Rafiu Ajakaye
Saturday, December 27, 2024 has earned its place in our diary with the death of Prince AbdulKadir Mahe, Chief of Staff to Governor Abdulrahman Abdulrazaq. Barring the traditional fears of any eventuality around everyone of us, especially persons of his age, his death was shockingly chilling as the previous days offered no inkling of such development.
His last official outing was the distribution of clean-energy cooking stoves where he represented the governor. His Executive Assistant, a fine gentleman, had called to ask for the speech. It was long ready. A few days earlier, on December 20, we were at the House of Assembly for the 2025 budget presentation, where he would meet me at the loo. As we briefly interacted, he mentioned that he had been the Clerk of the House (Permanent Secretary) before. So, he really didn’t show any signs that he was ‘leaving’. But isn’t death the master shocker?
Born on April 2, 1952, the Chief of Staff was a good man. His good reputation preceded him in the government. I had heard stories of how people liked him. But I didn’t know him until his appointment— first as the Secretary to the State Government and, later, as the CoS. My encounters with him were refreshingly pleasant. The low power distant index (PDI) of the people around him defied the Ibn Khalidun’s postulation of how princes and princesses with their power and arrogance were sometimes responsible for how their lineages lost out of grace with the people.
Despite being a retired Permanent Secretary and a scion of the Sheikh Alimi dynasty, Prince Mahe was a gracious and humble man around whom people found comfort. A colleague once reported me to him. The fellow wanted some favour from the administration, but it hadn’t fully worked out. The proposal had been sent to me long before the CoS was appointed. So the fellow, a relative of the Prince, quickly took the proposal to the CoS on his assumption of office. He studied it and called to see me. “CPS, please, what can we do about this? I heard you had the proposal already,” he said.
I explained what I did, what worked out based on my efforts, and what I still hoped for. He appreciated it, and explained how pictures painted of a situation may not always reflect what it is. He knew I was not comfortable with what the fellow had done, and he said with a tone of a vote of confidence that he truly believed I had done my best for the fellow and I should not take it to heart. He said he had called me just to satisfy all righteousness. What a good man!
How often do we judge people that we have not listened to? How much trust do we repose in our colleagues, junior or senior? With him, I practically learnt what Malcolm Gladwell said about truth default theory. We must give people a chance to defend themselves and convince us, no matter who has reported them. We must learn to be less judgmental in our dealings with fellow human beings until the contrary has been proven. He proved once again the position that ‘if we don’t begin (relationships) in a state of trust, we can’t have meaningful social encounters’.
Without breaching ethical standards, I also learnt from him how to be intentional in letting our God-given honour and class rub off on our subordinates or family members who may be down the social ladder. He recently led personnel in the Government House to the wedding of one of our junior colleagues. But there was a story to it. He had been told how the fellow had been a victim of taunters in his own family who said (our colleague) was a nobody and that the nikaah of his son was going to flop. That’s how annoyingly conceited humans could get once they see themselves as better off than the next person. “Most certainly, one exceeds all bounds. Once they think they are self-sufficient,” God says in Surah Al-‘Alaq (The Clot). Well, the CoS directed that everyone should show up for the event, which, alihamdulillaah, turned out to be very colourful.
Director of Administration and Finance, Alhaji Akorede, told me that the CoS always saw himself as an underdog who had been a victim of taunters. But we have seen victims of violence turning out to be worse. We have seen nations with a history of persecution being worse in their attitude to weaker nations or people. To me, Prince Mahe was just a gracious man who lifted the weak. He was also a team player who relished consensus in the decision-making process. I have been privileged to be in the room as he presided at meetings to resolve knotty issues, including communal and labour matters where 2+2 may well defy all logical mathematical principles. Often, he would ask everyone to give their perspectives, chip in a few words, and we would have a consensus that best suited the circumstance.
His name, Mahe , is one of the many cherished sobriquets of Prophet Muhammad. It means the one through whom God erases ignorance and disbelief. I ask Allaah to erase his human failings, grant him al-jannah Firdaus, and bless his home.
Finally…
To everyone who has sent me their kind words and prayers in commemoration of my birthday Monday, December 30, I am sincerely grateful to you, and I pray that God reward you all. I wished I was able to reply your kind messages individually, but this moment is still for the late Chief of Staff, who has earned a right to be mourned. May God comfort everyone who mourns Alhaji Mahe. Aamin.
︎ Mr. Ajakaye is Chief Press Secretary to the Kwara State Governor
Discussion about this post