Mrs. Obehi Ogbeh turned 75 early this week. Drums were not rolled out. Understandably. It was, in any case, always going to be a quiet affair with close friends, children, grandchildren and her constant companion of fifty years in attendance. A bigger thanksgiving party was being thought of for later in the year when their union would have been officially 50 years. However she must have planned her landmark birthday – and she is a meticulous planner – it must definitely have turned out differently from what she would have envisaged. Death humbles us and changes the best of plans. Sudden death even more so. Her husband, Chief Audu Ogbeh, died suddenly three weeks ago today. He was by her side when death did them part. But the family did celebrate a landmark birthday recently when her sister turned 70 in May. It was in the US and we spent three simple but very cozy nights together at our daughter’s place. It was like old times when we’d meet in Makurdi, Abuja and Lagos. But unknown to us, it was the last time.

Audu Ogbeh was very passionate about Nigeria. It was a passion he never lost despite his many years in politics and public service with the intrigues and betrayals that punctuated those years. I happened to have been in his house in Abuja when some PDP Governors came by to tell him it was the Governors’ wish that President Obasanjo would not do a second term. He told me of the lengths he went and the logic he used to disarm them. He also told ‘worried’ Obasanjo when he visited a few hours later what he needed to do to save his job. We all know how Obasanjo repaid him after he had secured his second term and was angling for a third. The world now knows of that famous lunch when Obasanjo ostensibly came for pounded yam but in reality came to perfect a plot. Pastor Obasanjo like many Christians, must know the story of Judas Iscariot, the disciple who shared a meal with Jesus Christ after plotting a betrayal. The formation of APC itself and the last minute removal of his name from the list of second term Ministers were not without their intrigues. But the unkindest cut of all was the assassination attempt on him by someone he considered a close childhood friend and brother. He was left for dead in a pool of blood with an eye almost popping out of its socket. Stitching him together physically, psychologically and emotionally took time. I don’t think the emotional wounds caused by such a huge betrayal ever healed. Yet he never stopped talking about the country and how she could overcome her challenges. He was an idealist in a country where politics was anything but. His idealism – and his kindness - almost pauperized him. But they were his saving grace when the witch hunts came.

He was passionate about farming. There was no time since I knew him over four decades ago that he didn’t have a farm. The birth of each new agricultural venture of his was celebrated like the birth of a child with the belief that the child would grow to achieve great things. His knowledge of plants, leaves and livestock was quite extensive, almost legendary. He had a rice mill long before it became fashionable. And a palm oil mill at a stage. He believed in agro-allied industries and the need for every local government to have at least one factory as a means of getting rural Nigeria out of poverty. Unfortunately, many of those villagers he tried to help ended up sabotaging his efforts and stealing him dry. But he was an incurable optimist who never gave up on farming, or on Nigeria, until his last breath.

But family must rank among his great passions. As the first surviving son of a relatively poor family, he took his responsibility towards his siblings and extended family seriously, denying himself many indulgencies to see to their education and welfare, including the education of some nephews and nieces. He also took pride in their achievements. He took immense joy in seeing his children grow up to become responsible citizens. However, one of his special joys was when his first grandchild was born. A picture I have in my head was of him cradling that cute little child whenever he was brought to him despite his busy schedule then as the PDP Chairman. A couple of months ago, in June, that grandson made a First Class in Economics making Audu Ogbeh a very proud grandfather. About the last time we spoke, he was in Jos at the home of another daughter whose son was leaving for the university. He also spoke of wishing to visit his twin grandchildren in the US for their birthday in December. Since his dignified retreat from politics, family had taken the center stage and his constant companion was his wife. We can’t condole her enough for the void his passing on would cause.

Although said a long time ago, the admonition of late Alhaji Shehu Musa on the importance of ending well still comes to me from time to time. There is no doubt, judging from eulogies and articles on Audu Ogbeh, that he has ended well. The painless manner of his death is what many people pray for. And the positive summation of his life and times in the public space is what many public figures wish for. A top politician’s one sentence summation of him was ‘he was a decent man’. I align whole heartedly with that summation because that was the essence of the person of Chief Innocent Audu Ogbeh. He was indeed a decent and caring man.

If there was any regret, at least for us still left behind, it was that he didn’t finish his memoir. A playwright in his younger days, writing – and oratory- came easily to him. It was therefore not about ability. I just believe he felt there was time. I once volunteered to help him get it over the line some ten years ago. Now, I wish I had insisted. I hope his children can still salvage the book but there are many things we would have learnt from his thoughts which will now be gone. Spanning the Shagari era till now, he was one of Nigeria’s most enduring politicians.

May his soul continue to rest in peace. That I will miss him is an understatement. Going to Abuja and not seeing him will be strange for a while. Sleep well, ‘Big Brother’. I still owe you one more trip to Otukpa, your final resting place.

• Muyiwa Adetiba is a veteran journalist and publisher. He can be reached via titbits2012@yahoo.com