*Chief Oluwole Awolowo as a boss and publisher

By Folu Olamiti

I called him ‘My Publisher.’ But he was more. He was a brother, an inspiration, and a boss. A kindred spirit of the pen. Even years after my tour of duty in Nigerian Tribune, he never ceased telling me that ‘Folu, this is your paper o. Anything you can do to help its continuous growth is welcomed, any day , any time.’

That was Uncle Wole Awolowo for you. You can then imagine my shock and sorrow when the terrible news began to filter in that hot and windy Wednesday of March 27, 2013.
Uncle Wole is dead! The news swept in like a blaze ignited by a rampaging tornado. It hit the heart with the heart and soul with the force of thunderbolt.

A call from a younger professional colleague in the Premium Times Online that I fondly call Idris made the sad news a vivid reality. “Good evening sir,” he said as I stepped out of a meeting that hectic day. “There is a news item on twitter that Chief Oluwole Awolowo has passed on.”

I asked him what he had just said. He repeated it. I told him I would call him back. I never did. I didn’t remember to return the call because almost immediately he dropped, another call came in. It was from the newsroom of the Nigerian Tribune, confirming my worst fear.

I was already in transit for a week retreat and could not call off the trip to dash to Ikenne. Like millions of Nigerians who love the Awolowo family, I was devastated. But I was somewhat comforted, later, by the outpouring of emotions and sympathies expressed by Nigerians, at home and in the diaspora, over the passing of Uncle Wole.  Condolence messages and sympathy visits to Mama H.I.D. Awolowo have been pouring like a deluge on the painful loss of her only surviving son.

I joined the Nigerian Tribune  in 1972 as a cub reporter under the tutelage of Alhaji Lateef Jakande who later groomed me into a crack reporter.

Papa Awolowo noticed my zeal for hard work and I found myself as one of his favourites that he picked me to cover his electioneering campaigns in 1979 and 1983 respectively.

During this period, I did not see much of Uncle Wole. He was a little distanced from the flurry of activities of Papa Awo. Though he had his own political philosophy, Uncle Wole was into various economic businesses.

Uncle Wole was a free-minded person whose friends and associates cut across political lines. He took a shot at an elective office at Apapa Constituency during Papa Awo’s second bid for the Presidency.

Papa Awo at first did not to bother himself with Uncle Wole’s political ambition but had to change his mind knowing that the political fortune of his son or otherwise would impact on him too. Papa Awo went full blast to campaign for Uncle Wole and he won convincingly. Uncle Wole needed the press and that assignment fell on me and gave me the opportunity to have my first close contact with him. He looked simple but under this seeming simplicity hid a strong and principled character.

Papa Awo passed on to glory in 1987 and the mantle of overseeing Nigerian Tribune titles fell on him. Uncle Wole knew how close I was to Papa and Mama Awo and accorded me that respect to freely ply my trade in the establishment.

I edited the Sunday Tribune for six years, Nigerian Tribune for six years, became Executive Director Operations for three years overseeing the production, advertisement, circulation and transport sections. Later, I was moved to head the editorial department as Executive Director Publications.

In all these assignments, Uncle Wole gave me a free hand. He was also passionate with the survival of the paper to the extent of having sleepless nights. Not only that, we travelled together to almost all the key cities of the world attending one seminar or the other in search of making the Nigerian Tribune titles the flagship of newspapers in Nigeria.

In early 1990s, we were on a trip to South Africa to attend the International Press Institute (IPI) annual conference and there was this chance meeting with the then President-elect, Dr. Nelson Mandela at NICON Hotel in Cape Town. Uncle Wole was introduced to him at the lounge and Mandela’s eyes brightened and he warmly shook the hands of Uncle Wole, saying “Your father was a great politician”. I caught that moment with my camera and celebrated it on the pages of Nigerian Tribune newspapers.

Those of us who were close to him knew his strong points and his weaknesses. He was humble to a fault. He hated hurting people and naturally gave to people freely. He always had ready-made envelopes for those in need.

However, some people who milled around him explored this gentle nature to feed him with lies, half-truths and unfounded rumours about those Uncle Wole had soft spots for.

An incident happened when I was the Executive Director Of Operations. He gave me an assignment to travel to London twice and Germany once to meet credible suppliers of printing machine. On my return, I had a meeting with our senior accountants on how we could save enough without going to the banks for loan. I was told that our accounts were in the red. I did not believe them and made some comments. But to my surprise, words got to publisher and my comments were twisted to mean I was prying into what should not be my concern. That day, I was in Lagos and I had to call on Uncle Wole on my way to Ibadan.

Uncle Wole was not a pretender. As soon as he saw me, he flared up and said, “Folu, what is your concern about finance in The Tribune?”. I took my time to explain that he gave me an assignment to source for funds for a new machine and I thought we should look inward first. If we were making daily sales, it won’t be too much to start saving five million naira every month, and in six months we would have something substantial as deposit. When he heard my explanation, his anger evaporated. He smiled and said he had been misinformed and he  was back to his normal self almost immediately.

Another rumour was about me having a house in London. It took Uncle Wole to travel with me to London on an official assignment to know the truth that I was, indeed, staying with my bosom friend, Professor Okanlawon Onagbesan. He also confirmed that I had no other place I spent my yearly holiday in London than with this my friend.

Ten years after I left The Tribune, my love for him never waned. I am in close touch with some of his children who see me as their uncle too.

Uncle Wole died in active service. On that day, September 30 2006, he was on his daily routine to The Tribune office in Ibadan. He shed his blood for a legacy left behind by his father, the sage, Pa Awo, and died during the passion week for our Lord Jesus Christ who shed His blood to redeem us.

So, let us see the death of Uncle Wole as a price by a sacrificial lamb that shed his blood so that The Tribune will  continue to go from strength to strength.