My dearest brother Prince Nazir Ado Ibrahim of the Royal House of the Atta’s in Ebiraland, Kogi state has passed and it has hit me hard.
We grew up together, shared an eventful and rich childhood with many remarkable experiences and went through thick and thin together for 60 years!
I thought we would grow old together and share the memories of our childhood whilst in retirement.
I thought we would comfort each other in old age whilst the world quietly passed us by.
I thought so much and planned so much but alas you are gone!
You were one in a million brother. Always putting smiles on everyone’s faces.
I remember the days of Atta Lodge in Yaba, Lagos, your dear father, the late Ohinoyi of Ebiraland, His Royal Majesty Dr. Abdulrahman Ado Ibrahim’s private house, where we all used to meet with friends and have a great time in the late 1970’s and early 1980’s.
I remember our days in the United Kingdom, at my apartment in Pier House, Chelsea, my fathers “Tower House” in Temple Gardens, Brighton and your father’s massive mansion in Belgrade Square, Belgravia.
I remember the days of Lagos Polo Club, Ikoyi Club and Apapa Club where we used to gather and move around in our fearsome and daring “gang” of wild and adventurous friends!
I remember the boxing and karate lessons we used to have and what a great warrior and courageous fighter you were.
I remember how we were at JB’ s house in a place called Bourdillon near the National Stadium in Surulere, Lagos and police raided the place!
I remember how we fought back to back and shoulder to shoulder together against our assailants whenever either of us was attacked or threatened.
We never lost brother and they never had us down! That is what made our relationship so special. Nothing and no-one could come between us.
We spoke a strange language to one another and we communicated in code and with our eyes.
We walked the dark side together and, by the grace of God, we both survived.
I remember how we learnt to ride horses together and play polo and how we used to both love marking the streets and treading the paths of the rougher sides of old Lagos in flashy cars whilst flexing our hard and crazy muscles.
I remember the rivalries we all had over the girls, I remember the fights with the white boys and the locals, I remember the squabbles we all used to have over the most insignificant things, I remember the love that our band of brothers shared, I remember the numerous controversies we got into, I remember the numerous punishments that we jointly faced from our respective parents for our many wild outings and I remember how we used to go to night clubs like Legends, Tramp, Main Squeeze, Monkberrys and others in London, Studio 54 and Xenon in New York and Princes in Federal Palace Hotel Lagos which was owned by the Dan Princwill brothers.
I remember visiting you in a place called Geneva in upstate New York where you went to University and how we drove to meet our brother Des Braithwaite in a place called Syracuse, where he was at University, again in upstate New York!
I remember your Porsche 928 S and his and mine and I remember how, in the various cities in the world, the police would stop and ask us how we could afford such cars at such a young age.
We laughed them to scorn because they did not know who and what we were and more often than not we served them with hot words and left them with teary eyes and red faces!
That was in the early-1970’s to the mid-1980’s and my goodness we had fun!
Do you remember the wild teenage years that we shared?
Do you remember when we stormed the home of the Adeyeye brothers in large numbers in the dead of the night in a strange place called Catford for daring to make a pass at one of our girlfriends?
Do you remember Layeni Fagbayi, Tonye Amachree and those we fondly called the Kentucky Fried Chicken gang?
Do you remember that pretty, tall, slim, wild white girl with long and jet black hair from the Kings road that refused to leave my apartment?
Do you remember Glenn “the shady character” in Sloane Square and Etan “the fixer” in Hampstead?
Do you remember the Good Earth Chinese Restaurant on the Kings Road, Mr. Chows in Knightsbridge, the White Elephant on the River on the banks of the Thames and in front of Dolphin Square and Mumtaz, London’s best Indian restaurant in St. Johns Wood, all four of where we used to wine, dine and make merry whenever you flew into London from the United States?
Do you remember the Horn of Plenty, that beautiful restaurant in the beautiful English countryside of Devon and do you remember Sloopy’s, the nightclub in Brighton where the Swedish, Norwegian and Danish female students used to flock?
Do you remember Peter Noble, Bertie Wilkins and Charles Draycott, colleagues of mine at Brighton College in the early 1970’s with whom we used to have so much fun and such good times whenever you were in town?
Do you remember the West Pier, the Palace Pier, the Devil’s Dyke, the Pavilion, the Grand Hotel and the Seven Dials in Brighton and the charm and warmth of that beautiful seaside town on the southern coast of England in the summer?
Do you remember Brighton beach and the sound of its beautiful white seagulls as they flew above the water?
Do you remember the long hard pink candy that was known as Brighton Rock?
Do you remember your older brother Azad’s beautiful mews house behind your fathers mansion in Belgrave Square?
Do you remember the wild parties we had there and do you remember Jackie, his beautiful and caring wife, who at least attempted to keep us on the straight and narrow?
Do you remember when I first went into politics in 1988 and set up the September Club and how you told me that it was a great idea even when others attempted to dissuade me?
Do you remember Tim Espir with whom I was at Harrow School and who later brought one of the worlds largest commodity companies to do business in Nigeria?
Do you remember how well you got on with him and the long discussions you and him had about the prospects of doing business together in Nigeria?
Do you remember Simon Loopuit, my dearest and closest English friend, with whom I was at Kelly College, with whom I spent much of my time with in London and who eventually founded, established and led one of the United Kingdom’s most successful companies called Vox Gen and, years later, established, founded and led another called Trust Hub.
Do you remember how the two of you exchanged ideas and discussed your dreams and aspirations for your respective futures?
Do you remember the Indian Azad Shivdasani who we spent time with at the Lagos Polo Club and who brought his huge company called Inlaks to Nigeria?
Do you remember Julio, the kind-hearted doorman at the Dorchester Hotel in Mayfair, who was always so happy to see us and who we used to give huge tips?
Do you remember the brilliant, highly respected, much loved, eccentric and colorful English epicurean and bon vivant, Mr. Robert Bairamian, my affable and kind Headmaster at Holmewood House School, whose father Sir Vahe Bairamian had been a High Court Judge in Nigeria during the colonial era, who taught me classics and latin whilst at Holmewood, who later became my guardian in the United Kingdom and who taught you, me and the children of so many other Nigerian elites so much about the challenges, intricacies and complexities of associating and mingling with the children of British High Society?
Do you remember us going to Lords Cricket ground in St. Johns Wood to watch the annual Eton versus Harrow cricket match and how we always used to cheer on my old school Harrow?
Do you remember how you used to accompany me to Twickenham to watch the annual Oxford versus Cambridge Rugby match and how, in solidarity, we wore the white and light blue colors of Cambridge University together and cheered on our team?
Do you remember your successful forays into the oil and gas business under the guidance of your brilliant, innovative and extreemly
successful father?
All these conjured and resurrected memories of the good, the bad and the ugly paint a childhood that was filled with vitality, colour, adventure and mixed experiences and fortunes.
And, to be sure, each and every one of them was priceless.
Beautiful memories: yet this is all we have. These are the only things that will follow our precious souls into eternity where not even our earthly bodies can go.
Long after we are buried and our flesh returns to dust those memories shall remain embedded in the inner recesses of our spirits and souls reminding us of who and what we once were and when we grieved, when we sorrowed, when we were enraged or when we loved and were filled with that paece which passeth all understanding and the sheer and utter bliss of immeasurable and inexplicable joy.
Ours was a blessed generation of fertile, well-educated, enlightened, exposed and brilliant minds and a beautiful bouquet of sophisticated and refined souls.
We were the best of the best and the brightest of the brightest mostly destined for notable achievements in our chosen fields of human endeavour.
We lived life to the fullest with Azad your older brother (who your father named the Royal Palace in Okene after), Des Braithwaite, Kunle Braithwaite, Tonye Amachree, Deremi Ajidahun, the late Layeni Fagbayi, the late Gbegi Ojora, the late Dapo Ojora, the late Oscar Ibru, Gregg Mbadiwe, Gbolahun Sanyaolu, Ade Adetona, the late Ike Monu, Yusuf Tuggar, the late Kole Fisher, my older brother the late Rotimi Fani-Kayode, Obi Nwandu, Femi Gbajabiamilla, Wole Atunrase, Eddie Otudeko, Alimi Abdulrazak, Rahman Abdulrazak, the late Peter Appio, the late Segun Awolowo, Bukola Saraki, Kojo Williams, the late Gigi Williams, Baba Dantata, the late Sani Dangote, the late Bello Dangote, Mohammed Gobir, Femi Otedola, the late Demola Fagbayi, Olu Adewunmi, Bayo Amusan, Tayo Amusan, Jojo Dawodu, Folabi Ajidahun, Folabi Caxton Martins, Kola Oke, my cousin the late Segun Sowunmi, Wole Sanyaolu, Kio Amachree, Yinka Rhodes, Tunde Folawiyo, the late Ibrahim Kojo Claude-Enin, Deinde Edu, Koye Edu, Deji Adebiyi, Tolani Shasanya, Laja Shasanya, the late Kunle Alakija, the late Baba Alakija, Patrick Mbu, Dayo Akinkugbe, Yinka Akinkugbe, the late Bimbo Ogunbanjo, the late Toksy Wiliams, the late Abba Kyari, Mofe Atake, Fafaa Princewill, Otoks Princewill, Wale Babalakin, Muktar Shinkafi, Tokunboh Ogunbanjo, Joseph Onoh, Yemi Adefarasin, the late Abayomi Kolaosho, Nduka Obaigbena, Chike Ogeah, Deolu Adefarasin, John Nwanchukwu, Michael Prest, Kola Kareem, Sam Iwuajokwu, the late Kabiru Jibril, Gbolahun Animashaun, the late Roland Nicole, the late Tunde Lipede and so many others who I cannot mention due to space constraints.
Later in the 1980’s you became my in-law after I married your beautiful cousin Saratu ‘Baby’ Atta, who was the daughter of your Uncle, the late Governor Adamu Atta of the old Kwara state.
She and I have a beautiful daughter called Folake who you used to dote over with such affection and who you had a soft spot for when she was a baby.
So much happened since that time but through it all you and I loved each other in the same way that Achilles and Patrocholus loved one another.
Always watching each others backs and standing up for one another, often fighting over small matters and always coming back together again.
Sadly we did not spend much time together in the last few years and were only in touch from time to time but when I heard of your passing something broke in me.
I realised that you were literally the living symbol of my lost childhood and the rallying point and star of those of us that grew up with you and loved you.
You were the bridge between the North and the South: who spoke Yoruba better than I did but who was proud of his noble Ebira Northern heritage and his Royal roots.
You were also the bridge between the children of the elites who went to the best schools from a very young age in England and those who went to the very best schools from a young age in Nigeria.
We fought gang wars between the two groups in those days whenever we came home for holidays from abroad at the parties we used to meet and the various social clubs we all belonged to but you brought us all together.
Ours was a generation of love and brotherhood which can never be matched or replaced.
We were rich, we were powerful, we were healthy.
We were what the French describe as the “creme de la creme” of high society and we didn’t have a care in the world!
We lived life to the fullest, we had it all, we saw it all, we watched each other’s backs and accepted each other as we were.
Those were the days when brotherhood meant something. Those were the days when loyalty was everything.
Those were the days when secrets were kept and brother stood for brother no matter what!
Those were the days when we took pride in who we were and in being Nigerians.
Those were the days when we, as a people and generation, bowed to no-one, never backed down from a challenge and had it all.
Those were the days we rocked London, New York, Paris, Athens, Cannes, Marbella, Malaga, Nassau, Monte Carlo, St. Tropez, St. Moritz, Juan Le Pins, Acapulco and much of the world without a care and with no apology, spending as if there were no tomorrow!
We were tough, proud, wealthy, healthy, strong, respected and feared young Nigerian men who had everything that we could ever want and we moved together like a pack of young wild lions.
Those were the days my brother and we thought they would never end. Those were the days when our parents would worry about us and our futures and we would exchange notes and share jokes behind their backs and make a mockery of their fears.
Then came adulthood with all its challenges and responsibilities and I believe that we all kept the flag flying and acquitted ourselves well.
Outside of that our nation changed and the carefree days of joy and abundance for all came to an end as the fortunes of our beloved Nigeria dwindled.
Ours were the days of the oil boom and cement armadas when one of our Military Heads of State told the world that “money is not our problem but rather how to spend it”.
In our days one naira was the equivalent of one dollar but sadly today one thousand four hundred naira is the equivalent of one dollar!
This means that over the last 46 years the exchange rate of the naira to the dollar has increased by approximately 140,000 whilst the naira itself has been devalued by 99.93% from its original value against the dollar and we are all suffering the consequences of it today.
What this means in real terms is that in 1980 one million naira was the equivalent of one million USD but today one million naira is the equivalent of 726 USD.
In case you didn’t get it let me put it in another way.
In 1980 one million USD would buy you one million naira but today one million USD will buy you one BILLION, three hundred MILLION naira!
Please pause for a moment and let this sink in.
Inflation has done its worse over the decades and our nation has been pauperised and brought to her knees!
Is there any coming back from this? The answer is YES because with God all things are possible.
He will never leave us and neither will He forsake us!
This is especially so if we continue to have faith in our people and in our country and we work hard and refuse to give up.
We pray for better days ahead and that our children and grandchildren can enjoy the essence, wealth, abundance and greatness of our people and country the way we once did.
Meanwhile my brother I commit you into the hands of God.
May He forgive you for all your sins and may He grant you eternal peace and rest in heaven.
May your name never fade away or be forgotten and may your legacy, a great legacy built by your distinguished ancestors and forefathers, remain strong.
I miss you already. I miss our fellowship. I miss our shared experiences and our many secrets.
I miss our joint childhood and all our other brothers many of whom have passed on.
Ours is a dwindling generation.
We had our time and God was good to us. We had everything and cannot complain.
Now it is time for you to rest brother and for those of us you have left behind to accept the inevitablity of what lies ahead.
God is with us and you are with Him. Greet our brothers that crossed over before you and tell them that FFK sends his love.
I pray for your precious soul brother and know that I shall NEVER forget you, whether in this world or the next.
Rest well Suku Su and may the Lord strengthen, bless and protect your wife, children, family and loved ones that you have left behind.
(Chief Femi Fani-Kayode, a former Minister of Culture and Tourism, a former Minister of Aviation, a former Senior Special Assistant on Public Affairs and Spokesman of President Olusegun Obasanjo, Nigeria’s Ambassador-Designate to South Africa, the Sadaukin Shinkafi, the Wakilin Doka Potiskum, the Otunba Joga Orile, the Aare Ajagunla of Otun Ekiti and a Legal Practioner)
