By CLEM OLUWOLE
Writing a tribute to someone extremely close to me for more than four decades is one of the most difficult tasks I ever undertake. I was pounding away on my laptop when a colleague sauntered into my office penultimate Monday. I barely looked up, assuming he had come to exchange pleasantries as usual. After fidgeting for a few seconds, he dropped the bombshell: Your friend, Dan Agbese, has passed away. My fingers froze and my eyes widened in disbelief.
I leaned back in my chair and then forward again as my heart gathered speed. I was not prepared for what netizens now call ‘Breaking News’. Words deserted me completely. The shock was overwhelming. Barely 48 hours earlier, the Blueprint family had woken to the sad news of the passing of our Assistant General Manager, Printing and Logistics, Alhaji Yahaya Adamu.
Remembering Yahaya Adamu
I was browsing the internet when I stumbled across Yahaya’s picture. He was no stranger to social media, so at first I thought he had posted something new. Then I realised it was Malam Ibrahim Sheme announcing his passing a few hours earlier. Malam Sheme, a media icon and pioneer editor of Blueprint newspaper, was inseparable from Yahaya — like 5 and 6 in football parlance — until the ultimate terminator silently issued Yahaya a red card on the morning of Saturday, November 15, 2025.
Permit me to still digress; I will return to Dan’s tribute later.
Yahaya was a tremendous asset to Blueprint, admired by everyone. His commitment to the newspaper’s cause was near legendary. He was a Hercules who tackled every assignment without excuses. His boss, Malam Salisu Umar, does not even entertain excuses; his philosophy is simple: “Make an effort, not an excuse.”
Although Yahaya had been battling health challenges, he refused to be knocked down. No one anticipated his passing so soon. He attended the management meeting 72 hours before his death and had politely requested that the air conditioner be turned off because it affected his breathing, which was punctuated by occasional wheezing.
Yet he still made his usual contributions, beginning every sentence with his trademark adverb: “Actually.” Despite his struggle, he insisted on travelling to Kano the following week with a colleague for an official assignment.
Yahaya will be deeply missed by the entire Blueprint family. The MD and I often teased him to exercise for weight reduction. He is finally free from that burden — and free from my teasing nickname ‘Tumbin Giwa’, meaning ‘Elephant Tummy’ in Hausa.
May his soul find peace with his Maker, and may his family, colleagues and friends find the strength to bear the irreparable loss.
A chronicle of friendship with Oga Dan
Now, back to Oga Dan.
Our paths first crossed in the early 70s when I joined the New Nigerian Newspapers (NNN) as a greenhorn. Dan was already an established staff writer. His writing style captivated me, and I soon realised we shared a remarkable affinity despite the age gap. Coming from a storytelling background, I often wrote gripping narratives without knowing how they would end — they simply flowed.
Dan and I grew closer after he read some of my sports stories and features from Zaria. His curiosity was piqued, and instead of asking where I trained, he asked where I had practised before joining the paper.
After a few years at NNN, Dan left for the University of Lagos (Unilag) to study Mass Communication.
When the Joseph Gomwalk regime established THE NIGERIA STANDARD as a weekly newspaper, some of my NNN colleagues in Jos convinced me to move from Zaria to set up the sports desk. Two years later, I was sent to the Nigerian Institute of Journalism (NIJ), Lagos, for a sub-editing course. Shortly after returning to Jos, Dan arrived, having completed his degree and NYSC in Ibadan.
He became Chief Sub-Editor, and I worked with him on the sub-desk. With my sub-editing training from NIJ, I was assigned responsibilities beyond sports. When the paper became a daily, Dan advised management to relieve me of the extra duties so I could focus on sports and maintain a column like Clement Isaiah, the father of the late Sam Nda-Isaiah. Management reluctantly agreed. One morning, Dan urged me to start my sports column, and together we birthed ‘Saturday Commentary’.
Three months later, I was appointed to the state Sports Council board — the first sportswriter to achieve such a feat. Dan insisted I must “wash” the appointment, and we celebrated over isiewu — goat head delicacy — his favourite.
Less than two years after joining THE NIGERIA STANDARD, Dan travelled to the United States for a Master’s degree at Columbia University. He returned a year later with his second degree — and a potbelly. I teased him that he was “sick” and dragged him to the Jos Race Course for jogging sessions. After three weeks, the belly vanished. His gratitude came in the form of peppered bushmeat — my favourite.
Dan’s storied journalism journey
Around 1978, Dan created the humour-laced column ‘In Lighter Mood’, an instant hit that boosted the paper’s circulation. One unforgettable piece was titled, ‘Welcome to Orokam, where palm wine is cheaper than water’. Orokam, in Otukpa LGA of Benue State, had long been plagued by water scarcity.
Dan later became editor of the daily. During the Second Republic, the NPP controlled Plateau State, while the NPN was a formidable opposition. Alhaji Abdullahi Adamu, the NPN state secretary at the time, was a master of keeping governments on their toes, and his tongue instilled fear in many. However, Dan had the “misfortune” of being Adamu’s close friend — a David-and-Jonathan-like bond.
The NPP government became uncomfortable with this friendship, even though Dan meticulously separated his professional duties from his personal ties. Some powerful figures wanted him removed. A sack letter was drafted and taken to Governor Solomon Lar, who hesitated because he admired Dan’s professional brilliance.
Eventually, the siege ended when Benue State governor, Mr Aper Aku of the NPN, appointed Dan General Manager of Radio Benue. Though I felt a deep sense of loss, Dan had left behind a “virus” — the writing gene. Since our styles were similar, though he was satirical and I witty, that virus found a host in me. Thus, I began the column, ‘The Man From PPC’, which ran weekly for nearly a decade alongside ‘Saturday Commentary’.
In the early 80s, I visited him in Kaduna, where he was editor of the New Nigerian. I had gone to request a foreword for my compilation of ‘The Man From PPC’. Surprisingly, he personally came out to usher me in, addressing me by the column’s title instead of my name. The manuscript and foreword remain preserved in my library. ‘Saturday Commentary’ was published during COJA 2003 and republished three years ago as ‘Global Sports and Other Commentaries’.
When Dan left to co-found Newswatch Magazine with Dele Giwa, Ray Ekpu and Yakubu Mohammed, I briefly considered joining him. He would have welcomed it, but my aversion to Lagos — a chaotic city in my view — discouraged me. My three months at NIJ in the early 70s had been hellish.
Everything I have written here amounts to less than 25 per cent of my professional journeys with Dan. He will receive fuller mention in my memoirs. He authored six books; I have ten, including seven works of fiction.
I join colleagues and admirers worldwide in mourning this immense loss. May God grant his vibrant soul eternal rest, and may his family — especially his spouse, Lady Rose Agbese — find strength. I still recall how resplendent she looked in her wedding gown at St Theresa’s Catholic Church, Jos, in the late 70s.
When Oga Dan arrives at the Pearly Gates — having translated to immortality and clutching his work tools — the angels should let him pass. After all, journalists are surely needed to report events in the Primordial Kingdom.
Oluwole writes from Abuja via clemoluwole@gmail.com