When Aniedi Udo-Obong tells the story of how he came into tech, it begins very physically. He shares that it all started in the family home inside a university campus, with books, teachers and an older brother who “played around with either computers, whatever they looked like back in the days.” He remembers being “born in the University of Ibadan, so UI campus,” raised in what he calls “an academic family, campus kid,” where discipline, reading and schooling were simply the air to breathe.
“I probably always wanted to be an engineer,” he says matter-of-factly. He followed that instinct into formal study: “I went on to the University of Uyo to study electrical electronics engineering.” That technical training combined with late-night tinkering in cybercafés, early CCNA studies and a messy, hands-on era of building PCs and setting up offices, shaped the practical, horizontal skillset he carries into his present role at Google.
“I did a CCNA at the time,” he recalls of those early years. “We used to do that almost to earn a living.” Those formative experiences, the cybercafé timer, the midnight installs, the modest freelance gigs, taught him a simple lesson: technology is practical before it is glamorous.
From cybercafé to Google
His path from local IT hustle to global platform took a distinct turn as community work and web development drew him into networks. “In probably 2010… I went more into things like web development,” he remembers, a period when WordPress, Drupal and early web directories captured his attention. That chapter quickly led to community building: “I started getting involved in things like open source community… Google Developer Group… conferences, meetup.”
The move into Google was another pivot: “About what, 10 years ago, I joined Google, and it was the new chapter. It was a dream come true.” His role has since allowed him to travel across Nigeria and Sub-Saharan Africa, from Sokoto and Kano to Accra and Dakar, and to see how small interventions really change lives. He tells the story that keeps him going: the random developer who once attended a meetup, then two years later appears at the airport to tell him, “That thing you talked about was so important to me… Today I work for this company.”
That multiplier effect, the invisible work of mentorship, meetups, and community networks, is central to how Aniedi thinks about impact. “Mentorship is how we multiply impact,” he says. “The real goal is to build systems that empower others to do even more.”
The diagnosis: “There’s no tech without infrastructure, there’s no tech without education”
When asked what the South-South and South-East need to become viable tech destinations, Aniedi is blunt and specific. “So there’s no tech without infrastructure, there’s no tech without education. So I would say education and infrastructure are the two most important things,” he says.
On education: he argues for scale and intention, not isolated bootcamps but systemic change. “We need more events, more training, more training programs, scholarships… tutorial centres, special schools, textbooks, whatever it is that we can get into the hands of people.” He cites examples across Africa like coding in curricula and one-laptop initiatives, noting how small early exposures can pay off decades later: “You can’t figure out the number of young people who saw a cheap laptop when they were little and got inspired to do or build something in the future for their community and eventually the world at large.”
On infrastructure, his language is practical and visceral. “We should be thinking about fibre like that,” he says, arguing that broadband should be treated as critically as roads or water. “The way we go to a place that we turn on the tap water or we put on the light, we should be able to do that with infrastructure.” He describes the frustrating reality for many developers: “Fibre is there, but it’s not working… I connected with my data, I do hotspot, I cannot upload.” For Aniedi, poor connectivity is not merely inconvenient; it’s an economic bottleneck.
Practical policy levers
Aniedi returns repeatedly to the pragmatic double solution, which is land and money. “One of the biggest, biggest challenges with any business is land,” he explains, listing how difficult it is for private actors to acquire the kind of campus space a sustainable innovation ecosystem requires. “If you’re going to be building innovation campuses… that kind of land is difficult to acquire if you’re not the government.”
He also highlights the friction in laying fibre; permits, right-of-way fees and inconsistent regulations raise costs and delay rollouts. “Some governments charge per km… In some places, you pay $1,000 per kilometre just to lay fibre.” His solution is direct: waivers and enabling policies that reduce the cost of infrastructure deployment.
And he does not shy away from money as a blunt but necessary tool. “Some of the money sometimes is either a very big high net worth investor… or a state government… At some point, it’s raw cash. No story, no big deal. Just throw cash behind, throw cash to researchers, throw cash to people that are doing something.” He frames this as a conditional, accountable investment that provides funding, sets reasonable deliverables and measures outcomes.
ALTE: Ambience, Leadership, Talent, Enablers
When Aniedi describes why Akwa Ibom can be the region’s alternative tech home, he uses an almost mnemonic framework: Ambience, Leadership, Talent, Enablers. He explains each element and why the state can leverage them.
“Ambience: we don’t have things like traffic… just the air here is cleaner… I call it clean and green,” he says, pointing to the quality of life as a competitive advantage. He credits “relatively good, relatively stable”. Leadership for infrastructure wins, such as the airport and the emerging local airline, which make travel and business easier. “We have Talent… people in remote local governments who get A1S in further mathematics… tertiary institutions… people are building innovation hubs.”
And finally, the Enablers: diaspora philanthropy, incubators, and networking platforms. “People in diaspora are giving back… doing things like scholarships, enabling laptops, mentorship,” he notes. The combination, he argues, is fertile ground if intentionally mobilised.
AKTW more than a conference
For Aniedi, Akwa Ibom Tech Week (November 3–8, 2025, at Ceedapeg Hotel, Uyo) is a tactical instrument, a way to connect dots, surface opportunities and actually move capital. “The Ibom Innovation Network runs Akwa Ibom Tech Week… we bring innovators from home and abroad, residents of the state, people from outside,” he says.
He walks through the week’s design in granular detail: Monday is for government liaison; Tuesday hosts pitch semifinals and a global virtual conference; Wednesday is a public-sector day with workshops for civil servants; Thursday and Friday are main conference days with keynotes, panels and a career fair; Saturday is DevFest by GDG Uyo which he says is “one of the best and most successful groups in the world.”
Crucially, AKTW2025 introduces a deal room and a nascent angel network. “Just as recently… we’ve got about five people who have said that they’re ready to put between ₦100,000 and ₦300,000 in businesses… There’s going to be a deal room… people are going to invest in their businesses. Some people are going to walk away with ₦1,000,000, ₦3,000,000 in investments, very little equity, but also a lot of mentorship and support.”
He frames these instruments as the missing runway for seed-stage founders, small checks, mentorship, and immediate access to networks can be transformational.
Collaboration, not mimicry
One of the thread’s most repeated themes is partnership. “We have to stop seeing each other as competitors and start seeing ourselves as collaborators in the same story,” he says, imagining a “southern innovation corridor” linking Port Harcourt, Uyo, Aba and Asaba. In his view, regional linkage not only shares resources but amplifies scale: “If we put together an event like that… some of these conversations happen on WhatsApp… finally we’re able to say, okay, can we make this an event.”
He underscores the role diaspora can play, not just as donors but as active investors, mentors and connectors. That is the precise audience AKTW invites: “We’re targeting a lot of the Diaspora audience… people in Harcourt, Enugu, Ghana, London, US… to start having conversations about what they want to see in the ecosystem.”
A closing line
When the interview winds down, Aniedi returns to a recurring, almost pastoral conviction: “We already have the talent. What we need now is consistency, to keep building, keep collaborating, keep showing up.”
He is frank about the work ahead. Two weeks to an event can be panicky, he admits. But he is also steadfast: “If we keep at it, year on year, this will get better.” That is the modest, relentless posture he models: build with honesty, scale plan, and invest in people.
If Akwa Ibom Tech Week is a test, it is one Aniedi and his peers are determined to pass. Their answer to the region’s long-running tech question is practical and unusually optimistic: prioritise education and infrastructure, lower the cost of building (land, right-of-way, permits), create predictable funding channels, and above all, connect people who are willing to teach, invest, and stay.
“The Akwa Ibom of our dreams is right here,” he says. “We just have to build it.”
