When veteran politician, Chief Ayo Adebanjo, and foremost publisher, Chief Joop Berkhout, joined the ancestral realm within days of each other, Nigerians were unanimous in their verdict that the two deaths truly diminished us all. In both cases, it can be said without equivocation that the men lived for something.
Last year, on the occasion of his 95th birthday, I described Adebanjo as a member of a vanishing breed of men and women who chose the straight and narrow path of rectitude in public life and who were not afraid to stand alone if necessary in the pursuit of the greatest good for the greatest number.
It is not given to all men to live for a cause. Some men live for nothing and die as if they never lived. When they die, no matter how many vaults they have stashed with liquid cash or how many corporate entities they have presided over, it is as if Shakespeare’s famous quote: “When beggars die…”, has no meaning.
Granted that we cannot all be in the driver’s seat of life, we can at least hold a torch or a compass to help our fellowmen see and navigate the way so that when we expire a deep darkness descends on the rest of humanity in acknowledgement of a life lived in the service of others. In the face of imminent death, at his trial for impiety and corrupting youth, Socrates said: “The unexamined life is not worth living”. A philosopher with a religious hue would say a life not lived in the service of others is not worth living.
Both Adebanjo and Berkhout, though originally children of different cultures, lived and died in the service of the Nigerian society in their uniquely different ways. Because both were field marshals in their different spheres of influence, their demise attracted presidential attention.
Adebanjo
Considering their political differences in the recent past, it was touching to read President Tinubu’s tribute to Adebanjo which I have edited for space:
“All who knew Baba Adebanjo drew from his boundless wisdom and cherished the democratic ideals he tirelessly campaigned for.
“His principled voice, which resonated through decades of political activism, will be deeply missed. As a nation, we will miss his regular interventions in national affairs, which enriched our political discourse. Though we mourn his departure, we are also grateful to God for blessing him with a long, remarkable, purposeful life – 96 years of unrelenting advocacy for progress and equity.
“Baba, as a lawyer, statesman, and politician, stood among the last of a generation of nationalists and independent heroes who shaped the foundation of our country…
“In moments of national crisis, Baba’s courage shone brightest. When democracy hung in the balance after the annulment of the June 12, 1993, presidential election, he joined the National Democratic Coalition (NADECO) as one of the leading voices against military dictatorship, helping to galvanise a movement that became the bedrock of our collective struggle to reclaim democratic governance.
“His unwavering commitment to truth and justice extended to my journey as a governorship candidate in 1999. Baba Adebanjo’s steadfast support was instrumental in my election as Governor of Lagos State under the platform of the Alliance for Democracy.
“Though our political paths diverged in later years, my respect and admiration for him never wavered. Until his death, I shared a deep personal bond with Baba Adebanjo; he was like a father figure….”
Principle
In truth, I think Tinubu’s respect for Adebanjo didn’t go unnoticed by the old man during his lifetime. Incredible as it sounds, considering the many moons one has put into the journalism profession, I never met Chief Adebanjo one-on-one. But my readers will recall that I did have the privilege of an exclusive telephone interview with him on his 95th birthday at which he expressed his view on his relationship with President Tinubu as follows:
“I have nothing personal against Bola Tinubu. I should be proud that somebody I made the governor is now president. He has always been respectful to me, very liberal. There’s no Christmas he wouldn’t send me presents — even during the COVID pandemic. But that is not the issue. When he returned from overseas medical treatment, I went to greet him. He calls me Uncle. My children call him uncle. I did everything in my power to make him governor without collecting one kobo from him. That is my record.”
He lived a principled life which many of his critics described as rigid, but he had an explanation for this stance: “I can’t be bothered if anyone considers me rigid because I loyally follow my principles. As a Yoruba man, I live by a set of values. To subvert your principles in order to be accepted as not rigid is unwise and fraudulent. Those who have no principles are always quick to label others as rigid because they will do anything to get what they want. For me, the rightness of a cause is critically important. I don’t owe anybody an apology for staying true to the principles established by our leader, Papa Awolowo.”
Berkhout
The other Nigerian who boarded the eternal flight of immortality at the departure lounge of life was the redoubtable Chief Joop Berkhout, a Dutchman who held the chieftaincy title of ‘Okun Borode of Ile-Ife’.
Berkhout was born in Amsterdam on March 31, 1930. But he relocated to Nigeria in the 1950s after the Second World War had ravaged his family home in The Netherlands and destroyed his father’s hotel business. Before coming to Nigeria, he had worked in Tanzania and Zambia. It was in Nigeria that he was destined to become the foremost publisher with his Spectrum Books Limited which he later sold before retiring into his other company, Safari Books.
Publishing was his life. He loved Nigeria with such passion that many wondered what was behind the ardour. I got to meet him through his great friend and grandfather of the Nigerian novel, Chief Cyprian Ekwensi MFR, the Osi Baarohin of Ibadanland. Once, during a period he was supposed to be on a six week leave in his native Netherlands, he showed up at Ekwensi’s Ojuelegba, Lagos, home.
Asked what he was doing there when he had earlier announced that he would be away for six weeks, he explained that he truly went back home to see his sister and other family members. But after the first five days, he had seen everybody and the excitement of his visit was wearing off. To make matters worse, there was nothing to challenge the senses or hone one’s instincts – no power outage; no area boys; no ‘Owambe’ parties; no itinerant drummers; no retinue of friends, associates, hangers-on, hustlers and – importantly, he said – no writers with perpetually open doors whose homes he could invade 24/7 without notice…
I wasn’t surprised when Berkhout showed up at the burial of Ekwensi’s Mum in Nkwelle-Ezunaka one unforgettable evening, donning an ‘aso-ebi’ wrapper over his trousers and dancing the night away with gusto. That is my enduring memory of him as he now gyrates his way into the ancestral rafters.
To Adebanjo and Berkhout, peace. Perfect peace.
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