STANLEY JEGEDE pays tribute to Chief C.O. Adebayo, former Governor of Kwara State
The editors who cast the headlines in the various Nigerian newspapers following his passage on the 25th of June 2025 tried. A statesman has passed. A former Senator/Governor/Minister is dead. A respected politician is no more. These headlines speak in their own ways. But the words are brittle. Because, as profound as they may have sounded, they do not capture the essence of the man we now mourn.
Yes, I lost a father. I lost one of my life’s greatest anchors. I lost the man who did not just welcome me into his family but also carved out a permanent space in his heart and placed me there. The late Chief Cornelius Olatunji Adebayo did not just bestow on me the incredible honour of being the husband of his daughter, my dear wife Mosunmola. He fashioned on me a breastplate of guidance, the shoes of a consociate, the shield of friendship, the helmet of a confidante, and the steel of a preserver. He was the man who erased the ‘in-law’ from my title and replaced it with the unwavering love of a father.
In trying times, through the troughs of uncertainty and pain, his voice was a calm, steady lighthouse cutting through the storm. He would say to me, ‘Don’t expect everyone who started with you to always be with you. You are on a journey.’ How prescient! And he never failed to have my back. I always wanted to know what he thought about critical issues and his admonitions still ring in my ears. Such as “Stanley, go the right way, and you can’t go wrong!”
To write about my father-in-law is to try and bottle the ocean; the task is impossible, for his depth was immeasurable. To many, he was one of the shapers of our nation. And he was, indeed. But to me, above all else, he was simply ‘Dad’. He was my cicerone of grit, wise counsel, topmost cheerleader, and unwavering mentor.
As we perform the final rites for his passage this coming Saturday, the memories still flood my mind in an overwhelming array of unforgettable times. I see us sharing a laugh so deep it shook our shoulders. I hear the cadence of his voice in our poignant conversations, whether in joyous togetherness or in pensive silence. We would sit to discuss the intricate tapestries of life, family, business, friendships, and the complexities of human existence.
In every one of those moments, he left me more aware, more human, more focused. He could charge my spirit with a few words of encouragement or guide me toward deep introspection with a thoughtful question. And he had such a likeable nature. You felt it from the minute you met him. His smile was both confident and welcoming.
There are really too many memories to pick from. One being that he had such impeccable handwriting, and he took an endearing pride in the way he wrote. Another is that I enjoyed taking him back to the past and asking him numerous questions about his younger days in school, his political journey, and so on. He never tired of indulging me by telling those stories vividly. Like our many ‘BAREWA 1464’ tales. That was his school number at Barewa College, an elite school in Zaria, Kaduna state, during an era when a student was identified by both a name and a number. He was a proud Barewa Old Boys Association (BOBA) alumnus, and he always marvelled at how I could never forget this unique number 1464. Well, how could I? It was one of our fondest things to talk about, and the smile it put on his face. Priceless.
There was so much to learn from Dad, and yes, I learned a lot. We enjoyed each other’s company and I always looked forward to being with him. I discussed anything and everything with Dad and our conversations were “father – son talks” as we moved from one topic or subject to another and we almost always end with “I think we have been able to update ourselves on everything we can remember”. Especially if we have not had the time to talk for some time. I must also add that often, Dad will not let me leave whenever I visit without a parting gift. “Take it, I won’t use it!” he would command, while pointing to another item that I should take with me, even before I accepted what he had just given. He was indeed a generous man!
As the years went by, he slowed down considerably and, while in Abuja, spent a lot of time gardening. He took pride in his plants, flowers and trees and was always so eager to show his very impressive garden to us when we visited and how they had been well-nourished. For those who know his garden in Abuja, Dad planted almost every species. He would get his mind around missing a purple plant, for instance, and off he and his plantsman went to search for it. Delightfully, almost all those plants are huge trees now.
Nearly every fruit, name it, mangoes, oranges, grapes, bananas, paw paws, flowers, and many more, also found a home in his garden. Again, with the help of his ever reliable and devoted gardener, Joel, who bore a similar name to his own Dad, and shared an incredible bond with him.
If I am as accomplished as I am today, it is because he was one of the most special people who carefully wove threads of goodwill into my life. He was a strategic thinker, a man who believed in moving the needle, no matter the obstacle. He was dynamic in his perspectives, a calm water who could become a roaring lion in defence of his own.
I am wiser, sharper, and tougher because he taught me the necessity of conviction. Yet, I am more present, kinder, and more engaging because he showed me that true strength is rooted in character and gentleness. He was a compass that always pointed true north.
My father-in-law was a courageous husband. One who sat by his wife’s bedside daily all five years when she was unwell, till we lost her painfully on the 9th of September 2014. His life literally came to a stop when we lost Mummy. He was hardly seen at social, political events or gatherings. Mummy was his rock and his pillar. And as far as I can remember, he got emotional anytime her name was mentioned or when I talked about her. He was also an awesome, protective father to his children, creating a legacy of love and strength that will ripple through generations.
The world has lost a great statesman. Kwara State has lost one of its foremost pillars. A family has lost a patriarch. And I have lost a father. The void is immense. The cost of having been mentored by one of the best, championed by the resolute, and daily honoured by an outstanding individual. The lessons, the love, the laughter, and the light he poured into all of us can never die. It lives on in the way we lead. The way we love. And the way we strive to be better human beings.
Rest now, my dad, my confidant, my friend, in the eternal embrace of the God you served with such fierce devotion. The silence you leave is very loud. But it resounds with the music of a life magnificently lived. And the affection we would carry forever.
Jegede is Executive Chairman, phase3 Telecom
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