“Koko. Like a knock on the head”.
Writing on communal clash in a village called Koko in Kebbi State…. “The muckrakers. They are all over the place”. Writing on the politicians rising up in the Second Republic in Nigeria. “Abuja is an unlucky city. Shortly after it was chosen as the nation’s new capital, the nation was informed by the gurus of medicine and health that it is the home of river blindness. They failed. After all, officialdom is not averse to seeing Nigerians go blind…”men and women are the players, actors and actresses of memorable play or a tragedy…”
There are dozens of similar crispy, one-word-sentence, decorative, creative, rhythmitic constructions of words that turned out to be the trademark of Dan Agbese, the man I prefer to call “wordsmith”. He was just a few of the writers across the country that I admired and, in fact, tried to take after in my over 40 years professional impute, not only in journalism/writing but also in the re-engineering of styles.
To think that Agbese, my mentor who virtually, I dare say, discovered me as a promising reporter in 1981, is dead!!!
Of course, there’s no doubt that, for one, in the fast lane world we live now, especially in Nigeria, to die at the ripped age of 81 should be a thing to celebrate (life). But like humans that we are, it is grieving to find out that Agbese had finally joined other mortals that have exited the physical world. The roles he played in my life, especially as a reporter/writer sprouting out from the buds are mouthwatering and interesting.
In 1980, after obtaining a diploma in journalism and certificate in News Reporting from the Jos study centre of the Nigerian Institute of Journalism, Lagos, I was first employed briefly on freelance basis as announcer at the Kaduna State radio station, located around Kaduna main market. Not quite two months later, I switched over to a weekly newspaper called Spectator, published by Lawrence Obaje, who was just coming from The PUNCH newspaper.
While reporting for the Spectator, I came across an advertisement in the Nigerian Standard newspaper, published in Jos, the Plateau State capital, and I promptly applied for the post of Reporter. A week later, I was invited for an interview in Jos. On the day of the interview, Agbese and another doyen of journalism, Razak Aremu took charge. On the panel of the interview too were George Ohemu (Editor-in-Chief), Alhaji Yahuza Makongiji (Editor of the Sunday Standard), Chris Anana (the Group News Editor) and Mafulu Lek as Secretary. One thing led to the other, Agbese could not hide a kind of special interest in me. I actually didn’t know what he saw in me. Eventually, I was one of the six people (three indigenes of Plateau State and three none indigenes — Godwin Udeagwu, Yusuf Ozi-Usman and Tunde) who were eventually employed, out of 35 people that attended the interview.
Agbese called me and gave direct instruction to me to return to Kaduna to assist the state editor, Chris Abba. I was specifically assigned to cover the state House of Assembly, presided over by Alhaji Mamman Danmusa of the National Party of Nigeria (NPN). The state Governor was Alhaji Balarabe Musa of the People’s Redemption Party. I proved my mettle in the coverage of the legislature, especially in the heat of the move by the NPN-dominated House of Assembly to impeach the governor.
At that time, my life was being threatened by Danmusa because the Nigerian Standard obviously stood by the governor in the feud, Agbese sent a company vehicle to move me, in the midnight, to Jos. That was the day I was to be killed by political thugs, based on the impeccable information Agbese got from the grapevine. He saved me from death at that very point in 1981. That was how I ended up being transferred to Jos.
Again, when Agbese moved to the New Nigerian newspapers as the Editor of the daily, he searched for me. The editorial leadership of the Nigeria Standard had earlier transferred me to Kano to take over from Emma Agbegir as state editor. Agbese insisted that I should be employed after an interview which he invited me to attend in Kaduna. He retained me in Kano to be assisting Abdulhamid Babatunde. Agbese and A. B Ahmed, who was the editor of the Sunday New Nigeria, relied, and in fact, put pressure on me to be turning in breaking or exclusive news from Kano for front page lead. I was knowingly or inadvertently turned into not just reporter but also an investigating officer. I gradually became a nightmare to people in the state government, especially those with skeleton in their cupboard. The state Military Administrator, Colonel Dominic Oneya would not feel comfortable anytime I attended any state house function.
In the milieu of digging for news — away from the surface — I clashed with the military authorities. Many people, including some colleagues believed or mistook me to be a secret service agent. I made a lot of enemies and pretentious or fake friends. There were others who openly avoided me like a leper.
By the time my cup was full in 1987, the Federal Government, led by General Ibrahim Babangida, grabbed me by the jugular and threw me into detention at Ilaro prison in Ogun State over an innocent story on the wife of the President.
As at that time, Agbese had left the New Nigerian newspaper to co-found the famous Newswatch. My arrest and detention came less than a year after Dele Giwa was bombed out of existence by unknown murderers. So, I became virtually an orphan without Agbese, who was always there for me because he understood me more than any other person.
He was there for me when General Sani Abacha, the then Chief of Army Staff, ordered my arrest, in gestapo style and detention over an investigative news I published in the Sunday New Nigeria about the illegal transportation of vegetable oil in several trailers. Agbese and A. B. Ahmed were there for me when gun-blazing mobile police officers whisked me to Kaduna and dumped me in the prison there over a story I wrote and published in the Sunday New Nigeria about police officers collaborating with armed robbers in Kano to kill the husband of a woman who had just put to bed. It was during the era of dreaded Decree No. 4. Agbese was there for me when Oneya ordered my arrest over a story I wrote and was published in the Sunday New Nigeria on the deceptive commissioning of borehole for the residents of Achika village; the residents that had never seen modern water system.
When I was released from the General Ibrahim Babangida strangle hold towards the end of November in 1987, Agbese was among the first persons that sent a letter consoling me, giving me encouragement.
Part of the content of his six-paragraph letter to me, dated 22 December 1987, goes thus: “I am particularly delighted that you have regained your freedom. Accept my congratulations for your release and my sympathy for what you went through. As you very well know, this is part of the hazards of journalism. I hope that your experiences will give you the courage to stick to your profession and to determine to make positive contributions to the society and the profession… Warm regards”.
Agbese tried all he could to get me into the Newswatch magazine, especially after the management of the New Nigerian newspapers (owned by the Federal Government) expectedly threw me out of job without giving me the opportunity of defending myself over what led to my 90-day detention in Ilaro prison. For one reason or the other, the job offer in Newswatch did not click. He however introduced me to May Ellen Ezekiel, who offered me a freelance writing job, though with some monthly retainer income.
My last encounter with Agbese was early last year when I begged him to write a foreword to a memoir of mine I was putting together. It is all about what my investigative journalism had caused me, snowballing into my 90-day detention by Babangida. He was so happy that I wanted to involve him and asked me to forward the draft to him. When I was done, I forwarded the draft in a folder to his WhatsApp contact, but never heard from him thereafter despite several attempts to get him. I tried to visit him in the last place I met him in Gwarimpa, Abuja but could not trace the house.
And, on Monday, 17 November 2025, instead of the foreword he promised to write for my memoir, what I got was a message that Dan Agbese was dead!
Cruel!!!
Ozi-Usman is Editor-in-Chief of Greenbarge Reporters online newspaper
