By NICK DAZANG
Benjamin Bradlee Jnr. was the swashbuckling Editor of The Washington Post (WP) in its glory days. It was on his watch that two intrepid reporters of the Post, Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein, investigated the burglary at the Watergate Hotel. It turned out that the break-in at the Democratic Party headquarters was carried out at the behest of the then President, Richard Nixon, a Republican. The outcome of the investigation, and its link to President Nixon, provoked national outrage. This, in turn, triggered frenzied impeachment proceedings that eventually forced Nixon to resign the presidency.
Before his ascension as Editor of The Washington Post, Bradlee Jnr. was a staffer at NEWSWEEK magazine (which was later acquired by the Post), and a bosom friend and neighbour of John F. Kennedy long before Kennedy became President of the United States. Upon Kennedy’s assassination, NEWSWEEK directed Bradlee to write a story about his slain friend. The assignment proved uphill and emotionally draining.
On Monday, November 17, 2025, this writer had his own Bradlee Jnr. moment. I had barely expressed gratitude to God for adding a year to my age, via a chat to a few relatives and friends, when the sad and shocking news of Mr Dan Agbese’s demise filtered in.
This promptly altered the day’s dynamic and coloration. From celebration, I entered a mourning mode. Though I had no immediate deadline dangling over my head like the Sword of Damocles, I was spurred and galvanised by his blessed memory and good works to narrate the tale of this magnificent soul.
Mr Agbese — Oga Dan, as he is fondly referred to by his adoring junior colleagues — had been, alongside Peter Enahoro, a towering inspiration. More than Mr Enahoro, Mr Agbese was a mentor. He gave me my first job as a reporter at THE NIGERIA STANDARD Newspaper. But considering my young age at the time and my modest educational attainment — I had just finished high school — he and other Editors decided to withdraw my appointment letter. They insisted that I first attend journalism school.
Even in the 1970s, when he edited THE NIGERIA STANDARD, his range, breadth, depth and urbanity were unmistakable. His sense of humour was both effusive and infectious, qualities exemplified by his Friday column, IN LIGHTER MOOD.
I took Mr Agbese’s and his colleagues’ advice in my stride. I kept the faith. I wrote for THE NIGERIA STANDARD nearly every week and for a considerable stretch of time. It became a second home, with Editors taking turns to shower me with kudos, gifts and encouragement. Many readers began to identify me with the newspaper and assumed I was already a staff member.
A distinctive editorial style at the New Nigerian
Our paths crossed again at the NEW NIGERIAN. As Editor, he distinguished himself in several ways. For want of space, I will mention only one. At the time, an Editorial Board had not been constituted. Yet he assumed the role of one — and performed it with distinction and unmatched calm.
Each Monday, he would saunter into his office clutching his portable typewriter. He would close the door behind him and rough out drafts of the week’s editorials. Thereafter, the drafts would be typeset on compugraphic machines and placed on the front-page editorial column. He would conduct a final reading, effect corrections and insist on clean copies being laid again, which he would endorse and assign. If major events unfolded that required fresh editorialising, he would set aside the earlier drafts and produce new ones.
The regimen was punishing and daunting. Most importantly, the editorials bore his unmistakable seal: resonant diction, cadence and cogent arguments. These qualities restored renewed respect and authority to the newspaper.
Unmatched brilliance at Newswatch
Mr Agbese’s profundity and brilliance came under even greater public scrutiny when he joined Dele Giwa, Ray Ekpu and Yakubu Mohammed to found NEWSWATCH magazine. He surpassed his peers by the sheer number of columns he wrote. His reflections in the prefatory treatises to the magazine’s cover stories brimmed with uncommon depth.
Indeed, he alone among his peers had the singular distinction of authoring a long essay that morphed into a full cover story. Entitled CORRUPTION, the essay became a cover feature, replicating a similar feat accomplished by the distinguished essayist, Lance Morrow. Morrow, of blessed memory, had written an essay entitled EVIL, which graced the cover of TIME magazine.
In addition to distinguishing himself through columns and reflections, Mr Agbese combined theory with practice. He authored numerous books — mainly professional handbooks on journalism practice. This was hardly surprising, given his pedigree as a Teacher and Librarian in previous chapters of his life.
Loyalty, encouragement, a quiet farewell
If Mr Agbese excelled as a journalist, he was just as devoted to his friends and colleagues. His loyalty to relationships and his steady presence in the lives of others were remarkable.
Some one and a half decades ago, he was invited to attend the wedding of the daughter of one of our senior colleagues and former Managing Director of the NEW NIGERIAN Newspapers, Mr Ndanusa Alao. To our enduring shame, Mr Agbese arrived at the church where the marriage was to be solemnised before all of us. Considering that he travelled all the way from Lagos to Kaduna — and that he was our senior by many rungs on the professional ladder — you can appreciate our embarrassment.
Beyond his fidelity to relationships, Mr Agbese was a constant source of encouragement. Only recently, after reading one of my pieces in the newspapers, he called to say I wrote in the true journalistic tradition of speaking truth to power. He urged me to “soldier on.” He further expressed relief that there were others who would carry the torch. Alas, I did not realise he was passing on a cryptic message of his impending transition — and that this would be his last call and exhortation.
Unknown to me, Mr Agbese had been unwell. When he called, he gave no indication. It was only when I noticed the absence of his columns that I sensed something was amiss. Even his stoic nephew, Andrew, who eventually informed me of his illness, framed it in a manner designed not to arouse fears of the worst.
We share in the grief of the Agbese family in Nigeria and in the Diaspora, and with the broader fraternity of Nigeria’s irrepressible journalists.
Our sorrow should, however, be assuaged by the elegance he brought to our profession through his exquisite writing and patrician carriage.
Dazang, OON, a retired Director of Education and Publicity of the National Electoral Commission, INEC, writes from Abuja, via