Tragedy Of Life Is Not Death, But The Dream We Kill… Obasanjo’s Letter To Nigerians
Letter-writing Olusegun Obasanjo, who served as Nigerian Military Head of State from 1976 to 1979 and as the country’s civilian President from 1999 to 2007, in what is believed to be his final letter to Nigerians declared, inter-alia: “the real tragedy of life is not death; it is the dreams we kill while we are alive.”
Read the full letter:
My fellow Countrymen,
People tell you that life is very long. “Live easily,” they say. “There’s still plenty of time.”
I am ninety-four years old as I write these lines, and I say with complete certainty: that is not true. Life is not long; it is as brief as the blink of an eye. Now that I am about to le@ve this world, my heart wishes to entrust a few truths to you.
I earned wealth, saw respect, built a name—but tonight all of it feels like dust lying in the corner of my room. If I stretch out my hand, nothing will go with me. The things I held close to my chest all my life now feel like sand slipping through my fingers.
Before I go, I want to lighten my heart. Some things have remained buried inside me for seventy years. I do not want you to lie on a bed one day, remembering your past life, and feel a sting in your heart with every memory.
The first truth: Stop living in the waiting room.
A large part of my life passed in waiting.
In school, I thought life would begin once I got my certificate.
When I got a job in the army, I waited for the weekend.
After marriage, I waited for my children to grow up.
When they grew up, I waited for retirement.
I treated every present moment as just a phase, as if real life was waiting somewhere ahead. I kept staring at the distant horizon and never felt the ground beneath my feet. Today I understand there is no final destination. The journey itself is life—and instead of living it, I merely passed through it.
I still remember a rainy Tuesday. I was thirty years old, sitting in my office, staring at the clock. Rain was pouring outside, and inside my heart was restless. I wanted time to pass quickly. I wanted to escape that day.
Today, if someone asked me, I would give all my earnings to relive just that one day—the chair, the silence, the sound of rain against the glass, and the strength in my legs.
Perhaps you are doing the same. You say, “I’ll be happy when I get promoted. I’ll feel peace when I have more money. My life will be complete when I find the right person.” You are selling today in exchange for tomorrow—and that tomorrow may never come.
Do not waste your days like this. One day you will realize those ordinary days were the most precious.
The second truth: Gold cannot be eaten.
I spent fifty years building an empire. Long hours of work. Missed my children’s birthdays. Even during festivals, my mind was stuck at the office. I saw the waiting in my wife’s eyes and comforted myself by saying, “I’m doing this for them.”
I bought a big house, an expensive car, fine clothes. I believed these things increased my worth, made me appear bigger in the eyes of others.
Now that my departure is near, I realize none of it will go with me. The house will belong to someone else. The walls will be painted according to someone else’s taste. The car will end up in a junkyard. The money will remain just a number. Tonight it cannot hold my hand or tell me not to be afraid.
I remember a day when my daughter called me into the garden. She had found a tiny insect and wanted me to sit with her and watch it. There was joy in her eyes. I said, “Not now, I’m busy. I’m earning money.”
She quietly turned away. The sadness in her eyes still burns my heart. I lost a precious moment with my daughter in exchange for a few paper notes.
If you are exhausting yourself only for a paycheck, pause. Your workplace will replace you quickly—but your home will never forget you. Gather wealth of memories, not possessions.
The third truth: Tear down the walls around your heart.
When I was young, I thought I was strong. I never apologized first. I hesitated to speak what was in my heart. I believed that if a man softened, people would see him as weak. I rarely expressed love—perhaps afraid my image of toughness would break.
I had a brother. We grew up together. Played in the same courtyard. Sat at the same table. Shared joys and sorrows. One day, we became upset over something trivial.
Today, honestly, I do not even remember what it was. Maybe money. Maybe an argument. But at that time I was certain I was right. I decided he would come first.
Days passed, then months, then years. On every festival my heart wanted to pick up the phone—but ego stood in the way. I kept telling myself there was still time.
One day the phone rang—but it wasn’t him. The news came that he had suffered a sudden stroke and passed away. I stood before his cold face, and my insistence on being right felt meaningless.
I was right—but I was alone. Ten years of laughter, ten years of conversations, ten years of festivals—I had laid them all at the feet of ego. That day I understood: some relationships are saved not by logic, but by love.
If you love someone, say it today. If you are wrong, apologize today. There is no promise of tomorrow.
The fourth truth: Fear is a false shadow.
At twenty-two, I wanted to become a writer. I had a notebook filled with ideas, dreams, stories. But I never wrote a book about those dreams and stories. I was afraid people would laugh, that I would fail, that I would not be taken seriously.
I chose the safe path and spent my life fulfilling other people’s dreams. Today my hands tremble. Even if I want to, I cannot hold a pen properly. My eyes have grown dim. That book is still inside me—and perhaps it will be buried in silence with me. Instead of it, I wrote “My Command”, and “Under My Watch”.
The real tragedy of life is not death; it is the dreams we kill while we are alive.
Perhaps the cemetery is the richest place in the world—because buried there are all the unwritten novels, unsung songs, and unstarted dreams.
Do not add to that silent treasure. Do not keep postponing the desire in your heart. Take a step. Even if you stumble, at least you will be able to say, “I tried.”
Better to step into the river once than to stand on the shore forever thinking about it. “If only” is the most painful phrase. In old age, it wakes a person in the silence of the night.
The ticking of my clock now sounds clearer. I have laid down the stones of worry, ego, and fear. I am now just a helpless human being—just as I was on the day I was born—empty-handed.
You are still alive. You have another day. Do not waste it. Look at your hands. Move your fingers. Feel your breath. It is all a miracle.
Do not wait until you are ninety-four to realize how beautiful life is. Feel it now.
I am about to close my eyes. I hope my words find a place in your heart like a seed.
Live—not for me, but for truth. Live from the heart. Live fully for yourself. Live for your loved ones.
Live now.
Goodbye…
Summary:
Life is not long; it is as brief as a blink. Stop living in the waiting room. Gold cannot be eaten, and relationships sacrificed at the feet of ego never return. Do not bury your dreams in the graveyards of fear—live today.
To DSS Boss: What Was Good For Ese Oruru Must Also Be Good For Walida Abdulhadi, By Yushau A. Shuaib
Among the current crop of Nigeria’s security chiefs, perhaps none is as widely respected for his professional record as the Director General of the Department of State Services (DSS), Adeola Oluwatosin Ajayi. Since his assumption of office, he has been celebrated as a quintessential officer who is neither a religious bigot nor an ethnocentric partisan. His track record in states like Bauchi and Kaduna reflects a man who understands the delicate fabric of our diverse society and has often supported Muslim communal activities with the same zeal he applies to national security.
It is precisely because of this high regard that I find myself profoundly bewildered. Why is it that this same leadership, credited with a commitment to due process, appears to be wavering in the face of a clear court order? I am referring to the case of Walida Abdulhadi Ibrahim, a young Muslim girl from Jigawa State, and the stalled prosecution of a DSS operative, Ifeanyi Onyewuenyi, accused of her abduction, sexual exploitation and forced conversion to Christianity.
This disturbing saga echoes the Ese Oruru case. The nation vividly remembers how a teenage girl from Bayelsa was taken to Kano by Yunusa Dahiru (popularly known as Yellow), where she was allegedly converted to Islam and impregnated. The public outcry at the time was overwhelming. The media, civil society and the international community demanded swift justice.
The Bayelsa State Government under Governor Seriake Dickson intervened decisively providing medical care, insisting on a thorough investigation and ensuring prosecution. Yunusa Dahiru was eventually convicted and jailed. Ese Oruru received rehabilitation and later graduated from the University of Ilorin in flying colour
In my recent essay, From Ese Oruru to Walida: Unmasking Selective Outrage, I asked a rhetorical question that now feels prophetic: Would Walidas case attract the same moral panic? Or would it be quietly buried because it doesn’t fit a convenient narrative of religious persecution? My fears are being validated by the day.
A coalition of civil society and faith-based organisations recently raised the alarm in Abuja, accusing the DSS of violating a subsisting court order directing the release of 16-year-old Walida to her family. They specifically named DSS officer, Ifeanyi Onyewuenyi as central to the allegations and called for his prosecution should any culpability be established.
A petition filed by Gamji Lawchain paints a disturbing picture: a minor allegedly abducted two years ago, held in unlawful custody and denied access to her parents. Her father maintains that the trauma of this ordeal contributed directly to the untimely death of Walida’s mother.
At the heart of the controversy is the DSS acting simultaneously as custodian and investigator, a clear conflict of interest. Compounding this is a suspicious dispute over her age. While the family insists she is 16, there are attempts to portray her as a 22-year-old adult. An independent, document-based verification of her age is essential. Anything less would undermine the integrity of our child protection laws.
Strangely, a group known as the Arewa Youth Assembly (AYA) has issued a counter message, claiming that she left home in 2023 and was taken by a woman called Maryam later identified as Chinaza who allegedly converted her to Christianity. The AYA leader, Salihu Danlami, further asserted that Walida underwent a mental evaluation and is stable and happy with her captor. Such claims overlook the well documented psychological phenomenon known as Stockholm Syndrome.
We have seen this before in the North-East; rescued Chibok and Dapchi girls have, at times, expressed a desire to return to their abusers after rescue from ISWAP/Boko Haram, exhibiting emotional bonds with their captors as a survival-driven coping mechanism. A girl who has been serially abused and impregnated outside of matrimony cannot be declared “mentally stable” by a youth group in a press conference. She requires clinical rehabilitation, not media interviews.
The DSS must comply fully with judicial directives concerning Walidas custody and potential reunification with her family. A neutral, independent inquiry into the allegations against the DSS operative should be conducted. If found guilty, he must face the full weight of the lawjust as Yunusa Dahiru did in the Ese Oruru case.
There must also be transparent verification of Walidas age through credible documentation and independent scrutiny. NAPTIP should assume a leading role, given the child-protection and trafficking dimensions.
Equally, the Jigawa State Government under Governor Umar Namadi must not remain on the sidelines. A decade ago, Governor Seriake Dickson of Bayelsa did not treat Ese Oruru’s case as someone else’s burden. He intervened decisively and stood by the victim. Jigawa should do no less for Walida.
The media and the public must resist the urge to frame this matter in inflammatory religious terms. During the Ese Oruru case, northern traditional rulers and religious leaders were hastily accused of complicity. We must not repeat that mistake or allow this situation to be cast as a religious confrontation. Just as many argued in 2016 that Yunusa’s actions did not represent Islam, we must also acknowledge that the alleged actions of Onyewuenyi do not represent Christianity or the DSS.
We cannot afford another cycle of collective suspicion. Responsible communication not sensationalism must guide public discourse. This is not a religious contest. It is a child rights issue. Justice must never depend on religious identity.
If Nigeria is to remain a nation governed by law rather than sentiment, then institutions, especially the DSS must uphold due process, transparency and accountability. This case must follow the same standard of judicial openness and constitutional procedure that defined the high profile Ese Oruru investigation, which the police handled with commendable neutrality.
I therefore respectfully appeal to the Director General of the DSS to act swiftly, transparently and in full fidelity to the rule of law. As a man of established integrity, he must ensure that justice is neither delayed nor distorted. Let it never be said that under his leadership, the law became a respecter of persons or uniforms.
In cases involving alleged child exploitation or forced conversion, justice delayed is justice questioned. Institutional integrity is measured not by rhetoric but by response.
What was good for Ese Oruru must, in the interest of fairness and equity, also be good for Walida.
Yushau A. Shuaib is the author of “An Encounter with the Spymaster” and can be reached via yashuaib@yashuaib.com.