We did not set out to be brothers; our bond unfolded with natural grace. Kunle Ade-Adeleye, Mobolade Omonijo, and I became brothers by destiny.
My journey with Kunle began in 1984 as postgraduate students at the University of Lagos. Six years later, in March 1990, I joined Kunle and Mobolade at The Nigerian Economist magazine, where Mobolade had been a mainstay since 1987. I arrived just as he was making his harrowing escape from Liberia, where he had been trapped while reporting on one of Africa’s bloodiest civil wars.
Mobolade was trained for this. From his formative years at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, to his advanced training at the Thomson Foundation in Cardiff, Wales, he had honed the tools of a master storyteller and an uncompromising truth-seeker. His terrifying experience as a war correspondent was later immortalised in his seminal work, Doe: The Liberian Tragedy.
At The Nigerian Economist, he stood out as a master craftsman of prose and our resident political historian. His analytical depth was formidable, his mastery of English exceptional, and the internal logic of his arguments virtually infallible.
Behind his gentle mien was a spirit cast in iron. He hated injustice like a plague. During the June 12 political saga, the three of us shared a firm, radical conviction. When we realised the magazine’s editorial integrity had been compromised, or appeared to be so, we resigned in that order — Kunle, Mobolade, and I — with nothing to fall back on.
What followed tested us. Mobolade converted his car into a commercial taxi, plying the Lagos-Ibadan Expressway. I occasionally joined him. Later, with a few like-minded compatriots, Mobolade and I formed a group for the actualisation of Chief M.K.O. Abiola’s mandate. General Sani Abacha had driven all opposition voices underground. We planned to link up with Professor Wole Soyinka, already in exile, and the late Chief Bola Ige, one of the leaders of the National Democratic Coalition (NADECO) in Ibadan. We succeeded in linking up with Ige. Abacha’s sudden death on June 8, 1998 ended that adventure.
What we did in those dark years affirmed Walter Rodney’s truth: that the human spirit has a remarkable capacity to rise above oppression. Mobolade was one of the unsung, unseen, and unheard heroes of June 12.
And yet, for all his intellectual rigour and disciplined lifestyle — even long before he answered the divine call into the priesthood — Mobolade was a joyful, vibrant soul. His pedigree as the son of an Anglican priest made his fusion of journalism and priesthood quite seamless. We shared affectionate nicknames that remained our customary greeting until death parted us. His ingenuity in cracking jokes knew no bounds.
In hindsight, the true catalyst of our affinity was our shared foundation as political scientists. That common background framed our understanding of power and society. Far beyond our degrees, we were devoted “workers of the brain.” We lived by the maxim of Canadian media titan Roy Thomson: “Think until it hurts.” The rate at which Mobolade conceived, wrote, and published books was breathtaking. He published most of them when technological disruption was still a distant prospect.
Over the years, our trio — Kunle, Mobolade, and I — ventured into publishing together on many attempts. A defining test came in 1995 when the Lagos Chamber of Commerce and Industry engaged Kunle to conceive a flagship business publication. Mobolade and I joined hands to package what became Policy magazine. It instantly captured public attention. The Kunle Fagbemi-led formidable team later included Kunle Abimbola, Bayo Alabi, and the late Femi Olatunde. They were unforgettable years.
Outside our professional life, we became family friends. We celebrated the good things of life — marriages and child-naming ceremonies — together, just as we shared its pains. Though we held different social outlooks, Mobolade was never judgemental. He was as liberal as any intellectual could be and as disciplined as any devout Christian could be. Ours was a friendship bonded in love, compassion, and mutual respect.
As a political journalist, he did not merely report the news; he dissected it. His analytical clarity made him a mainstay in national discourse, especially on TVC’s Journalists’ Hangout, where he helped ordinary citizens navigate complex socio-political realities with balance and insight.
With his passing, the Nigerian media and the public intellectual community have lost one of their most principled voices. In an era when public commentary often bows to transient pressures, he engaged national issues not with cynicism but with a constructive desire to see Nigeria fulfil its immense promise. He wrote not for financial return but out of a deep passion for record-keeping and truth. Those works will speak for and about him from generation to generation.
Today, my friend and brother, Revd Mobolade Omonijo, will be committed to Mother Earth.
It is with a heart heavy with grief, yet anchored in quiet gratitude, that we bid farewell to a soul who touched so many lives. Revd Mobolade was more than just a friend; he was a steadfast companion, a mentor, and a true pillar of light. His voice carried the comforting warmth of unwavering grace, and his presence brought a gentle, soothing peace into every room he graced.
As we yield his mortal body to the quiet embrace of the soil, we take heart knowing that a life lived in selfless devotion and love never truly ends. The ground receives only the physical frame; his spirit, his kindness, and his enduring legacy remain deeply etched in our memories and woven into our lives. Every prayer he offered, every word of counsel he shared, and every quiet moment of fellowship will continue to resonate like a timeless melody.
Rest well, dear brother. Sleep in celestial peace until the dawn of the resurrection, when we shall meet to part no more. Your journey on this earth is complete, but your memory will forever shine brightly in our hearts.
Adediran,
CEO, Newspaper Proprietors’ Association of Nigeria (NPAN), writes via olusegunadediran@gmail.com
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