By Oluwatoyin Mathnuel
It didn’t start yesterday. Not last week. Not even last year. It began way back in the 1980s—1984, to be exact—when I was a primary four pupil.
My beloved father, Engr. Bolatito Oyelowo, the man I adored, didn’t just admire Former President Muhammadu Buhari; he passed that admiration on to me like a family heirloom. He sold it to me, instilled it in me, made it part of my moral DNA—regardless of what the world said or still says about him.
My father, fondly called “Hainny” by his engineering colleagues, would always tell me in our dialect:
“Ko si ibeere ti exam common entrance ko le beere o. In case they ask who is the best Head of State Nigeria ever had, just tick Muhammadu Buhari.”
It became a rhythm in my head, like a song I couldn’t forget. One day, I had to ask, “Daddy, who exactly is this Head of State?”
With the twinkle in his eyes, my father began:
“He is a man of integrity (Ko gba gbere!)—a disciplinarian to the core. A man of conscience. He loves the masses. Maybe because he wasn’t born with a silver spoon (we all laughed when he said that), but he knows where the shoe pinches the poor. He speaks truth to power and that’s why the bourgeoisie can’t stand him.”
Then came the moment I’ll never forget:
“Buhari fears God. He obeys God’s commandment to care for the poor. Do you know that he deployed soldiers to sell hoarded goods at cheap prices in Idumota market for the common man? Ti ko se ileri? Eeyan ni Buhari! O feran mekunnu pupo!”
My father looked deep into my eyes and said, “Ko si eni to pe o,” meaning no one is perfect—but always stand by the truth.
Then, in typical fashion, he ended the session with a rhyme we sang in Sunday School:
“Sotito, Omo ile-iwe, Sotito l’omode l’agba, Otito lo gba Noah la, Ore mi sotito…”
That day, that moment, felt heaven-sent. Five years later, my beloved father passed away—but his words lived on.
As I grew into adulthood, I read more about this man who ruled Nigeria three times. I saw his best, the good, the bad, and the very ugly. No one is perfect. And yes, to drive progress, sometimes you must step on toes.
Despite everything that’s been said about Muhammadu Buhari, I still admire him. Not blindly—but deeply. My father’s words, my own research, and what I’ve seen in the media space shaped that opinion.
In my journalism journey, I was present at the launch of My Participation by Chief Bisi Akande, a book unveiled by President Buhari himself. I attended as Comrade Awa Bamiji’s media team. I even snapped a picture beside a Buhari poster at Eko Hotel & Suites—it became my phone’s wallpaper for months. Friends and colleagues rebuked me for it. I didn’t care. They didn’t understand.
Yes, Buhari could’ve done far better as a civilian president. Health challenges and political compromise dulled his once-fiery edge. He looked away too often. The cabals took over. Still, I remember the man he once was—the man my father taught me about.
Adieu, Former President Muhammadu Buhari. As you have succumbed to the inevitable on the 13th of July, 2025,
If there’s life beyond this one, please find my beloved father, Engr. Bolatito Oyelowo Oyedeji, and thank him—for planting your ideals in me so early in life.
Goodnight, Sai Baba.
— Oluwatoyin Mathnuel
Activist. Journalist. Editor Insight Global Online News/Magazine
‘
.
