Not a Eulogy… Just What I Witnessed
After the 1999 elections, Brother Dan regrouped the party through frequent meetings and rallies.
The Sage had slowed down a bit, and Brother Dan was now becoming the main figure.
There were many rallies and meetings, but I still remember one in particular after the 1999 election.
At some of the meetings, I attended uninvited, oo. 🤣🤣
Once I dropped my Dad at the venue, I would quietly slip inside and stay somewhere far at the back, just to listen—especially because I was waiting for when Brother Dan would speak.
He had the glamour, the eloquence, the flamboyance, and he always spoke in detail and without fear.
The main objective of the regrouping was to provide a strong opposition to the new Edo State government led by Chief Lucky Igbinedion.
And right there in our domain and political axis was his deputy, Chief Mike Ogiadomhe, who came from our neighbouring community of Fugar in the same local government.
For some reason, many people in the local government wanted to decamp from PDP to APP, and Fugar was chosen as the venue for one of the rallies.
Before the day of the rally, the who’s who in APP had already arrived with Brother Dan.
One of those who was very vocal alongside him was the late Pascal Bafyau.
A few hours before the event started, I followed some members of the entourage to see the preparations at the venue.
When we got to Fugar, we met stern-looking policemen who had been deployed to stop the rally from taking place.
One of the main reasons given was that we had just returned to democracy and that this was the home of the deputy governor.
We were not allowed into the venue.
Police pursue us go house. 🤣
I can still remember the person who led us as we were returning to Ogbona to tell Brother Dan what was happening.
He said in Pidgin:
“This rally no go fit hold oo. You no see the kan police wey dey there?”
He added that the deputy governor was even around, and that would make matters worse.
One member of the entourage suggested that the rally should be cancelled.
But Brother Dan briefed the members and stated firmly that the rally must hold because he had obtained the necessary permissions.
One thing I keenly observed about him at the time was that he always made sure that what he was doing was backed by the law.
Not just by quoting the Constitution.
He wanted proof.
He wanted the papers.
He had the documents in hand.
We planned to move in a motorcade, and I was at the forefront.
“Me sef no come dey fear again,” I said to myself.
Brother Dan don give us mind!
It was a motorcade of about thirteen cars.
When we arrived in Fugar, we stepped out of the cars.
Brother Dan and Pascal Bafyau themselves proceeded straight to remove the barriers that had been placed on the route leading to the venue.
Three police leaders approached us fiercely.
One of them, pointing a gun, told Brother Dan and Pascal that he had been given a directive from above that the rally must not hold that day because, according to the instruction, it was designed to deal a political blow to the deputy governor.
Brother Dan addressed the policemen.
I can still remember some of his words vividly.
He turned to the lead policeman and asked whether he was aware that we were now in a democracy and that the people of the community had the right to associate politically in whatever way they chose, irrespective of whose home it was.
He then dipped his hand into his pocket and brought out two papers.
One was a permit the party had obtained from the Edo State Police Command in Benin.
The other was from the then Police Divisional Headquarters in Auchi.
He showed them to the police leader and asked him whether he would be able to stand in a court of law and tell the judge that he was the person who prevented the rally from taking place.
That same policeman, who had been very fierce when we first arrived, was now stuttering.
I was young.
It was 1999.
I liked the drama, the scene, and how bold and fearless he was.
Me sef was now feeling like a big boy too. 🤣🤣
On the other side of the divide, in PDP, some of my good friends from Fugar at the time were very active. Their parents were also strong political figures in the local government.
They were present at the blockade but watched from a distance as Brother Dan engaged the policemen.
I was happy because, in my young mind, I wanted them to know that even though we had lost the election, we still held sway in the local government.
That was just my young mindset. 🤣
After Brother Dan finished addressing the policemen, they backed down.
As they were about to leave, he called them back and politely asked them to remove the blockade because it was a major road and leaving it blocked could cause accidents.
They complied and left in a hurry.
We proceeded to the venue.
Once we were inside and the police had retreated, political thugs were deployed to try to destabilise the rally.
The same police officers he had addressed earlier said quite a lot on camera because the entire event was being recorded from the moment we moved out of Chief M.C.K. Orbih’s compound.
Unknown to us, the video camera became the target.
The thugs snatched it and bolted.
We later learned that they had allegedly been instructed to seize it because of fears that Brother Dan would turn the footage into national news, showing how people from the deputy governor’s hometown had decamped.
That day, I witnessed how Brother Dan commanded respect.
He wowed the crowd with his flamboyant political oratory and unmistakable charisma.
So, looking back now at the path he took over the years, I am not surprised that he became one of the prominent political leaders in Edo and Nigeria.
I had seen that side of him long before.
After the 1999 elections, Brother Dan regrouped the party through frequent meetings and rallies.
The Sage had slowed down a bit, and Brother Dan was now becoming the main figure.
There were many rallies and meetings, but I still remember one in particular after the 1999 election.
At some of the meetings, I attended uninvited, oo. 🤣🤣
Once I dropped my Dad at the venue, I would quietly slip inside and stay somewhere far at the back, just to listen—especially because I was waiting for when Brother Dan would speak.
He had the glamour, the eloquence, the flamboyance, and he always spoke in detail and without fear.
The main objective of the regrouping was to provide a strong opposition to the new Edo State government led by Chief Lucky Igbinedion.
And right there in our domain and political axis was his deputy, Chief Mike Ogiadomhe, who came from our neighbouring community of Fugar in the same local government.
For some reason, many people in the local government wanted to decamp from PDP to APP, and Fugar was chosen as the venue for one of the rallies.
Before the day of the rally, the who’s who in APP had already arrived with Brother Dan.
One of those who was very vocal alongside him was the late Pascal Bafyau.
A few hours before the event started, I followed some members of the entourage to see the preparations at the venue.
When we got to Fugar, we met stern-looking policemen who had been deployed to stop the rally from taking place.
One of the main reasons given was that we had just returned to democracy and that this was the home of the deputy governor.
We were not allowed into the venue.
Police pursue us go house. 🤣
I can still remember the person who led us as we were returning to Ogbona to tell Brother Dan what was happening.
He said in Pidgin:
“This rally no go fit hold oo. You no see the kan police wey dey there?”
He added that the deputy governor was even around, and that would make matters worse.
One member of the entourage suggested that the rally should be cancelled.
But Brother Dan briefed the members and stated firmly that the rally must hold because he had obtained the necessary permissions.
One thing I keenly observed about him at the time was that he always made sure that what he was doing was backed by the law.
Not just by quoting the Constitution.
He wanted proof.
He wanted the papers.
He had the documents in hand.
We planned to move in a motorcade, and I was at the forefront.
“Me sef no come dey fear again,” I said to myself.
Brother Dan don give us mind!
It was a motorcade of about thirteen cars.
When we arrived in Fugar, we stepped out of the cars.
Brother Dan and Pascal Bafyau themselves proceeded straight to remove the barriers that had been placed on the route leading to the venue.
Three police leaders approached us fiercely.
One of them, pointing a gun, told Brother Dan and Pascal that he had been given a directive from above that the rally must not hold that day because, according to the instruction, it was designed to deal a political blow to the deputy governor.
Brother Dan addressed the policemen.
I can still remember some of his words vividly.
He turned to the lead policeman and asked whether he was aware that we were now in a democracy and that the people of the community had the right to associate politically in whatever way they chose, irrespective of whose home it was.
He then dipped his hand into his pocket and brought out two papers.
One was a permit the party had obtained from the Edo State Police Command in Benin.
The other was from the then Police Divisional Headquarters in Auchi.
He showed them to the police leader and asked him whether he would be able to stand in a court of law and tell the judge that he was the person who prevented the rally from taking place.
That same policeman, who had been very fierce when we first arrived, was now stuttering.
I was young.
It was 1999.
I liked the drama, the scene, and how bold and fearless he was.
Me sef was now feeling like a big boy too. 🤣🤣
On the other side of the divide, in PDP, some of my good friends from Fugar at the time were very active. Their parents were also strong political figures in the local government.
They were present at the blockade but watched from a distance as Brother Dan engaged the policemen.
I was happy because, in my young mind, I wanted them to know that even though we had lost the election, we still held sway in the local government.
That was just my young mindset. 🤣
After Brother Dan finished addressing the policemen, they backed down.
As they were about to leave, he called them back and politely asked them to remove the blockade because it was a major road and leaving it blocked could cause accidents.
They complied and left in a hurry.
We proceeded to the venue.
Once we were inside and the police had retreated, political thugs were deployed to try to destabilise the rally.
The same police officers he had addressed earlier said quite a lot on camera because the entire event was being recorded from the moment we moved out of Chief M.C.K. Orbih’s compound.
Unknown to us, the video camera became the target.
The thugs snatched it and bolted.
We later learned that they had allegedly been instructed to seize it because of fears that Brother Dan would turn the footage into national news, showing how people from the deputy governor’s hometown had decamped.
That day, I witnessed how Brother Dan commanded respect.
He wowed the crowd with his flamboyant political oratory and unmistakable charisma.
So, looking back now at the path he took over the years, I am not surprised that he became one of the prominent political leaders in Edo and Nigeria.
I had seen that side of him long before.