Audu Ogbeh – The passing of an ‘Uncle’ and teacher

The nation has lost one of Nigeria’s greatest orators, an elder statesman, an excellent technocrat, an ideas man, a two-time minister of the Federal Republic, a patriot, and a politician’s politician. A man truly ahead of his time, at 34, he was Deputy Speaker of the Benue State House of Assembly and subsequently communications minister.

As the nation mourns this great man, I reminisce about our time together. For me, I simply lost an uncle, I lost a teacher, and I lost a member of my family. We lost a member of our tribe, a writer whose many writings impacted me, including his play “The Earring”, in which I acted in school. Mr Innocent Audu Ogbeh was one of those persons who, if you met him, knew him, hung around him, allowed you to be transported to a land of brilliance and ideas, and had an uncanny gift for the spoken word. Cerebral in every sense of the word, he embodied greatness and wore it like a cloak.

He was already riding a blazing orange Renault 16 TL when I first encountered him. Self-assured, confident, highly intelligent, a great dresser with good looks to boot. A rising star, he taught French, English literature, philosophy, and general studies at the Murtala College of Arts, Science and Technology, Makurdi, and he was already an orator of no mean proportion at this time.

He lived in an estate where my parents lived, and my parents talked about him without let-up. That young and promising man, they said. Focused and determined. He would go very far. I was only 15 years old, and I never forgot.

Mr Audu Ogbeh was polite and humble, an excellent bridge builder. Because of his oratorical skills, people were always drawn to him to listen to him and learn. He was loved by the entire neighbourhood and always had brilliant ideas. But above all, he was loved by his people, the Otukpa community of Benue State.

Uncle Audu, as we fondly called him then and for the rest of his beautiful life, was married to a woman who was very much after my heart. A truly gorgeous woman, a pharmacist with whom we all fell in love, Aunty Obehi. My late mum and I would visit the Ogbeh household after a birth, and their children all became members of my family.

I was 17 years old when I walked from our house with my mum to congratulate the Ogbehs on the birth of their firstborn, Adegbe. My parents, the late Mr and Mrs Amodu, became uncle and aunt to the Ogbehs, and we, on the other hand, became their wards.

I later gained admission into the Murtala Mohammed College of Arts, Science, and Technology (MUCAST), Makurdi, where Chief Audu Ogbeh became my teacher. He shone like a million stars. He fired us up to be more current affairs aware, introduced us to new and exciting books, and pointed us towards philosophers.

It was from him that I first knew of Kierkegaard, and all of us at MUCAST loved him and wanted him in our class all the time.

We had great teachers at MUCAST, all of them Chief Audu Ogbeh’s compatriots. One of them was Dr Yahaya Atanu in the sciences, who later became a minister, among other brilliant tutors.

It was a great year for me at MUCAST, doing the A-levels and learning to be independent. General Obasanjo, as military Head of State, visited our school while I was there and met the students and our teachers, some of the nation’s brightest and the best, including Chief Audu Ogbeh. It is instructive that they will both meet in the political terrain in their later years, an encounter Chief Audu Ogbeh often talks about. I would give an arm and a leg to know what they talked about that day that he came to our school in Makurdi.

I wanted an interview with Chief Audu Ogbeh for my interview collection, but Kabiru Yusuf, Chairman of Media Trust, beat me to it in that interview that has now become his last interview. But as is often said, procrastination is a thief of time. I took it for granted that because I knew him so well, because he was family, he would be around for a long time. A fallacy! When it’s time, it’s not our choice. It’s the choice of the big man who brought us forth, and as the good books say, we cannot argue.

Chief Audu Ogbeh’s family is intertwined with mine in ways that are more interesting than you can imagine.

At my wedding, 42 years ago, Uncle Audu and Aunty Obehi were front and centre, and then he became godfather to my son, Joe, with whom he shared a private joke all the time. Chief Audu Ogbeh was very funny and could crack a joke at the drop of a hat, and his laughter was truly infectious. Chief Audu Ogbeh had told my son that he had been in the same class with him. Joe was only 9 years old and believed Chief Ogbeh. Then he asked him where he sat in class, and Chief Ogbeh regaled him with a rib-cracking story about where he sat. Truly heartwarming, he called my son “my classmate” throughout his life. It is just the way he is – reaching out, mingling, and building bridges.

Chief Ogbeh was the sort of person who was always thinking ahead, always innovative, very Pan-Nigerian, and an African who believed Africa had so much to give to the world.

My thoughts and prayers are with the family of Uncle, from Aunty Obehi to his children, Adegbe, Ogwa, Ofure, and Owuno. My heart goes out to the wider Ogbeh clan. His siblings, cousins, and nuclear family.

May Uncle’s gentle soul rest in peace. Amen.