Celebrating Life of Courage, Sacrifice, Loyalty

Ahmed Alaofin

My dear Toba Joel Ajiboye (Toba Ijaya), from my earliest memories, I affectionately called you “Bdá Joel,” a Yoruba expression of respect for an elder brother. Your mother, whom I fondly called “Maami,” became a mother to me as well. Whenever my biological mother was unavailable, she lovingly took charge of my care. Having spent most of my childhood with Maami in your family compound at Idi-Oro, Mushin, we grew up more like brothers than cousins. We shared the same home, the same experiences and, ultimately, the same dreams.

Even as a young student at Nigeria Model High School, your exceptional courage was evident. You were never one to keep silent in the face of injustice. Your first public struggle was against the high-handedness of one of the teachers at the school, a defining moment that revealed your lifelong determination to stand up for those who could not defend themselves.

That passion for justice eventually led you to the Oodua People’s Congress (OPC). You committed yourself wholeheartedly to the organisation’s cause and quickly distinguished yourself through uncommon courage, discipline and loyalty. Your dedication earned you widespread respect and propelled you into prominence within the movement. You became one of the trusted foot soldiers responsible for the protection of Otunba Gani Adams, now the Aare Ona Kakanfo of Yorubaland, who led one faction of the OPC.

Your influence and stature within the organisation became so significant that the late Dr. Frederick Fasehun, who led the rival OPC faction, once confided in me that he regretted losing you to the Gani Adams camp. I remember this vividly because it was during a period when I was trying to broker peace and reconciliation between both of you. That conversation spoke volumes about the value others placed on your courage, leadership and commitment.

Your fearless disposition also transformed our own community. Through your audacity and determination, you liberated us from the grip of Comrade Femi Jplum, whose influence had long dominated the area. More importantly, you led relentless campaigns against the notorious armed robbers who terrorised Mushin, particularly the Idi-Oro axis. Alongside your fellow OPC members, you confronted these criminals and successfully flushed them out of their notorious hideout in Akala. Many residents slept peacefully again because of the sacrifices you and your colleagues made.

Leadership was never something you desperately sought. Rather, it found you. Your courage, intelligence, fairness and ability to inspire loyalty naturally elevated you into positions of authority. However, as your influence continued to grow, it also attracted opposition from some established leaders who perceived your rise as a threat. Among them was Baba Alado of Mushin. What followed was one of the most turbulent periods of your life, as fierce rivalries escalated into a brutal gang war that nearly claimed your life.

Those were dark days that none of us who lived through them can ever forget. You and your loyal followers became constant targets. I, too, was drawn into the storm because of my unwavering support for you. We lived under the constant fear of attack or arrest. Our movements became severely restricted as powerful forces, including elements within the police, were allegedly used against you.

Eventually, you were arrested and charged with offences you did not commit. You spent close to a year on remand at Ikoyi Prison while your case progressed through the courts. It was an emotionally draining period for everyone who loved you including me.

During that difficult time, I almost lost my job at TVC because I made it a priority to visit you at Ikoyi Prison almost every day. I also attended virtually every court hearing, refusing to abandon you when so many others had already done so. There were moments when we genuinely wondered whether you and your loyal supporters would survive the relentless persecution. Yet, through resilience, faith and determination, you overcame every obstacle. You endured the trials, reclaimed your freedom and emerged stronger than many believed possible.

Looking back today, I see a man who never allowed adversity to define him. You stood firm in your convictions, defended those who depended on you and remained steadfast even when the odds were overwhelmingly against you. That courage remains one of the greatest legacies you have left behind.

There came a time when many sought to define you by the labels others placed upon you. As the saying goes, “give a dog a bad name and hang him.” You were branded with names that did not reflect the man I knew. Gradually, you became an outcast in the eyes of many. Some who had once professed loyalty abandoned you, shifted their allegiance to rival camps, or simply disappeared out of fear for their own safety.

For me, however, there was nowhere else to go. Blood is indeed thicker than water. Beyond being my cousin, you were my brother, my source of protection and one of the greatest blessings Allah bestowed upon me. Standing by you was never a difficult decision; it was simply the right thing to do.

I vividly remember one encounter with CSP Abba Kyari, OC SARS, one of the prosecuting officers handling your case. He questioned why I continued to associate with you despite the criminal allegations against you. Without hesitation, I replied that you were not a criminal. I told him that your greatest “crime” was your membership of the Oodua People’s Congress (OPC) and your unwavering resolve to confront injustice and oppression. I refused to judge you by the accusations of others because I knew the content of your character far better than those who merely knew your reputation.

Although we were cousins, the bond we shared was stronger than that of many biological brothers. You cared for me with uncommon affection and generosity. During the years I lived with you—first at the family house in Agbo’le, Idi-Oro, and later at Aguda in Surulere—you treated me not merely as a younger relative but as your own child.

As a bachelor, you would often prepare our meals yourself. Even after you got married, nothing changed. There was a period in my life when work was slow and I was struggling financially. Despite having your own family responsibilities, you continued to care for me without hesitation. Every evening, I would eat in your home, and you even gave me a daily allowance to cover my feeding and other basic needs. Those acts of kindness remain permanently engraved in my heart.

Your generosity extended to every significant milestone in my life. When I got married, you played a pivotal role in making the ceremony a success, providing financial support, resources and encouragement whenever they were needed. You celebrated my victories as though they were your own.

You were equally instrumental in shaping my educational journey. It was you who encouraged me to enrol at the Federal Technical College, Yaba, where you had earlier studied Furniture Craft. You bought my application form, guided me through the admission process and assisted me in preparing for the entrance examination. Later, when I enrolled at the Nigerian Institute of Journalism, you got interest loan to pay my school fees without hesitation.

Indeed, my international journey cannot be told without mentioning your name.

When I informed you about an opportunity to attend a programme at the University of Missouri School of Journalism in the United States, I had already resigned myself to missing it because I simply could not afford the cost. I told you I had no choice but to let the opportunity slip away.

You immediately looked at me and said, “Lemmy, how can you allow such an opportunity to pass you by? This is your chance to obtain a U.S. visa and earn a certificate from a prestigious American institution.”

I explained that the financial requirement—about $7,000—was far beyond my reach.

Without a moment’s hesitation, you replied that if money was my only concern, then I should stop worrying. You assured me that you would do everything within your power to make it happen, even if it meant reaching out to friends and associates to raise the funds, because you could not provide the entire amount alone at the time. You instructed me to return to my office at TVC and formally indicate my interest in the programme.

At first, it sounded almost impossible. But then the impossible began to happen.

You paid the initial tuition deposit of $1,000, a payment that became the turning point in my application and eventually enabled me to secure my very first United States visa. As if that were not enough, you later surprised me with a credit alert of ₦200,000 for my flight ticket.

The rest, as they say, is history.

You became the man through whom Allah opened the doors of international opportunities for me. Every journey I have made abroad carries your fingerprints.

Even afterwards, your generosity never diminished. Whenever I travelled to the United States—whether the trip was fully sponsored by my employer, ARISE News Channel, or not—you would still send money into my account simply to ensure I lacked nothing. You never stopped looking after me, never stopped believing in me, and never stopped investing in my future.

For all of this and much more, I remain eternally grateful. Your love was unconditional, your generosity extraordinary, and your sacrifices immeasurable. Your absence has left a void that words can scarcely describe, but your kindness and the countless lives you touched will forever remain your enduring legacy.

As the years passed, your life took on a remarkable trajectory. Your influence grew far beyond what any of us could have imagined. You became widely known and highly respected, and your network of relationships spread across every corner of Lagos. To our family, you were a source of immense pride. Your name opened doors, your influence created opportunities, and your goodwill became a powerful instrument through which countless lives were positively transformed.

The nicknames by which people knew you each told a story about the different dimensions of your life and character.

You were called “Ijaya” because of the fear your name inspired among hardened armed robbers and violent criminals. They knew you were uncompromising in your determination to rid our communities of criminality, and they feared the consequences of crossing your path.

Yet, beyond the fearless image that many associated with you, there was another side to your personality. You earned the name “Peace Maker” because you delighted in reconciling differences, building bridges where divisions existed and bringing warring individuals and groups together. Whenever conflict arose, you preferred dialogue to violence and reconciliation to revenge. You understood that true strength was measured not only by the ability to fight but also by the wisdom to restore peace.

Another name that became synonymous with you was “Original Solution.” It was a title you earned because of your remarkable resilience in the face of seemingly impossible situations. No challenge was ever too great for you to confront. You possessed an uncommon ability to find practical solutions where others saw only obstacles. Whether the problem involved an individual, a family or an entire community, you approached it with determination, resourcefulness and unwavering confidence. By the grace of Almighty Allah, your efforts were more often than not crowned with success. It was this extraordinary gift for solving problems and bringing hope where there was despair that earned you the enduring nickname, “Original Solution.”

You also became known as “Baba Eko,” a title that reflected the extraordinary breadth of your influence. Your relationships, goodwill and reputation extended throughout Lagos State. There was hardly a community, neighbourhood or corner of the city where your name was not recognised or where you did not have friends, associates or people whose lives you had touched in one way or another.

To me, however, you were much more than the names and titles people gave you. You were a man of uncommon courage and conviction—bold yet compassionate, intelligent yet humble, influential yet approachable, generous beyond measure and fiercely loyal to those you loved. You possessed a rare combination of strength and kindness that made you truly exceptional.

Today, I mourn not only the loss of a brother but the loss of a confidant, a mentor, a benefactor and one of the greatest pillars in my life. I have lost a rare gem whose place can never truly be taken. Yet, as believers, we submit to the decree of Allah, knowing that He alone gives life and He alone takes it away. Indeed, Allah knows best.

Your departure has left a void so profound that I wonder whether anyone among us will ever be able to fill the space you occupied. The vacuum you have left in our family, our community and in the lives of the countless people you helped is immeasurable. Your passing is not only our personal loss; it is a loss to all who knew your generosity, your courage and your unwavering commitment to others.

As we grieve, we also take comfort in the memories of a life lived with purpose, sacrifice and service. Your kindness, your loyalty and the countless lives you touched will continue to speak long after you are gone. Those are the legacies that death can never erase.

May Almighty Allah grant us the strength and fortitude to bear this immense loss. May He comfort our hearts, and decree what is best according to His perfect wisdom. Though you are no longer with us in this world, your memory will forever remain alive in our hearts.

The man whose name once inspired both admiration and fear across communities ultimately met the fate that no amount of influence, loyalty or human power can prevent. The empire you spent decades building, the countless followers who stood by you, the powerful allies you cultivated and even the formidable reputation you earned could not stand against the decree of Almighty Allah. Your sudden and tragic death brought an end to an extraordinary chapter in the history of our community, but it could never bring an end to your legacy.

Your journey was one of remarkable transformation. From the streets of Fadeyi and Mushin, where you learnt the dignity of labour under your father as a young carpenter, you rose through perseverance, courage and resilience to become one of the most recognised grassroots leaders in Lagos. Your years in the Oodua People’s Congress (OPC), your leadership within the Lagos transport sector and your influence across communities made you a respected and, at times, controversial figure. Yet, beyond the public perception was a man whose greatest desire was to uplift others.

When Allah blessed you with influence and resources, you chose to give back generously. You created employment opportunities for many young people, paid children’s school fees, settled house rents, sponsored naming ceremonies and extended a helping hand to anyone who came to you in genuine need. Many people came to your house in tears but left with renewed hope and smiles on their faces.

Perhaps your greatest achievement was not the influence you commanded but the peace you helped restore. The Mushin–Fadeyi axis was once synonymous with violent clashes, fear and instability. Through your efforts and those of others who desired peace, many of those hostilities gradually subsided. You consistently preached reconciliation, discouraged violence and encouraged young people to embrace productive livelihoods rather than conflict. Those who knew you in your later years remember a man who believed that lasting peace was a greater victory than endless confrontation.

Ironically, despite your reputation, you chose to live without fear. You refused to surround yourself with armed escorts because you believed you had made peace with everyone and had no reason to live in constant suspicion. That confidence reflected the sincerity with which you embraced reconciliation.

Your generosity knew no religious boundaries. Although you never embraced Islam yourself, you respected my faith, supported me in practising it and never stood in the way of my religious convictions. During Ramadan, you regularly sponsored iftar meals for hundreds of people. During Eid al-Adha, you donated rams to those in need including me. You remained a dependable friend, a loyal associate and a man whose word could be trusted.

Today, we mourn your passing, but we also celebrate a life that touched countless people. History will remember not only your courage and influence but also your generosity, your loyalty, your commitment to justice and your unwavering willingness to stand by those you loved. These are the legacies that neither death nor time can erase.

As I reflect on your life, I would be dishonest if I pretended that every expectation I had of you was fulfilled. There were things I had hoped to receive from you, opportunities I believed you would one day create for me, and dreams I thought we would accomplish together. Your sudden departure has left some of those expectations unfulfilled, and naturally, that brings me pain.

Yet, I harbour no resentment or offence towards you. As believers, we understand that whatever Allah has decreed for us will surely reach us, and whatever He has not decreed for us can never become ours, no matter how much we desire it. I therefore accept that those expectations were simply not written for me in the divine decree of Allah. My heart is at peace because I know that you gave me far more than many brothers ever receive in a lifetime.

For everything you did for me, for our family, and for countless others, I remain profoundly grateful. May Almighty Allah grant us the patience to bear your absence. Ameen.

As believers, we submit to the will of Allah, for every soul shall taste death and to Him we shall all return.

It is Allah who took you from us. Grant us patience, console our hearts, and replace our loss with what is better. Indeed, You are the Best of Planners and the Most Merciful. Ameen.

Your legacy lives on, Egbon.