Chief Dan Osi Orbih
Memory Lane
By Johnnie Nasamu
Not a Eulogy… Just What I Witnessed
Part 1
Life is indeed a transition. It’s been a few weeks since Chief Dan Osi Orbih passed away, and I have found myself reflecting on the times I knew him while growing up. It is now truly dawning on me: The Agbokhaivho the II of Avianwu Clan and Kulukulu I of Africa has gone to rest. This is a colossal loss to my dear community of Ogbona. The Orbihs have always been family to us, the Nasamus. Growing up, the bond between our two families was very strong. We came from the same community, shared many connections, and that bond has remained over the years.
A few weeks ago, Michael Orbih and I spoke, reminiscing about the good old days when our fathers were still alive, about our elder brothers, and about how time and the responsibilities of family life have changed so many things. Yet, through it all, the family ties remain.
To the Nasamus, the late Chief M.C.K. Orbih remained the father of all—a remarkable man, a sage, and someone deeply revered by us. He was a father figure whom no one dared speak ill of when any of the Nasamus were present.
The two families were deeply rooted in a shared community and a longstanding relationship.
If anyone in his circle ever betrayed him, he knew there were people back home who would never sell out, and my Dad was one of them. The trust was deep. That interwoven relationship reshaped the social circles of both families. They were not merely political allies; they were, in many ways, one extended family.
During my secondary school days at Our Lady of Fatima College, Auchi, my first point of call every holiday was the Orbihs’ house in Jattu, just a few kilometres from my boarding school. My Dad would come and pick me up a few hours later.
In those days, Brother Dan was not always around, and neither were most of the big brothers, except sometimes Mike, Bughie, and the Sage’s grandson, Callistus. The Sage himself, Chief M.C.K. Orbih, was most times present.
I made sure my term results were very good because that was always the first question Eramah would ask at the end of each term. I also had to bring the previous term’s results so he could compare them and see whether I had dropped in any subject.
From conversations in and around both houses—theirs and ours—I would hear how Brother Ferdi (Chief Ferdinand Orbih, SAN), Brother Dan, and my own elder brothers, Brother Gilbert and Brother Ambrose, as they were fondly called in family circles, were making their mark in the cities.
Brother Dan, in particular, was already making a name for himself in business and politics.
At that time, the Sage himself was still very active in politics. That house was almost a Mecca for the who’s who of Nigerian politics. Strong political figures from both the North and South of the country came through—not just politicians, but also illustrious sons of Afemai land.
For me then, it was almost a tradition. They would come in to greet the Sage, even while they were in opposition.
Hardly any prominent figure would come to Edo North without paying a courtesy call or coming to greet Eramah.
My observation was that political rivalry could be tense, but for Eramah, salutations were never a problem.
That would be a story for another day.
I was not surprised because, while growing up, I was told how influential and respected he was in Nigeria’s political and social circles, even before I was born.
But I wouldn’t want to write about what happened before I was born.
So make I write the one wey I witness. 😊
After my secondary school education in mid-1998, I was sent home to master my driving skills while preparing for JAMB and university.
As one of the last-borns, I was not allowed to travel to the city. My elder brothers had just gotten a Mercedes-Benz 230 for my Dad, and he needed a driver.
Being a very young boy, I found that offer very exciting.
Within a few weeks, I had mastered driving and began taking my Dad to almost all the political meetings and rallies across Edo North.
At this point, the dynamics changed for me.
I became a regular visitor to the Orbihs’ house, and I noticed that Brother Dan was now home very frequently.
You could tell when he was around.
He had this happy, warm aura that immediately endeared him to people. The atmosphere would start bubbling with his upbeat and infectious energy.
I still remember that once the gate to their house was opened, before I even brought the car to a complete halt, I would hear him hailing my Dad:
“Papa VT! Papa VT!”
That was what he fondly called him.
And once we were getting ready to go back home, he would jokingly tell me:
“Ekhagbai, drive Papa VT safely—don’t be a driver, no corner!” 🤣
Then the rallies became very serious.
A new political dispensation was about to be enthroned with the 1999 election, and we were always in the motorcade of the Sage himself, Chief M.C.K. Orbih, and Chief Dan Osi Orbih.
It was at this stage that I first witnessed Brother Dan’s political strength.
He was young, vibrant, fearless, and confident.
I was in awe of the way he addressed issues and put pressure on the opposing party. The mere mention of the name Orbih seemed to command immediate attention from his political opponents.
He spoke eloquently in both our local dialect and English, often laced with humour that wowed political audiences.
He had charisma.
People listened when he spoke.
He spoke with facts and laid out his understanding of where the new democratic dispensation was heading and what he believed would happen if the APP was voted into power.
At that time, there were no mobile phones or social media to distract me. So, at every rally I attended, I was always looking forward to when he would speak.
For me, as a young school leaver, that was the only vibe I looked forward to on the campaign trail.
I bet you, if you were in my shoes, you would do the same.
In one of those rallies, the meeting ran so late that by the time we were ready to return to Ogbona, it was already dark.
Remember, I was still a new and very young driver, and Brother Dan knew this.
As we were about to leave the venue for Ogbona, he walked up to me and asked whether I had ever driven at night since I became a driver.
I told him no, but that I could do it.
Me, I wan try everything then. 🤣
Brother Dan took his time and explained to me what could happen since I had never driven at night with headlamps.
I still remember one of his explanations: that an approaching driver using full beam could blind me and make me swerve off the road.
He then called a member of his entourage to drive my car—not only to drive it, but also to show me how to drive safely at night with the headlamps on.
For Brother Dan, it was safety first.
We visited almost every nook and cranny of Edo North, soliciting votes.
It was the Lucky Imasuen/Dan Orbih ticket.
We were in ANPP, then APP.
But things did not go our way in the 1999 election.
Unlike what is common nowadays, Brother Dan did not immediately jump ship.
And that was another thing I noticed about him.
He regrouped.
He continued.
He kept moving.