhythm. Through its decrees, it could shift or halt activities on specific days.

This calendar would later become one of the first points of conflict when Christianity introduced the seven-day week, with Sunday as the Sabbath. But before the missionaries came, the people lived securely within the time system Ekpe controlled.

Folklore: The Leopard’s Voice

Among the Efik, there is a tale about how Ekpe first received its voice. It is said that in the earliest days, the leopard spirit roamed silently, feared only by sight. One day, a hunter discovered a mystical wooden drum hidden deep in the forest. When he struck it, the sound was so terrifying that animals fled and humans fell on their knees. The hunter brought it back to the elders, who declared that only the Ekpe masquerade could use it. From that day, the drum became the voice of the leopard spirit.

This folklore was more than a tale—it reinforced the belief that Ekpe was a divine inheritance, not a mere human creation.

Ekpe as Political Authority

The kings (Obong) of Calabar ruled with prestige, but they were not absolute monarchs. Their power was balanced, and in some cases checked, by Ekpe. No chief could enforce a decision without Ekpe’s backing. In fact, foreign traders from Europe—Portuguese, Dutch, British—had to negotiate not just with the Obong but also with Ekpe representatives.

Ekpe controlled trade, especially in the 18th century slave trade and later in palm oil commerce. They regulated prices, settled disputes with European merchants, and enforced commercial laws. Through this role, Ekpe ensured that the Efik retained sovereignty even in dealings with foreigners.

Why Ekpe’s Role Matters Before Christianity

Understanding the pre-Christian role of Ekpe is crucial. Christianity did not arrive in a lawless, leaderless society. It entered a world where authority was already structured, laws already enforced, and spirituality deeply embedded in everyday life.

Thus, when missionaries preached about a God who punishes sin and rewards righteousness, the Efik already understood the concept—because Ekpe had long embodied divine justice. When they spoke of observing the Sabbath as a holy day, the people also understood, for Ekpe had long enforced rest days and rituals through its calendar.

The question was never whether the Efik could understand Christian teachings. The real question was: Would Christianity be powerful enough to stand beside Ekpe, or even replace it?

Arrival of Christianity in Old Calabar

The Setting: 1840s Calabar

By the 1840s, Old Calabar had already become a well-known name along the West African coast. Situated on the banks of the Cross River, the region was a major trading hub that had grown wealthy first from the transatlantic slave trade and later from the rising palm oil trade after the abolition of slavery.

European merchants were frequent visitors. They brought rum, gin, textiles, firearms, and other goods, while the Efik supplied slaves (before 1807) and later palm oil. Alongside the wealth, however, the society was marked by entrenched practices such as twin killing, human sacrifice, and rigid traditional laws that missionaries would later seek to abolish.

Amid this backdrop of commerce, tradition, and power, the missionaries of the United Presbyterian Church of Scotland arrived in 1846. They came not only to spread the gospel but also to reform society. What they did not fully grasp at first was that they were stepping into a land ruled not merely by kings, but by the Ekpe society.

The Missionaries Arrive

The pioneer missionary was Rev. Hope Masterton Waddell, a fiery Scottish preacher. He was accompanied by Samuel Edgerley, Rev. Hugh Goldie, and later the famous Mary Slessor. Their landing at Duke Town in April 1846 was a historic moment.

They were welcomed by King Eyamba V of Duke Town, who was curious but cautious. The missionaries requested land to build a mission house and school. The king agreed—but the missionaries quickly realized that true acceptance required more than royal approval.

Behind the king stood Ekpe. Without Ekpe’s cooperation, no law could be enforced, no custom altered, and no mass movement achieved.

Early Challenges

The missionaries faced daunting obstacles:

Language Barrier – They had to learn the Efik language quickly. Rev. Goldie would later translate the Bible into Efik (1862).
Different Calendar Systems – Christianity demanded a seven-day week with Sunday as the Sabbath, but the Efik observed an eight-day cycle. To the Efik, Sunday was just another day; markets bustled, farms were busy, and people worked as usual.
Cultural Practices – Customs such as twin infanticide, human sacrifice at funerals of chiefs, and belief in ancestral spirits clashed with Christian teachings.
Suspicion of Foreigners – Many Efik suspected missionaries of being spies for British colonial authorities. Trust had to be earned.

The Clash of Calendars

Perhaps the earliest and most dramatic point of friction came with the Sabbath. Missionaries insisted that Sunday must be kept holy, a day of rest and worship. They forbade farm work, market trading, and even fishing on that day.

But the Efik, guided by their eight-day week, could not understand why Sunday should be different. If it happened to fall on a market day, then commerce continued. If it was a farming day, the farms could not be neglected.

The missionaries preached, pleaded, and warned—but many ignored them. Without an enforcing mechanism, Sunday observance was a dream.

This was when the missionaries realized something: Ekpe was the key.

First Encounters with Ekpe

Hope Waddell and his colleagues began to study the Ekpe system. At first, they feared it as a heathen, secret cult opposed to the gospel. But gradually, they noticed something deeper: Ekpe had the authority to enforce laws that everyone obeyed.

If the missionaries could persuade Ekpe leaders to enforce Sunday rest, then the people would comply.

The first negotiations were delicate. Ekpe was proud and independent; it was not accustomed to taking orders from outsiders. But the missionaries, through diplomacy and sometimes gifts, convinced certain Ekpe chiefs that supporting Christianity would strengthen their influence.

Ekpe Decrees and Sunday Observance

Historical accounts record that soon, Ekpe decrees began to support Christian demands. For example:

On Saturdays, the Ekpe drum (called Obodom Ekpe) would sound across Duke Town, Creek Town, and Henshaw Town, announcing that the next day was sacred.
Markets were shut down by Ekpe orders on Sundays. Traders who disobeyed risked heavy fines.
Farmers were forbidden from going to their farms on the Sabbath.

In effect, Ekpe enforced the missionaries’ Sabbath laws more effectively than the missionaries themselves could.

Missionaries’ Mixed Feelings

Some missionaries, like Hugh Goldie, welcomed this partnership. They saw Ekpe as a useful ally in promoting Christian discipline. Others, however, worried that Christianity was being diluted. If people went to church only because Ekpe threatened them, was their faith genuine?

Still, the results were undeniable: church attendance grew, Sunday observance spread, and the people began to respect Christian teachings.

Folk Memory: “Ekpe Pursued Our Fathers to Church”

Among Efik elders, there is a saying that “Ekpe pursued our fathers to church.” This is not just a metaphor. Oral history recounts that Ekpe masquerades would sometimes roam the streets on Sunday mornings, driving loiterers into the church. Anyone found idling outside was warned or fined.

Thus, the people came to associate Christianity not only with missionary preaching but also with Ekpe’s authority. Christianity was given a “homegrown” enforcement system.

First Conversions

By the 1850s, the first significant conversions were recorded. Children, slaves, and later even freeborn men and women were baptized. The earliest converts often faced ridicule, but with Ekpe’s gradual backing, Christianity gained respectability.

When elite families saw Ekpe supporting Sunday observance, they too began to take Christianity seriously. The church schools grew, literacy spread, and the Efik Bible translation by Goldie became a milestone.

Ekpe as Enforcer of Christianity

Ekpe’s Authority Harnessed

By the mid-19th century, it became clear to both missionaries and Efik chiefs that Ekpe was indispensable in shaping social behavior. Missionaries could preach from the pulpit, but without enforcement, their words often dissolved into the wind. Ekpe, on the other hand, spoke with the “roar of the leopard,” a sound that no Efik dared ignore.

Thus, a strange alliance emerged: while missionaries preached salvation through Christ, Ekpe ensured discipline through fines, masquerades, and decrees. Together, they reshaped Efik society.

The Sabbath as Law

The most visible example of Ekpe’s enforcement of Christian practice was the Sabbath observance. Once Ekpe issued decrees supporting Sunday rest, the people complied:

Markets Closed: Before Christianity, the Efik calendar followed an eight-day cycle. If a market day fell on Sunday, trade continued. But after Ekpe’s intervention, markets were shut down on Sundays. Traders who dared to sell risked heavy fines.
No Farming or Fishing: Farming and canoe fishing were major activities in Efik land. Once Ekpe decreed that Sunday was sacred, people stayed home. Fishermen who set nets or farmers who tilled soil on Sundays were punished.
Public Warning Drums: On Saturday evenings, the Obodom Ekpe (Ekpe drum) was sounded across towns like Duke Town, Henshaw Town, and Creek Town. This drum was not an invitation to dance, but a warning: “Tomorrow is the Lord’s Day.” The sound carried fear, for to disobey meant trouble with Ekpe.

The effect was profound. The Efik came to view Sunday not as a foreign imposition but as a law sanctioned by their own sacred society. Christianity, through Ekpe, gained legitimacy.

Ekpe Masquerades as Guardians of the Church

Perhaps the most fascinating dimension of Ekpe’s role was its use of masquerades. Traditionally, masquerades were embodiments of ancestral spirits, often deployed to discipline wrongdoers, collect debts, or announce decrees. With Christianity’s rise, the masquerades found new roles:

Driving People to Church: Oral traditions recall how Ekpe masquerades roamed the streets on Sunday mornings. Anyone found idling or engaging in forbidden labor was chased into the church. “Ekpe pursued our fathers to church” became a famous saying (Aye, 1967).
Maintaining Order During Worship: In some accounts, masquerades guarded the perimeters of churches, ensuring no disturbance occurred during worship. Their presence commanded respect, blending fear with reverence.
Preaching Through Symbolism: Some masquerade performances began to incorporate Christian themes. Instead of only dramatizing traditional myths, they warned against drunkenness, immorality, and disobedience to God’s new commandments.

Integration of Christian Messages into Ekpe

Ekpe did not disappear under Christianity; it adapted. Certain practices were infused with Christian undertones:

Proclamations: When Ekpe announced decrees, it sometimes used Christian phrases like “Ufan Abasi” (Friend of God) or referenced the new God introduced by missionaries.
Moral Discipline: Ekpe continued to fine or punish offenders, but now many of its decrees aligned with Christian ethics. For example, drunkenness, public fighting, or neglecting the Sabbath were condemned by both Ekpe and the church.
Community Rituals: In naming ceremonies, marriages, and funerals, Ekpe gradually permitted Christian prayers and hymns alongside its own rites. This coexistence softened the resistance of conservative Efik families.

Missionaries’ Reflections

The missionaries themselves were torn. On one hand, they were delighted to see their teachings take root so effectively. On the other hand, they worried about whether this was genuine faith or forced compliance.

Rev. Hugh Goldie once noted that while many Efik came to church, they often did so because Ekpe required it, not necessarily because of personal conviction. Yet, over time, what began as enforced habit slowly grew into genuine belief. Children raised in mission schools, exposed to both Ekpe discipline and Christian doctrine, developed a Christianity that felt natural to them.

A Double-Edged Sword

Ekpe’s involvement was not without tension. For some converts, the blending of masquerades and church rituals was confusing. Was Christianity truly different from Ekpe, or simply an extension of it?

Still, the pragmatic truth was this: without Ekpe’s enforcement, Christianity might have remained a marginal faith in Calabar. With Ekpe’s support, it spread rapidly across towns and villages, entering households that might otherwise have resisted.

Folklore: The Bell and the Drum

One Efik tale illustrates the fusion of Ekpe and Christianity:

When the missionaries rang the church bell for service, many ignored it, saying, “That is the white man’s sound.” But when the Ekpe drum roared, people trembled. The chiefs then declared: “Let the bell and the drum sound together.” From then on, it was said that the church bell called people to worship, but the Ekpe drum made sure they obeyed.

This story, told with humor, shows how Ekpe’s spiritual authority was welded to Christianity’s message, creating a powerful cultural partnership.

Great 🙌 Let’s continue with Part 5: Transformation of Ekpe in the 19th Century. Here, we’ll look at how Ekpe itself changed under the weight of new economic realities, missionary activity, and colonial influence — becoming not just a traditional authority, but a hybrid institution that shaped both politics and religion.

Transformation of Ekpe in the 19th Century

From Slave Trade to Palm Oil Economy

Before the arrival of missionaries, Old Calabar was already a hub of international trade. During the 18th century, the Efik were central players in the transatlantic slave trade. Efik merchants such as Duke Ephraim and King Eyamba V became wealthy middlemen, linking inland suppliers with European traders.

But by the early 19th century, Britain and other powers began abolishing the slave trade. By 1807, it was outlawed in British territories, and naval patrols made slave shipments increasingly dangerous. The Efik quickly adapted, shifting their focus to the booming trade in palm oil, used in Europe for soap, candles, and later as an industrial lubricant during the Industrial Revolution.

Ekpe was at the center of this transition. The society not only regulated trade but also enforced contracts between Efik merchants and Europeans. If a European captain cheated in weights or if an Efik trader defaulted on a debt, Ekpe intervened. Its authority was both feared and respected by Africans and Europeans alike.

Thus, Ekpe evolved from being a slave trade enforcer to a palm oil regulator, demonstrating its flexibility and political genius.

Ekpe as Political and Religious Hybrid

As the economy changed, so too did the society’s role. Christianity’s arrival in the 1840s meant that Efik politics was no longer shaped by trade alone but also by new religious values. Ekpe, always pragmatic, adapted by aligning itself with Christianity.

This alignment created a hybrid institution:

Politically, Ekpe remained the backbone of Efik governance, enforcing laws, punishing crimes, and regulating commerce.
Religiously, Ekpe became an enforcer of Christian practices like Sabbath observance, while still retaining its traditional spiritual aura.

By doing so, Ekpe did not lose its authority; instead, it rebranded itself as compatible with the new age.

Missionaries and Ekpe Chiefs: Strange Bedfellows

Missionaries quickly realized that chiefs who held high Ekpe titles were their best allies. These chiefs could pass decrees through Ekpe masquerades, compelling compliance among the masses.

For instance:

When missionaries campaigned against twin killing, it was often Ekpe chiefs who decreed punishments for violators.
When the missionaries sought to abolish human sacrifice at funerals, Ekpe leaders helped enforce the ban.

This strange partnership was not without tension, but it allowed Christianity to spread far beyond what preaching alone could achieve.

Colonial Influence

By the late 19th century, British colonial interest in Old Calabar deepened. The British were attracted not only to palm oil wealth but also to the possibility of consolidating political control.

Colonial officials saw Ekpe as both an asset and a rival. On one hand, they admired Ekpe’s effectiveness in governance and used it to enforce treaties. On the other hand, they feared its independent power and sought to weaken it by introducing European-style courts and colonial laws.

The missionaries too were conflicted. Some supported colonial policies that eroded Ekpe’s autonomy, while others lamented that weakening Ekpe might destabilize local authority structures that had supported Christianity’s growth.

Folklore: The Leopard in Chains

Efik oral tradition tells of a tale from this period:

It is said that when the British flag was first raised in Calabar, the Ekpe leopard roared in defiance. But a white man with a book and a cross came forward and chained the leopard, declaring that it must now serve a new master. Yet, the leopard was not killed. Instead, it walked beside the cross, still powerful but no longer free.

This story reflects the ambivalence of the time: Ekpe remained strong but was now tied to new forces—missionary Christianity and colonial authority.

Ekpe’s Legitimacy of Christianity

By associating itself with Christianity, Ekpe lent the new faith a form of spiritual legitimacy. To the ordinary Efik person, if Ekpe decreed that Jehovah was to be honored, then Jehovah must indeed be a great god. Christianity ceased to appear as a foreign import and instead became woven into the local fabric of authority.

For example:

When Ekpe banned Sunday trading, people did not say, “The missionaries forbid it.” They said, “Ekpe has spoken.”
When Ekpe fined drunkards or adulterers, people began to associate such discipline with Christian morality, even though it was rooted in Ekpe authority.

Thus, Christianity gained acceptance not because it replaced Ekpe, but because it worked through Ekpe.

Ekpe as Cultural Mediator

In this period, Ekpe also played a role as a cultural mediator, blending the old and the new:

Rituals: Traditional ceremonies such as weddings and funerals were increasingly conducted with both Ekpe rites and Christian prayers.
Language: Ekpe leaders sometimes used Christian terms like Abasi Ibom (God Almighty) in their proclamations, reinforcing the idea that the new God was compatible with Efik traditions.
Education: Some Ekpe chiefs supported missionary schools, realizing that literacy in Efik and English strengthened their people’s role in trade and politics.

A Society Reinvented

By the late 19th century, Ekpe had transformed from a purely indigenous political-spiritual society into something more complex:

It was still feared and respected locally.
It was a tool for missionaries to enforce Christian discipline.
It was an instrument for colonial officials to maintain order.

Ekpe, in essence, reinvented itself to survive the changing tides.

Folklore and Oral Narratives of Ekpe–Christian Encounter

The Voice of the Drum

Among the Efik, the Ekpe drum was not just a musical instrument; it was a sacred voice of authority. When the talking drum spoke, everyone knew it was Ekpe summoning, warning, or commanding. According to folklore, when missionaries first introduced the idea of church bells to call people to worship, many villagers compared them to the Ekpe drum.

One old story recounts how, in 1850, when the missionaries rang the bell for Sunday service, some Efik elders remarked:

“It is the white man’s Ekpe drum. If you hear it, you must obey.”

This symbolic parallel helped the people interpret Christianity through familiar categories: the bell was to the missionary what the drum was to Ekpe.

The Leopard at the Church Door

Ekpe was often represented by the leopard, an animal both feared and admired for its strength, cunning, and authority. A well-known folk tale describes the first time Ekpe “went to church.”

It is said that when missionaries insisted that all must attend Sunday worship, many feared that Ekpe, being a spirit of the forest, would resist. But one Sabbath morning, people claimed to see a leopard pacing near the church doors. It did not attack. Instead, it lay quietly, as though guarding the entrance.

This story was told as a sign that Ekpe itself had accepted the new faith, acknowledging the Christian God as greater yet not rejecting its own authority. It reassured the people that following Christianity did not mean betraying Ekpe.

The Masquerade That Sang a Hymn

Another oral account speaks of an Ekpe masquerade during the 1860s in Duke Town. Normally, masquerades performed dances, chants, and riddles in the Ekpe tongue. But on this occasion, the masquerade shocked onlookers by singing a Christian hymn it had overheard from the mission school children.

Witnesses whispered that this was proof that the “spirit of Ekpe” had embraced the new ways. Some elders interpreted it as Ekpe itself leading the people toward Jehovah, while skeptics argued it was merely a clever performer.

Yet the story endured, shaping how people saw the blending of old and new: Ekpe was not destroyed by Christianity; it carried Christianity within its masquerades.

The Market Woman’s Tale

A more humorous tale speaks of a market woman in Henshaw Town who resisted going to church, preferring to sell her goods on Sundays. The missionaries warned her, but she ignored them. One Sunday morning, an Ekpe masquerade appeared at the market, scattering the traders and seizing her basket of fish.

The woman cried out in protest, but the elders told her:

“It is not the white man who has forbidden trade on Sunday. It is Ekpe.”

From that day on, she attended church faithfully, saying that if even Ekpe wanted her to worship, she dared not refuse.

This story reflects the way ordinary people internalized Christianity—not as an imposition from abroad, but as a law validated by their most sacred institution.

The Myth of the Two Spirits: Ekpe and Jehovah

Some Efik folktales personified the encounter between Ekpe and the Christian God as a meeting between two spirits. One version tells of Ekpe traveling to the heavens, where it met Jehovah, the great sky god of the missionaries.

Jehovah asked Ekpe: “Why do you bind men with ropes of fear?”
Ekpe replied: “Because men are stubborn, and they obey only the sound of my drum.”
Jehovah then gave Ekpe a new task: “Use your ropes not to bind men to fear, but to bind them to righteousness.”

The story concludes with Ekpe returning to earth, transformed, now carrying both the old whip of discipline and the new book of law (the Bible).

This tale shows how people imagined the reorientation of Ekpe’s authority: from enforcing traditional taboos to enforcing Christian morality.

The Children’s Story of the Church Bell and Ekpe Drum

A lighter oral tradition tells of children debating which was stronger: the church bell or the Ekpe drum.

Some said the bell was louder, because it called even Europeans and strangers.
Others said the drum was stronger, because no one dared disobey it.
Finally, an elder declared: “The bell and the drum are brothers. One calls men to God, the other disciplines them to stay.”

This tale circulated as a parable of harmony, suggesting that Christianity and Ekpe could work together rather than against each other.

Folklore as Social Commentary

These stories were not mere entertainment. They were tools of social commentary, ways for the Efik to make sense of a world where foreign missionaries, colonial officials, and traditional institutions all competed for authority.

The leopard at the church door reassured people that Ekpe had not abandoned them.
The market woman’s tale emphasized discipline and obedience.
The two spirits myth explained why Ekpe now enforced Christian laws.

Folklore gave spiritual depth to historical change, framing Christianity’s spread not as conquest but as dialogue between the old gods and the new.

A Living Memory

Even today, among the Efik and neighboring Ibibio, proverbs and stories still reference this era. Elders say:

“Ekpe does not sleep; it only changes its cloth.” (Meaning Ekpe adapted to new realities.)
“The bell and the drum are both voices of God.” (Meaning tradition and Christianity can coexist.)

These sayings show how the memory of Ekpe’s role in the propagation of Christianity has remained alive, passed down through oral culture.

Cultural Integration and Adaptation

Christianity as a New Garment on Old Institutions

When Christianity first entered Old Calabar, missionaries imagined it as a radical break from the past. They believed people would abandon Ekpe rituals, Efik customs, and indigenous practices entirely. But the Efik did not see things that way. To them, Christianity was not a replacement—it was a new garment worn over old institutions.

Ekpe itself symbolized this adaptability. As the leopard changes its spots when the sun moves, so did Ekpe shift its role. By enforcing Christian morality while retaining its masquerades, secret rites, and authority, Ekpe ensured that tradition was not lost but rebranded in a Christian language.

Marriage: Between Ekpe and the Church

Marriage was one of the clearest arenas of cultural blending.

Traditionally, Ekpe and the extended family regulated marriage, with bridewealth payments, rituals, and feasts. A groom’s status in Ekpe often determined the prestige of his union.
With the arrival of Christianity, church weddings introduced vows, white dresses, and biblical blessings.

But in practice, both systems worked together:

An Efik man could not marry without satisfying the traditional requirements of his family and Ekpe.
Yet, if he wanted social prestige in the new Christian order, he also needed a church wedding.

Thus, couples often had two ceremonies: one in the Ekpe-regulated traditional way, and another in the church. Missionaries frowned on this, but families considered it necessary.

A common saying emerged:

“Ekpe ties the rope, the church gives the blessing.”

Funerals: Death Between Two Worlds

Funerals were another site of adaptation. In pre-Christian Efik culture, funerals were deeply spiritual: sacrifices, masquerade displays, and Ekpe rituals honored the dead and ensured safe passage to the spirit world. Chiefs and Ekpe members especially received elaborate funerals.

Christianity discouraged practices like human sacrifice and certain ritual killings, but it could not erase the need for communal mourning and display. Instead, funerals became hybrid events:

Church services with hymns and sermons would be held in the morning.
Ekpe masquerades and traditional drumming would follow in the evening.

The dead were honored by both Christ and the ancestors.

One missionary complained in his journal that “after preaching Christ at the grave, I heard the roar of Ekpe and the laughter of masquerades.” But to the Efik, this was not contradiction; it was harmony.

Festivals and Sacred Days

The Efik calendar had its own rhythm, marked by an eight-day week and Ekpe-controlled festivals. Christianity, however, introduced the seven-day week with Sunday as the holy day.

Initially, this clash created confusion. Some resisted abandoning the Efik calendar, while missionaries insisted on the Sabbath. Ekpe resolved the matter by enforcing Sunday rest through masquerade decrees. Markets were shut down, work was forbidden, and offenders were fined.

But festivals remained a shared space. Christmas, for instance, was soon celebrated with Ekpe drumming and masquerades, giving the holiday a distinctly Efik flavor. To this day, in Calabar, Christmas festivals feature masquerades—a living symbol of that cultural fusion.

Language: The Meeting of Word and Spirit

Language was another site of integration. The missionaries translated the Bible into Efik, recognizing that the gospel could only spread if spoken in the people’s tongue.

But Efik itself carried the echoes of Ekpe. Ekpe proverbs, metaphors, and idioms entered into Christian preaching. For example:

A preacher might say: “The voice of Jehovah is stronger than the Ekpe drum.”
Or: “As Ekpe binds the debtor, so Christ binds us with love.”

This blending made Christianity less foreign and more familiar.

Even in written Efik, the missionaries borrowed Ekpe-influenced terms, embedding the society’s linguistic heritage in the new Christian texts.

Education and Literacy

Missionary schools in Duke Town and Creek Town became centers of literacy and Western knowledge. But they did not erase Ekpe values. Many students who learned to read and write later became Ekpe initiates, blending literacy with traditional authority.

For example, Chief Eyo Nsa, an Ekpe leader, encouraged his children to attend mission schools while remaining committed to Ekpe traditions. This created a generation of Efik elites who could negotiate with Europeans in English, lead prayers in church, and still command Ekpe masquerades.

Thus, education became not a rejection of Ekpe but an extension of its authority into the new age.

Morality and Discipline

Christianity introduced new moral teachings—on monogamy, temperance, honesty, and Sabbath-keeping. Missionaries worried these would clash with Efik customs. But Ekpe took on the role of enforcer of Christian morality:

Drunkenness was punished with Ekpe fines.
Sabbath-breaking was punished by masquerade raids.
Adultery was condemned both by Ekpe and the church.

To the people, these were not separate rules. They were one law, expressed through two voices: the voice of Ekpe and the voice of the Bible.

Syncretism as Survival

What emerges from all this is not a story of Christianity conquering tradition, nor of Ekpe resisting Christianity, but of syncretism—a blending of faiths.

The Efik did not abandon Ekpe; they reinterpreted it.
They did not reject Christianity; they reshaped it into an Efik form.

As one elder put it in the late 19th century:

“We worship God with two hands—one holds the Bible, the other beats the drum.”

This syncretic approach ensured that the Efik identity was preserved even as Christianity spread.

Long-Term Impact

By the late 19th century, Old Calabar had become one of the most Christianized regions of West Africa. Yet its Christianity bore the unmistakable stamp of Ekpe.

Churches often scheduled services around Ekpe festivals.
Masquerades became symbols of Christian celebration.
Efik identity continued to thrive, even under missionary and colonial pressures.

This cultural integration remains visible today in Calabar festivals, in the language of Efik sermons, and in the continuing reverence for Ekpe as both a cultural and spiritual institution.

Tensions and Criticisms

Missionary Suspicion of Ekpe

From the very beginning, missionaries had an ambivalent relationship with Ekpe. On one hand, they depended on it to enforce Sabbath laws, control social order, and legitimize Christianity. On the other hand, they were deeply troubled by its secrecy, rituals, and spiritual claims.

Missionaries such as Hope Waddell and Hugh Goldie wrote in their journals that Ekpe was both a “helpful tool” and a “heathen obstacle.” To them, Christianity demanded full allegiance to the Bible, whereas Ekpe continued to hold its members in bonds of loyalty and fear.

In fact, some missionaries described Ekpe as a rival church—a powerful spiritual institution that competed with Christianity for the souls of the Efik.

Conflict Over Rituals and Secrecy

One of the biggest points of tension was Ekpe’s secrecy. Only initiates could understand its inner workings, its rituals, and its coded drum language. Missionaries, who believed in openness and the universal message of Christ, were uncomfortable with such exclusivity.

They accused Ekpe of keeping people “in bondage.”
They criticized its initiation rites as pagan and wasteful.
They worried that converts could not truly serve Christ if they still obeyed Ekpe commands.

But the Efik saw things differently. To them, Ekpe was not a rival religion—it was the foundation of law and society. A man could go to church in the morning and attend an Ekpe meeting in the evening without feeling conflicted.

Disputes Over Funerals and Ancestors

Funerals became a flashpoint of tension. Missionaries strongly opposed practices such as:

The slaughter of animals for the dead.
The involvement of masquerades in mourning rituals.
Libations and offerings to ancestors.

But families insisted these were essential to honoring their loved ones. Even Christian chiefs sometimes insisted on Ekpe rites at their funerals.

In one recorded case, a chief who was a baptized Christian demanded before his death that his funeral include both a church service and an Ekpe masquerade. The missionaries reluctantly agreed, but later complained in their records that the “din of drums drowned out the hymns.”

Such tensions revealed how deeply rooted Ekpe traditions were, even among Christians.

Clash with Colonial Authorities

When Britain began to exert stronger control in the late 19th century, colonial officials also grew uneasy about Ekpe’s power.

On one hand, they admired Ekpe as a “native police force” that maintained order.
On the other hand, they feared its independence and secrecy, which threatened colonial law.

By the 1890s, British administrators began introducing colonial courts and laws to weaken Ekpe’s grip. They tried to replace masquerade decrees with written legal codes.

But the people often ignored colonial laws unless Ekpe also endorsed them. For example, if a colonial court fined a debtor, the debtor might laugh it off. But if Ekpe enforced the same ruling, with masquerades chasing the debtor through the streets, compliance was immediate.

This made colonial officials resentful of Ekpe’s continued dominance.

The Missionary–Colonial Dilemma

Interestingly, missionaries and colonial officials sometimes disagreed on how to handle Ekpe.

Some missionaries, though suspicious of Ekpe, recognized that it was essential for social order and Christian discipline. They were pragmatic allies.
Colonial officials, however, increasingly wanted to centralize authority under British control, which meant reducing Ekpe’s influence.

This created awkward tensions. In some cases, missionaries defended Ekpe’s usefulness, while colonial officers sought to suppress it. In other cases, missionaries condemned Ekpe as “idolatrous,” while colonial officers praised it as an efficient tool of governance.

Resistance Within Ekpe

It must also be noted that not all Ekpe leaders embraced Christianity. Some resisted, fearing that the new religion would weaken their spiritual authority.

Certain chiefs delayed the enforcement of missionary rules, preferring to protect traditional customs.
Some masquerades mocked Christianity in their performances, ridiculing European clothing or imitating the sound of church bells.

There were even reports of Ekpe decrees being used to challenge missionary interference—for example, forbidding certain mission schools from opening in villages without Ekpe approval.

Thus, Ekpe was not always a willing partner; it was also a negotiator and sometimes an opponent.

The People Caught in Between

For ordinary Efik men and women, these tensions were confusing. They respected their missionaries, feared their colonial rulers, but above all, they obeyed Ekpe. Many lived with a dual loyalty, balancing church attendance with masquerade obligations.

A popular saying from the time captured this dilemma:

“The Bible speaks by day, Ekpe speaks by night.”

This proverb reflected the way Christianity and Ekpe divided life into two overlapping but not identical spheres.

Criticisms From Outside

Criticism of Ekpe also came from outside Old Calabar. European observers often portrayed it as a “secret cult of terror.” Traders complained that Ekpe levies and fines interfered with commerce. Some neighboring groups accused the Efik of using Ekpe as a tool of domination.

Yet despite these criticisms, Ekpe endured, adapting to every challenge.

The Larger Picture of Tension

To sum up, the relationship between Ekpe, missionaries, and colonial powers was a triangle of tension:

Missionaries needed Ekpe but distrusted it.
Colonials admired Ekpe’s order but feared its independence.
Ekpe itself embraced Christianity selectively but resisted total control.

This tension was not destructive; it was creative. It forced constant negotiation, which ultimately shaped the unique form of Christianity that grew in Old Calabar—a Christianity deeply Efik in spirit.

Legacy & Conclusion

Ekpe’s Survival in a Christian Era

By the close of the 19th century, Old Calabar had been transformed. Christianity was no longer a fragile mission experiment—it had become the dominant religion, with schools, churches, and a growing number of baptized Efik men and women. Colonial law courts were replacing traditional arbitration, and English literacy was spreading.

Yet, despite all these changes, Ekpe survived. Not only did it survive, it adapted so thoroughly that even in the 20th and 21st centuries, Ekpe remains central to Efik identity.

Why? Because Ekpe had mastered the art of reinvention:

In the age of the slave trade, it was the enforcer of commerce and law.
In the palm oil era, it became the regulator of trade and mediator with Europeans.
In the Christian age, it reshaped itself as the enforcer of morality and discipline.
Under colonial rule, it retained grassroots loyalty even as courts tried to undermine it.

Ekpe’s legacy lies in this chameleon-like adaptability, allowing it to remain relevant in every historical era.

Christianity With an Efik Accent

Christianity in Old Calabar never became a mere copy of European religion. It became a localized faith, shaped by Ekpe’s rhythms and authority.

Sunday observance: Though a Christian idea, it was enforced through Ekpe masquerades.
Christian festivals: Christmas and Easter absorbed the color and spectacle of Ekpe masquerades.
Discipline: Church rules gained weight because Ekpe stood behind them.
Language: Biblical teaching was expressed in Efik idioms, many of which had Ekpe roots.

Thus, Christianity wore an Efik face and voice. It was not a foreign imposition but a faith embedded in local tradition.

Modern Calabar: The Bell and the Drum

Today, in modern Calabar, echoes of this history remain.

During Christmas festivals, Ekpe masquerades parade the streets alongside church choirs.
Politicians and elites still seek Ekpe titles, even while attending church services on Sundays.
Funerals often combine church sermons with traditional masquerade displays.

This coexistence shows that the “two voices”—the church bell and the Ekpe drum—continue to speak side by side.

Ekpe as Cultural Heritage

In the 21st century, Ekpe has also become a symbol of cultural pride and heritage. It is central to the famous Calabar Carnival, Nigeria’s biggest cultural festival. Tourists watch the Ekpe masquerades with awe, unaware that these performances once carried laws and commands as binding as government decrees.

Ekpe is also celebrated as part of Efik identity, preserved by the Obong of Calabar and Efik cultural associations at home and abroad. Its influence on music, art, and storytelling remains profound.

Lessons From Ekpe’s Role in Christianity

The story of Ekpe and Christianity in Old Calabar offers broader lessons about cultural change:

Indigenous Institutions Matter – Missionaries could not succeed by ignoring or destroying Ekpe. They had to work through it. This shows that true transformation must respect local institutions.
Syncretism, Not Replacement – Christianity did not erase Ekpe. Instead, the two merged, producing a hybrid faith that was both Efik and Christian.
Authority Beyond the Church – The success of Christianity in Old Calabar was not due only to preaching or schools, but to the way Ekpe enforced and legitimized Christian rules.
Cultural Resilience – Ekpe’s ability to survive slavery, missionary pressure, and colonial suppression demonstrates the resilience of African institutions when they adapt creatively.

Folklore Lives On

Even in oral tradition, the legacy is preserved. Elders still repeat sayings like:

“The bell and the drum are brothers.”
“Ekpe does not die; it changes its cloth.”

These proverbs remind the younger generation that Christianity in Calabar was never a story of cultural erasure—it was a story of negotiation and adaptation.

Conclusion: The Leopard and the Cross

If one were to capture the legacy of Ekpe in a single image, it would be the image of the leopard standing beside the cross.

The leopard, fierce and proud, represents Ekpe—the guardian of Efik tradition. The cross, simple yet powerful, represents Christianity—the new path introduced by missionaries.

In Old Calabar, the leopard was not slain by the cross. Instead, it walked beside it, lending its strength and authority to a new spiritual journey.

Because of Ekpe, Christianity in Old Calabar was not a fragile plant uprooted by foreign soil. It was a tree that took root deeply in Efik land, nourished by the traditions and authority of its people.

And so, the story of Ekpe and Christianity is not one of opposition, but of partnership—an unusual, sometimes tense, but ultimately transformative partnership that shaped the history, culture, and faith of Old Calabar.