How does one begin to write about a close friend and kindred spirit in the past? When there is a will, they say, there is always a way. So, I will try and say what I know about Ken Tadaferua (I called him Kentucky), my “political arch-enemy”, who I had the painful privilege of witnessing his transition to glory at 2:05pm on Sunday, June 16th, 2019. Indeed, I am yet to fully regain my composure after seeing him take his last breath having watched his vital signs fall gradually to nothingness that unfortunate afternoon. I still feel a double paroxysm of sadness and joy; one because the reality dawned on me I would never see my friend again until resurrection day, and the other because I felt he finally “conquered” the ghastly pains of Prostate Cancer, which he fought gallantly and stoically for almost six years.
Ken and I come a long way. In the six years during which he engaged Cancer in a spirited fight, Ken and I must have spent literally every other Sunday together. Before this time, over a period of 20 years or so, we had met on the beat-him as an already accomplished journalist and me a rookie Public Relations practitioner at Cadbury Nigeria. It was not long after we met that our common attribute as Free Spirits came into play and we became friends. I’m very faithful to most of my father’s advice, I must say, and one of them was to make friends mainly with people who are more intelligent or better educated and older than me. So, Ken was a natural choice.
There are five things about Ken, which many people know I would dwell a little bit on in this write-up. There are also three other things I will talk about which not many people know about. It may interest you to note that I sought and obtained his permission to say these things and this is really because Ken, like me, was acutely aware that one of the characteristics of living things is death and for someone fighting Stage 4 Cancer, he was spiritually and psychologically prepared for any eventuality. We both agreed on the mantra: “When death stared at us, we stared back at it!” Those who know it know it. 
Ken was a very brilliant mind. Those who worked with him in This Week, Business, The Guardian, ThisDay, Guaranty Trust Bank, Intercontinental Bank and his own company, Profound Impact Limited, a Communications Consultancy, can attest to his intelligence and high ability for critical thinking and analysis with a good turn of phrase as illustrated in his writings. Perhaps, his best days in journalism were those he spent in Thisday as a member of the Editorial Board and Editor, Nation’s Capital (Thisday Bureau Chief in Abuja). Most of his colleagues on the Editorial Board and the Editorial staff in Abuja felt his razor-sharp intellect, the depth and breadth of his knowledge as well as his leadership skills. Ken had this fatherly or Big Brother aura around him. I’m told it was the same in the banks, GT and Intercontinental. Ken was actually a teacher. He mentored those who wanted mentoring. He was also impatient with dull people, a common trait among most smart folks.
Ken was a straight arrow. You are almost sure where he stood on issues, any issue. There were no grays; it was either white or black with reasoned justifications. For those who interacted with him in the social space, this would seem like stating the obvious. Ken was neither shy nor scared to take a stand on issues. He was very comfortable on any subject, especially politics and leadership issues as well as matters related to the economy. He took no prisoners in his usually hot, often late night debates. Cancer made Ken lose sleep, didn’t it. So, he engaged himself usefully by taking on anyone who was willing and able to challenge him, when he was up late. Ken would never back down from a debate, except he found you unintelligent or rude. I had a fair share of his brutal shakedowns. On some occasions, he would be in my house or we would be at his and yet “fighting” over Buhari and his government on social media, sometimes face to face.
Let me share a short story at this point. One Sunday afternoon, Ken was in my house. We were watching Arsenal play one of the Manchester pretenders and the boys were misbehaving. On the side, we were having a go at each other over some government policy and as usual stood on opposite sides. I think we only agreed on Arsenal and football, generally. Our debate raged while we ate Rice and Asun and watched the sorry soccer match. One of his friends called him and I could overhear the guy asking him why he allowed Emeka Oparah (that’s me O!) to challenge him so openly and sometimes rudely. He told the fellow Emeka was a very bad boy and an unrepentant “Buharist” and he was determined to teach me a lesson. He then asked the guy to forget Emeka and say hello to somebody. He handed me the phone. I cannot print here the obscenity the gentleman at the other end screamed in utter disbelief when I introduced myself. That was Ken. Politics was politics. Friendship was friendship. He wouldn’t let the former affect the latter deleteriously. Otherwise he would exit the discussion. He harbored neither bitterness nor hatred.
Ken was a patriot. He was very passionate about Nigeria-and very badly wanted the country to succeed. You may wish to Google his essays in Premium Times or interventions on Facebook. He took it upon himself not only to highlight the ills of the country, but he proffered simple, practicable solutions to what he thought were self-inflicted problems. He wrote and spoke from his heart, not from his pocket or bank account like many so called critics are doing. He firmly believed in the Nigeria Project and disliked the egregious hijack of the system by common criminals. Sadly, not much changed before he passed away. Shame.
Ken was very thorough. He had to be. He was an Editor’s Editor. Sometimes, he would call me to grumble over the fallen and still falling standards of education as manifested in the quality of spoken and written English especially among journalists. His classmates at the University of Ibadan, where he got both his undergraduate and postgraduate degrees in Communications Arts never tire to talk about his linguistic cum intellectual prowess. You could only decipher Ken’s Urhobo etymology, whenever he dabbled into typical Waffi Pidgin English-usually in unserious circumstances.
At one point, I told him to join the ranks of the late Bayo Oguntuase, Ndaeyo Uko and Ebere Wabara to write a weekly column on the Use or Abuse of English. The pedestrian write-ups peddled on social media pissed him off so much, but here was a man already pissed off by his poor health caused by Cancer, which was ravaging his body and guzzling his savings! Still, he wrote with so much attention to detail, a trait very well-known in every organization he worked for. By his own admission, he got into trouble many times with some of his bosses, who didn’t consider his insistence of crossing the T’s and dotting the I’s very essential for business. Ken? No way! He would rather walk the straight and narrow path- the road less travelled.
Ken was a generous man. Large at heart, he was a firm believer in benevolence and charity. He would easily give of his time, his money and himself, if it came to that. From his sickbed, Ken took care of many people. He contributed swiftly to charity causes, which have shamefully become perhaps the only social safety net in the absence of a thriving Health Insurance in Nigeria. On two occasions, when he was first to respond to such Calls to Action, I questioned him on the sense in spending his dwindled resources, which he badly needed. But Ken believed so much in helping others and assured me he was all right. Sadly, I am not sure he got much help from friends during his 6-year fight against Cancer. This perhaps was partly because he kept his health condition mostly to himself being a very private kind of person.
And the other thing about Ken: He was stoic. Very stoic. He bore his cross with patience, humility, equanimity, dignity, doggedness and silence. He was gallant, absolutely so. He went everywhere in search of a cure-India, Dubai, United States, Ghana and even Israel. He spent all he saved, sold most of his earthly belongings to beat Cancer. He discovered all sorts of Natural Remedies. He avoided Chemotherapy until his last year on earth. He believed chemo killed faster than Cancer. Perhaps, that was why he stayed strong for so long without many knowing even with his initial diagnosis of Stage-4 Cancer.
Up to last week, Ken believed he would beat the Big C.
The pains were too much, but he bore them with grace and an uncommon belief in and reverence for his Creator. Ken was a Catholic, not Roaming, but Roman. He missed neither morning nor afternoon Masses, when he could drive. What a lucky man he was to have had such a long rope to make good with God. He totally and wholeheartedly surrendered to God and forgave all who trespassed against him. This he assured me every time our conversation gravitated to matters spiritual.
Now, not many knew 62-year-old, Sapele-born Ken didn’t have a wife. He also didn’t have children. It was not by choice. No. He tried marriage once but it failed woefully. I was his Best Man. We both agreed while he was alive not to discuss the topic but rather consign it to the dustbin of better-forgotten memories. I will respect my friend. But let me share with you what happened the day before and on the day of his wedding. Coming to Marina through the notorious Apapa traffic, Ken got to the church after the pre-wedding rehearsals were over. I can still recall his very apologetic conversation with the Vicar while his wife then (ex-wife now) boiled over with rage. Then, on the wedding day, Ohi Alegbe, who was the designated Master of Ceremonies did not show up. So, I took off my jacket and anchored the event on Ken’s orders! We still laughed about the second incident recently. And Ken was like I should just stop talking about the MC work except I wanted him to pay me for it. And that’s my man; beneath the facade of a fierce mien lay a river of refined humor.
Sometime ago a lady claimed to have had a son for Ken, out of a dalliance that neither lasted long nor tasted well. He accepted and took care of the child but resolutely denied the paternity, which he proved 5 or so years later with a DNA Test. The lady later apologized. How so sad. Imagine playing back some of the drama in his mostly solitary moments. So, Ken, who had lost his parents and recently lost his only brother is leaving behind many cousins including Austin Tadaferua, a cousin everyone should wish for, as well as an armada of friends, followers and admirers.
Ken was also somewhat difficult or fastidious, even stubborn like most of us. Being a perfectionist, he was hard to please. This probably explains why he married so late, first and foremost, and couldn’t remarry after the first attempt. Do you know he lived through these testy years almost by himself? He couldn’t imagine a House-help or Caregiver meeting his expectations. One of such Caregivers abandoned him after seeing a Catholic Priest visit a couple of times for prayers. The poor boy must have feared his boss was about to die and fled! That was about three years ago.
Perhaps, I should mention here that one of the negative effects of social media and her mother, mobile telecommunication, is the erosion of human or personal touch in relationships. From the reactions of most people over Ken’s passing, it was apparent that many, including his friends and former colleagues, were oblivious of his health situation. Because Ken never spoke about it, was very active on social media (almost till the very end) and still retained his unique voice and sense of humor, many thought all was well with him. We must return to the era of exchanging visits with friends and family. I bet, if some of his friends paid closer attention, they would have noticed his clear absence from social and professional events and forums. This is not necessarily about Ken. I leave this, my dear friends, to your most serious contemplation.
In closing, Ken’s only regret, if at all, would be that he could not write the book we planned, a manual, more or less, on how to fight and beat Cancer. He had it all stitched together in his mind. Incurable optimists, we were already planning the book launch, the roadshow, the talk shows, and the celebration. That was the extent of his faith and perseverance. He believed he would beat Cancer. He was only waiting for his miracle to come alas it never came. Ken died fighting Cancer. I watched him die. No, I watched his body die, but I can see his spirit and his legacy of love, truth and benevolence live forever.
Rest in peace, Kentucky!
•Oparah is Director of Corporate Communications & CSR at Airtel Nigeria.