By PASTOR OSAGIE IZE-IYAMU

It was in 1981, at the University of Benin, that Dan and I first met as undergraduates. We were young, with our lives still ahead of us, and neither of us could have imagined what the years would bring. We did not know the places life would take us, the different political paths we would follow, or the many changes we would live through. Yet, from that simple beginning grew a friendship that would last for more than four decades.

After our university days, life took us in different directions. While I remained in Benin after studying Law and completing my National Youth Service, Dan moved to Port Harcourt, where he settled successfully into private business. But Edo State was never far from him. His father, Chief M. C. K. Orbih was a notable political figure, and Dan often returned home to support his father’s political activities, particularly in Edo North.

When Nigeria returned to democratic rule in 1999, Dan became more actively involved in politics and came to me for support in his ambition to contest for the governorship of Edo State. I remember telling him frankly that, much as I valued our friendship, my relationship with Lucky Igbinedion was rooted in strong family ties, and I could not support another person if Lucky decided to contest.

As events unfolded, Dan became the deputy governorship candidate to Lucky Imasuen on the platform of the APP, while Lucky Igbinedion emerged as the PDP candidate. We found ourselves on opposite sides of that contest, but our friendship remained intact. Lucky won the election and became governor, while I had the privilege of serving as his chief of Staff.

A few years later, as preparations began for the 2003 elections, there was a need to strengthen the PDP. Chief Tony Anenih, the leader of the party, and Chief Lucky Igbinedion, then Governor of Edo State, decided to reach out to prominent leaders of the opposition. Chief M. C. K. Orbih and his son, Dan, were among those contacted to join the PDP. I was privileged to play a role in this political realignment, an assignment that brought me even closer to the Orbih family.

Our political paths would take different turns again. I eventually left the PDP in 2007, while Dan remained in the party and later became its Chairman in Edo State, a position in which he established himself as one of the most formidable political leaders of his generation. Fearless, articulate, and firm in his views, he led a strong opposition and was never afraid to hold the government of the day accountable.

Years later, circumstances brought me back to the PDP, with Dan still serving as Chairman. I still remember what he said when I returned: “Osagie,  you played a role in bringing me into the PDP, now it is my privilege to welcome you back to the party.” It was vintage Dan- direct, warm, and delivered with the kind of humour that made the moment memorable.

When I emerged as the PDP governorship candidate in 2016, Dan stood firmly by me. His support went beyond what was required of him as a chairman. He mobilised people, reached out to friends and supporters, and did everything within his power to advance our cause. I will always remain grateful for the role he played during that important period of my life.

Our political paths later diverged again when I returned to the APC while Dan remained in the PDP. In the 2020 governorship election, we were once again on opposing sides. Yet, what I remember most about that period is not the intensity of the campaign, but Dan’s conduct towards me. He deliberately chose not to make me the subject of personal attacks or allow our political differences to become personal hostility. That meant a great deal to me and revealed something important about the man he was: he knew how to disagree without allowing disagreement to become hatred.

That experience also reminded me of something I had come to understand over the many years we knew each other: neither Dan nor I was perfect. At the level of politics at which we both operated, it is almost impossible to go through public life without disagreements, disappointments, or, at times, offending people. We had our differences and did not always see things the same way. But as I reflect on his life and our friendship, I have chosen to remember the good times we shared and the bond that endured despite those differences.

Perhaps that is why, now that Dan is gone, it is not the political battles that occupy my thoughts. My mind keeps returning to the young man I met in 1981 and to the countless moments we shared afterward. Whenever the opportunity arose, we would sit together, share a meal, and talk. Politics was often part of our conversations, but it was never all that we talked about. We spoke about family, Edo State, Nigeria, and the ordinary matters of life. We argued, challenged one another, teased one another, and laughed. Dan was witty, generous, and always fun to be with.

I would give much for one more opportunity to sit across the table from Dan – to hear him make his point, challenge him as I often did, laugh with him, and simply enjoy his company. Not to discuss politics or an election, but simply to spend time again with my old friend.

Kulukulu, thank you for the years. Thank you for the friendship that survived distance, disagreements, ch
anging political affiliations, and all the unexpected turns life brought our way. Edo State has lost an illustrious son, and the political class has lost a General. But I have lost something far more personal- a friend and brother who cannot be replaced.

My dear brother, as I say this final goodbye, I pray that the Almighty God, in His infinite mercy, will receive your soul into eternal rest. May He comfort your beloved wife and children, strengthen your siblings, uphold your people in Ogbona, and console all whose hearts are heavy at your passing. For those of us who had the privilege of knowing  you intimately, may He give us the strength to bear the pain of your absence and the grace to cherish the memories you have left behind.

Kulukulu, may your rest be peaceful and your memory forever blessed. May the friendship and commitment you gave so fiercely continue to live in the hearts of all of us who were privileged to know you.

Rest peacefully, Dan. Rest well, Kulukulu. Until we meet again.