DAN AGBESE: Beyond 62 Oregun Road and 3 Billings Way
By Soji Akinrinade
Of the quartet that brought Newswatch magazine to life, Dan Agbese was the least known to me. He was the editor of the New Nigerian in Kaduna, an influential newspaper with which I had a grudge, (but that is a story for another day).
I had worked with the late Dele Giwa when he was the editor of the Sunday Concord. I had also interacted with the late Yakubu Mohammed, editor of the National Concord, and Ray Ekpu, who chaired Concord’s Editorial Board.
When the trio of Giwa, Mohammed and Ekpu left the Concord to start Newswatch magazine with Agbese, I was not surprised when they invited me to join the new magazine on November 15, 1984.
I accepted their offer, although I knew I was leaving certainty for an uncertainty. But being adventurous and with the quality and pedigree of the owners of the magazine, I had no doubt that I was joining an illustrious group of journalists and that my professional career was in safe hands. I worked with Dan on major stories and interviews and this began to draw us together. Years later, I became Dan’s deputy when he was made the magazine’s editor-in-chief.
Beyond 62 Oregun Road and later 3 Billings Way, our relationship was solid. We played squash together, and were part of the crowd at the home of General Alani Akinrinade, my first cousin, who had a squash court at his home in Opebi, Ikeja. Together, Egbon Dan and I joined the Ivory Health Club, off Ogundana Street (off Allen Avenue), in Ikeja. ( I had graduated from calling him Dan to Egbon Dan. He called me Aburo rather than Young B.). The club was another venue for us to indulge in our pastime: hitting the round ball against the wall.
Unfortunately, Egbon Dan later had a herniated disc problem that ended his days at the squash court. As I could not find a playing partner as dependable as him, I became a sporadic squash player myself.
A testament to his love for his junior brother (me) was how much worried he was about me during the Abacha years. After General Akinrinade had been hounded out of Nigeria by Abacha goons and his house burnt down, two of my first cousins were arrested and became part of the Alagbon crowd. There was uncertainty about my safety too, particularly after some close security officials told me to “take care” of myself. With Ray, Egbon Dan and Yakubu’s acquiescence, I left Nigerian via the Nadeco Route. Egbon Dan was constantly in touch with me until I safely reached the United Kingdom.
Years after Abacha dramatically left the scene and Nigeria returned to the politicians, Egbon Dan frequently came to the UK with a friend he introduced me to, Dr Abdullahi Adamu, former governor of Nasarawa State and ex-chairman of the All Progressive Congress, APC. A priority at those times was getting together to share brotherly love, apart from discussing Nigeria. He had my back, always, and defended me in the way loving siblings would do. I reciprocated and loved him too.
I remember when the Godwin Daboh controversy broke out, he was worried that not being in Nigeira I would not have the full details of what went on. Egbon Dan sent a long hand-written letter me with details of his association with Daboh. He wanted me to know, first hand, the issues a round the controversy. I still have the letter.
We also shared the love of coffee, but he was my superior where that was concerned. I always brought coffee pods for him and sometimes fanciful coffee makers whenever I returned to Nigeria from the UK.
Above all, what I loved most about the man was his love of family. He loved my family, nuclear and extended. From my wife, Sonia, to General Akinrinade, Chief Femi Akinrinade, Bankole, Dele and Tunde Akinrinade, he was close to them all. He was the godfather of my niece, Fito, Tunde’s daughter.
When his own daughter, Ene, was pursuing her law degrees in the UK, I was a good link between father and daughter. He trusted me enough to let me handle some financial transactions for Ene, through my own UK bank account. This became the origin of how he kept an account with me until he died. When the rules governing bank accounts of non-residents changed in the UK, he lost his account. Rather than bother to open a new one, he decided in 2013 that I would be his banker.
The last transactions on that account were in December 2024 and June 2025, and were related to a Christmas gift for Sonia and a gift for my granddaughter, Naia, who was born in April 2025. The relationship with Sonia, whom he called Lady S, was special. Every Christmas, Egbon Dan would send a present to Sonia, and she, in return, would bake a fruit cake, fortified with rum (usually over a couple of months) for me to take back to Lagos for him.
Mrs Rose Agbese, his wife, whom I call Mrs A, always treated me like her husband’s special brother. Every time I visited them was special. I would be well fed and pampered, and would leave with assorted takeaway that would last for weeks. At times I would just want to appear at Egbon Dan’s home without prior warning so Mrs A and Ene wouldn’t take the trouble to prepare a feast for me.
Two days before Egbon Dan’s death, I chatted with him and told him I would visit the following week to check on him and his health. It was a Saturday. I was to call him two days later (Monday), to agree time and day with him. I had also planned to tell him not to inform Mrs A about the visit.
Alas, it wasn’t to be. I had spoken to my big brother for the last time! Ene called me early that Monday morning to tell me “my father and your Egbon isn’t responding” and “isn’t breathing.” I had an hospital appointment that morning to dress the wound from a surgery on my back. I did that and hurried to Festac. I got there. My Egbon was gone!! I didn’t even see his body, which, by the time I arrived, had been taken to the mortuary.
The past two and a half months have been rough. I think a lot about him. The finality of his death is hard to take. I sit opposite him in our office. Now I will be staring at an empty desk/ seat without Egbon Dan. How does one cope with that? They say time heals all wounds. Does it? Will it?
While Egbon Dan’s professional legacies are truly well earned and have been spoken and written about, it is his humanity that’s a measure of the man. That’s what I will hang on to.
As he’s buried today, I’ll say, iku doro (death has caused he bitterest sting). Rest well, my dear Egbon Dan, a true brother. I will miss you, as you would say, HUGELY.
Soji Akinrinade, a prolific journalist, writes from Lagos
