Remembering Two Great Men: Dele Cole and Emmanuel Uduaghan

I cannot remember when I first met Ambassador Patrick Dele Cole. I had read his insightful opinion pieces in the Guardian. He was part of the early days of Nigerian journalism. Our paths crossed again during Obasanjo's time. Ambassador Cole was stylish, charming, and full of life. He looked like a man who had everything going for him. His voice was not loud but had a calm strength. In his articles and conversations, he made his points clearly and with authority. He was confident and his views showed he knew his stuff. He could persuade you without being confrontational.

When he spoke, his words had the focus of a poker player. I enjoyed listening to him when we met. Our last conversation was at the Port Harcourt International Airport last year. We were both waiting for different flights. He was heading to Lagos and I was going to Abuja. When they announced his flight delay, I actually felt happy and told him so. ‘You are a Bishop, you should not rejoice over the misfortunes of your flock,’ he said. I replied, ‘But you did not sympathize with me when they delayed my flight,’ and we continued our chat. We discussed Nigeria and the ongoing problems in the Niger Delta. He suggested we should plan a longer discussion. He complimented my work in Ogoniland but noted that the people's issues were still there. We thought about a meeting, but he looked weak, so I did not push for details. We agreed that we needed to talk more.

At first, I thought Ambassador Cole was from Lagos and part of one of the big migrant families there. One day, I read his article on the Ijaw people in the Guardian. His points were sharp and straightforward. I called him and told him I had just read his piece. I asked him if he was not afraid the Ijaws might be angry with him for what he wrote. ‘You definitely know what you are talking about,’ I said, ‘but your piece has so many stereotypes that it may upset people.’ He replied, ‘But I am an Ijaw man myself!’ I was shocked. I thought, how could I complain more than the person affected?

In the first year of Obasanjo's presidency, I met Ambassador Dele Cole again at the Hilton Hotel in Abuja late at night. It was about 11pm after a long day at the Oputa Panel sittings. He spotted me before I saw him and called out, ‘Father Kukah, please, I need to talk to you. I was asking for you and they said you are here.’ I wondered why he wanted me. He explained, ‘The President is going to Ndjamena tomorrow morning to address some African leaders. We do not have a speech for him yet. Can you write a speech for us by 5am?’ I looked at him in shock. ‘What do I have to do with writing a speech for the president? You have speechwriters,’ I told him. He smiled and leaned closer, ‘Please, do this for us.’ I did not answer him but he seemed sure we had a deal. I went to my room and by about 1am, I had a draft speech delivered to him. Later, I saw the media reports and it looked like he had not even edited it. He later called to thank me and said the speech was well received by the president and his audience.

A few months later, I ran into Ambassador Dele Cole again, this time at the airport in Lagos. I decided to tease him, ‘So, Ambassador Cole, you literally forced me to write a speech for the president. Now you are giving out ambassadorial positions, yet you cannot recommend me for one?’ He laughed and said, ‘Why are you in a hurry? Actually, Eritrea is still vacant and I had already thought of you for that position.’ I joked, ‘But they are at war.’ He replied, ‘Yes, but you are a priest and that is your main selling point. You will help end their wars.’

May God comfort his family, the Ijaw nation, and our great country.

Dr. Emmanuel Uduaghan, like Al Barney in James Hadley Chase's ‘An Ear to the Ground,’ was a politician who understood the people's needs. He spoke to the ordinary folks, connecting with them directly. It was always refreshing to hear him speak to the people of Delta. My first encounter with him was when one of his commissioners invited me to speak in Asaba during his first term as Governor. We built a good relationship. He invited me again during his second term, this time with the Sultan of Sokoto. He called me and said, ‘I want you to discuss Anger Management with us.’ I joked, ‘Are you angry with your commissioners or your wife?’ Instead of answering, he said, ‘I want this conference because I want to learn to manage anger better. I have made some decisions in anger that I regret.’ I replied, ‘You might be better off with a psychologist or a professor.’ He insisted, ‘You are more than a professor of psychology and you are my choice.’ He asked me to help persuade the Sultan to join us. In the end, both of us spoke in Asaba to a large crowd, which included a psychologist who gave a great speech.

We kept in touch after he left office. In 2014, we finished refurbishing our clinic in Sokoto. I invited him to the commissioning. He asked, ‘Why do you keep inviting me?’ I said, ‘It is a Mother and Child Clinic and I want you to speak to the women in a way they can relate to.’ He agreed to come.

On July 28, 2014, he arrived in Sokoto. It was a memorable event. His connection with the women was special as he spoke in pidgin. He said, ‘Bishop Kukah don build Clinic for una. If una de come here, to born pickin no go hard when de time reach. I be doctor myself and I know how women de behave when time to born don come. When pain come, dem go abuse husband, saying, useless man, stupid man, idiot. You no go ever come near me again. All dat na shakara. After she born finish, small time she go open hand begin cry. She go say, my loving husband, where you commot go? Make you come take me oooo. I am ready for you.’ The crowd was thrilled. The women understood his message as only Dr. Uduaghan could deliver it. The Sultan also encouraged people to come to the clinic, saying, ‘Mosquito de go church, mosquito de go mosque. So, mosquito no get religion.’

Dr. Uduaghan’s visit was encouraging. He announced the donation of a beautiful ambulance to the clinic. It is still in good condition and will remind us of his great memory here in Sokoto.

In 2015, my friend, Professor Pat Utomi, ran for governor of Delta and had some disagreements with Dr. Uduaghan. It became a big topic on social media. One evening, I called Dr. Uduaghan to ask what was happening between him and my friend. He said, ‘Nothing o, my Bishop. Pat and I have no real issues, but you know this is politics; little things get exaggerated.’ I suggested we all meet to talk it out. He agreed. I called Pat and told him what Dr. Uduaghan said. Pat said they were friends and there were no serious issues. He agreed to meet at the Kukah Centre. We spent less than an hour talking. They shook hands and that was that. I said a prayer and it was done.

I really liked Dr. Uduaghan. He was surprised I cared about him. One day he told me it was rare because most people move on after leaving office. We laughed about it. I did not know he had been sick for a long time. I saw photos of him on social media showing he was ill. I tried to reach him several times but got no response.

One evening in June or July, I called again, and his wife answered. I asked how he was doing. She said she would try to connect us. I held the line for a while but finally hung up. I thought if we were meant to talk, she would call back. She did not, so I decided to remember him in prayers. He was a great man and I am grateful our paths crossed. May God grant him eternal peace and comfort his wife, children, and the people of Delta State. Amen.