A Tribute to Double Chief Banji Olawoyin (The Bobajiro of Offa Kingdom)

By Olayemi Olaboye (Itafa)

This morning, we lost a rare gem—Double Chief Banji Olawoyin, the Bobajiro of Offa Kingdom, scion of the legendary First and Second Republics politician, Asiwaju Josiah Sunday Olawoyin. His passing in Abuja has left a deep void in the hearts of all who knew him.

Double Chief was not just a man of titles—he was a man of the people. He radiated warmth, kindness, and an infectious humour that transcended age, gender, religion, and race. His towering physical presence was only matched by the vastness of his heart and the breadth of his connections. He was a bridge between generations, between power and the powerless, always ready to lend a hand or speak a word in due season.

Many, including myself, owe him debts that words cannot repay. Time and again, he leveraged his immense goodwill to bail me out of tight situations. One such moment remains etched in my memory: during a media onslaught against my former principal at the Federal Character Commission, Double Chief singlehandedly assembled the crème de la crème of Abuja’s media world within hours. I will never forget that evening at his Area 2 Garden—the respect he commanded, the humour with which he disarmed even the most difficult journalists. His words to an uncooperative reporter still ring in my ears: “Ki lo tun nbere? You’re crazy! If you write nonsense tomorrow, I will make sure you are sent out of Abuja. Ma ni kan gbe ẹ lọ Yobe!” It was a vintage Banji—firm, fearless, but always with that unmistakable twinkle in his eye.

On another occasion, when I needed high-level access, he simply said, “Let me call the boy.” That “boy” happened to be a former governor! Within minutes, doors that seemed shut swung open, all because of his name and network. He never saw people by their titles—he saw them as humans first. To him, status meant little; character meant everything.

Even in his lighter moments, his humour and affection knew no bounds. On his last birthday a few weeks ago, he called me in that booming voice: “Ayẹmo, ma bọ lọdọ mi. Tètè ma bọ. Ọga ẹ nkọ? Sọ fun un wipe ori ẹ o **!” His words always left me smiling, and even my principal, the senator, could only shake his head in admiration: “Ma da Banji loun, o fẹ bu mi ni.”

Only a few days ago, we spoke about his country home in Ọffa—the same home that suffered burglary and vandalism. I teased him that as Bọbajiro, he couldn’t let his ancestral home fall into ruin. He laughed, accusing Labakẹ and me of blackmail and quipped in his usual playful way: “Sọ fun ọga ẹ ko gbe million fún mi ki n lọ fi tun se!” We agreed to meet this weekend to discuss matters further, but fate had other plans.

Now, that meeting will never hold. The robust conversations, the laughter, the brotherhood—we have been robbed of all that by the cold hands of death.

Farewell, Double Chief. You lived fully, you laughed heartily, you gave generously. The Bọbajiro of Ọffa has taken his final bow, but your memory will remain evergreen in our hearts.

May the Lord grant you eternal rest.
Sun re o, Bọọda Banji;
Double Chief (Casilan Jan Ban).

Ọlayẹmi Ọlaboye (Itafa)
Abuja, 11th July, 2025