1he cousin of my wife staying with us quietly walked into my room yesterday, May 17, 2026, after taking permission, to simply hand his handphone to me. He apologized for waking me up from sleep, which I usually has after my early morning devotion. When I looked at the phone screen, what I saw jolted me up. I didn’t know when I shouted out with “inna lilLahi waina ileihi Rajiuun” (From Allah we came and to Him we are returning).
It was the announcement of the death of Prince Nazir Ado Ibrahim, son of the immediate past Ohinoyi (King) of Ebiraland in Kogi State, late Dr. Ado Ibrahim.
My eyes cleared immediately from the unfinished sleep. I jumped to my feet. I began to repeat the same words… Inna lilLahi waina Ilaihi Rajiuun.
The reality gradually dawned on me that I had never met Prince Nazir physically all the while that I interacted with him. His death hit me so bad as though the two of us just parted a few minutes before his death.
As a matter of fact, the contact number of Prince Nazir was given to me by his father, late Dr. Ado Ibrahim at the time I was gathering materials for the purpose of writing a biography on him. The late King had been a witness to Ebira-English Dictionary which I authored. He actually offered prayer for its successful outing as far back as 1996,a year to his ascension of the reverend stool. The Dictionary was launched in Kano.
The late King was also instrumental to the launching of the Holy Qur’an Translation into Ebira language, which I Co-authored. He personally hosted the launching in his famous Azad Palace. He gave out the sum of N2 million in cash.
The two successfully completed projects gave me the courage to sell the idea of writing his biography. He bought the idea without any form of resistance. From then, he made it so easy for me to be close to him, so much that I could walk into his palace at anytime; I could call him on his special private line from anywhere anytime.
In the process of interacting, and on my request, he obliged me the contact numbers of his children: Prince Malik. Prince Colonel Ahmed, Prince Nazir and that of his Personal Assistant, Prince Alonge. The idea was that I should have access to his top ranking children for whatever material I would need from them.
Of all his children whose contact numbers he gave me, it was only Prince Nazir that responded to me positively, with humility.
In September 2024, after a series of chats via WhatsApp, I brought up the issue of the biography of his father. At the time, I had done 75 percent work on the compilation of relevant materials. What remained were interviews with relevant people connected to him in one way or another, including his children, mother (s) of the children, friends, associates and so on.
Prince Nazir welcomed my suggestion that I should be given a go-ahead with the project. He pleaded with me to give him time to consult with his siblings who would be home on October 29, 2024 for the first anniversary prayers for their father, late King Ado Ibrahim. He died on October 29, 2023.
Two weeks after October 29, I engaged him in another chat, requesting to know the outcome of his consultations with his siblings. He responded promptly by pleading with me to give him more time to get the acceptance of what he called “complex family.”
With such response, I was wise enough to read between the lines. I comforted myself that Prince Nazir was just trying to be nice and diplomatic. I therefore decided to rest the matter and allow it to take its natural course.
At another time, I invited him to the launching of a book by the Guild of Corporate Online Publishers (GOCOP) in Abuja in October 2024. He promised to attend the event, which I considered to be an opportunity for the two of us to meet one-on-one. However, he could not make it to the event as he was engaged in another very important event in Lagos. He however transferred the sum of N250,000 to my account and asked me to present it as the contribution to the book launch in the name of his late father, King Ado Ibrahim. Two copies of the book were packaged for me to be delivered to him. As a matter of fact, I was praying fervently to God to make it possible for us to meet one-on-one.
What seemed an opportunity came last year when I invited him to grace the special annual get-together of Ozuka Agidima Worldwide, a prominent Clan in Ebiraland to which I belong. He gave me his word that he would attend. On the day of the event, December 6, 2025, I virtually glued my eyes to entrance gate of the venue. He didn’t seem to be coming. I had to call him on his handphone. He apologized that he couldn’t make it and that he was actually in Lagos airport getting set to fly out.
Since then, I cautioned myself not to take his humility and respect for granted, because each time we engaged in discussion, he would be responding to me as “sir.” I decided to apply some kind of wisdom, believing that he needed to be allowed to “flex” without any kind of cajolement.
One can therefore imagine the kind of feeling that I had when the news of his death was announced to me on Sunday, May 17, 2026.
This was a man that felt free talking to me whenever I contacted him. This was the man who was so close to me, but the man I never really met in life.
Prince Nazir, I pray to Allah subhannahu wata Allah to forgive all your shortcomings and admit you in His Aljanatu Firdausi. Adieu!!!
Yusuf Ozi-Usman, nipr
Tom Ohikere, a childhood friend and brother narrates as follows:
My dearest brother, Prince Nazir Ado Ibrahim of the Royal House of the Atta’s in Ebiraland, Kogi state has passed and it has hit me hard.
We grew up together, shared an eventful and rich childhood with many remarkable experiences and went through thick and thin together for 60 years!
I thought we would grow old together and share the memories of our childhood whilst in retirement.
I thought we would comfort each other in old age whilst the world quietly passed us by.
I thought so much and planned so much but alas you are gone!
You were one in a million brother. Always putting smiles on everyone’s faces.
I remember the days of Atta Lodge in Yaba, your dear father, the late Ohinoyi’s house, where we all used to meet with friends and have a great time in the late 1970’s and early 1980’s.
I remember the days in Chelsea at my apartment in Pier House, my fathers house in Brighton and your father’s mansion in Belgravia.
I remember the days of Lagos Polo Club, Ikoyi Club and Apapa Club where we used to gather and move around in our fearsome and daring “gang” of wild and adventurous friends!
I remember the boxing and karate lessons we used to have and what a great warrior and courageous fighter you were.
I remember how we were at JB’ s house in a place called Bourdillon near the National Stadium in Lagos and police raided the place!
I remember how we fought back to back and shoulder to shoulder together against our assailants whenever either of us was attacked or threatened.
We never lost brother and they never had us down! That is what made our relationship so special. Nothing & no-one could come between us.
We spoke a strange language to one another and we communicated in code and with our eyes.
We walked the dark side together and, by the grace of God, we both survived.
I remember how we learnt to ride horses together & play polo and how we used to both love marking the streets and treading the paths of the rougher sides of old Lagos in flashy cars whilst flexing our hard and crazy muscles.
I remember the rivalries we all had over the girls, I remember the fights with the white boys and the locals, I remember the squabbles we all used to have over the most insignificant things, I remember the love that our band of brothers shared, I remember the numerous controversies we got into, I remember the numerous punishments that we jointly faced from our respective parents for our many wild outings and I remember how we used to go to night clubs like Legends, Tramp, Main Squeeze, Monkberrys and others in London and Studio 54 and Xenon in New York!
I remember visiting you in a place called Geneva in upstate New York and how we drove to meet our brother Des Braithwaite in Syracuse!
I remember your Porsche 928 S and his and mine and I rember how, in the various cities in the world, the police would stop and ask us how we could afford such cars at such a young age.
We laughed them to scorn because they did not know who & what we were & more often than not we served them with hot words & left them with teary eyes & red faces!
That was in the early 1980’s and my goodness, we had fun!
We lived life to the fullest with Azad your older brother, Des Braithwaite, Kunle Braithwaite, Tonye Amachree, Deremi Ajidahun, Layeni Fagbayi, Gbegi & Dapo Ojora, Oscar Ibru, Gregg Mbadiwe, Gbolahun Sanyaolu, Ade Adetona, Ike Monu & so many others.
Later in the 1980’s you became my in-law after I married your beautiful cousin Saratu Atta, who was the daughter of your Uncle, the late Governor Adamu Atta of the old Kwara state.
She and I have a beautiful daughter called Folake who you used to dote over with such affection & who you had a soft spot for when she was a baby.
So much happened since that time but through it all you and I loved each other in the same way that Achilles and Patrocholus loved one another.
Always watching each others backs & standing up for one another, often fighting over small matters & always coming back together again.
Sadly we did not spend much time together in the last few years and were only in touch from time to time but when I heard of your passing earlier today something broke in me.
I realised that you were literally the living symbol of my lost childhood and the rallying point and star of those of us that grew up with you and loved you.
You were the bridge between the North and the South: who spoke Yoruba better than I did but who was proud of his noble Ebira Northern heritage and his Royal roots.
You were also the bridge between the children of the elites who went to the best schools from a very young age in England and those who went to the very best schools from a young age in Nigeria.
We fought gang wars between the two groups in those days whenever we came home for holidays from abroad at the parties we used to meet and the various social clubs we all belonged to but you brought us all together.
Ours was a generation of love and brotherhood which cannot be matched or replaced.
We lived life to the fullest, we had it all, we saw it all, we watched each other’s backs and accepted each other as we were.
Those were the days when brotherhood meant something. Those were the days when loyalty was everything.
Those were the days when we took pride in who we were and in being Nigerians.
Those were the days when we, as a people and a generation, bowed to no-one and had it all.
Those were the days we rocked London, New York, Paris, Athens, Cannes, Marbella, Malaga, Nassau, Monte Carlo, St. Tropez, St. Moritz, Juan Le Pins, Acapulco and much of the world without a care and with no apology.
We were tough, proud, wealthy, healthy, strong and feared young Nigerian men who had everything that we could ever want and we moved together like a pack of young wild lions.
Those were the days my brother and we thought they would never end. Those were thevdays when our parents would worry about us and our futures and we would exchange notes and share jokes behind their backs and make a mockery of their fears.
Then came adulthood with all its challenges and responsibilities and I believe that we all kept the flag flying and acquitted ourselves well.
Outside of that our nation changed and the carefree days of joy and abundance for all came to an end as the fortunes of our beloved Nigeria dwindled.
We pray for better days ahead and that our children and grandchildren can enjoy the essence and greatness of our people and country the way we once did.
Meanwhile my brother I commit you into the hands of God.
May He forgive you for all your sins and grant you eternal peace and rest in heaven.
May your name never fade away or be forgotten and may your legacy, a great legacy built by your distinguished ancestors and forefathers, remain strong.
I miss you already. I miss our fellowship. I miss our shared experiences and our many secrets.
I miss our joint childhood and all our other brothers many of whom have passed on.
Ours is a dwindling generation.
We had our time and God was good to us. We had everything and cannot complain.
Now it is time for you to rest brother and for those of us you have left behind to accept the inevitablity of what lies ahead.
God is with us and you are with Him. Greet our brothers that crossed over before you and tell them that FFK sends his love.
I pray for your precious soul brother and know that I shall NEVER forget you, whether in this world or the next.
Rest well Suku Su and may the Lord strengthen, bless and protect your family and your wife, children and loved ones that you have left behind.
