Death, that grim harvester of humankind, made a dastardly foray into the camp of Nigerian journalists last Saturday and brazenly made away with one of our choicest members, Mr. Dimgba Igwe, vice chairman of the The Sun Publishing Ltd. The late Igwe, who had earlier served The Sun as Deputy Managing Director/Deputy Editor-in-Chief, was killed by a hit and run driver as he undertook his customary early morning jogging somewhere around his Okota, Lagos residence.
Oh Dimgba, how do I begin a tribute to this outstanding writer, Fellow of the Nigerian Guild of Editors, pastor, humanist, friend and brother? Mr. Eric Osagie, Deputy Managing Director of ,, who is now on Leave of Absence serving as Managing Director of our sister publication, New Telegraph, has rightly lamented the peculiarly Nigerian situation that led to the demise of Igwe in his Monday Column, Flipside. This peculiar situation includes the inability to get adequate medical treatment for him at the first private hospital he was rushed to, and the incapacity of the second hospital, a supposed General Hospital, to handle his case. By the time he was rushed to the Lagos State University Teaching Hospital, Ikeja, two long hours after the accident that occurred at 6am, he had reportedly lost so much blood, and passed on during surgery. A gem of the media profession had answered the Great Call and left us all to mourn his passage.
Oh Dimgba, what a sad bad blow to the solar plexus of journalism in Nigeria! And, the driver that killed him got away! I do not think that there were   streetlights that could have illuminated the area to provide a chance that anyone could have seen the hit and run car driver. There were no security cameras to record the incident. Yet, the Inspector of Police has vowed that the killer will be found. If that happens, that would be a pleasant surprise.
But, I choose not to dwell on the debilitating Nigerian environment that oftentimes cuts down our brightest in their prime, I have no heart at all to interrogate the circumstances of his killing. I only want to mourn this finest of gentlemen who I will describe as the best good friend that the hectic media environment never gave me time to cultivate.
I, alongside many of the old Concord newspaper tribe, met and worked closely with the now departed Mr. Igwe, in the 1980s and 1990s. The Weekend Concord newspaper, where we worked directly together, was a very lovely and interesting place to be. The visionary Mr. Mike Awoyinfa, a former Managing Director/Editor-in-Chief and now a Director of The Sun, and Publisher of the Entertainment Express newspaper, was the “heart” of the Weekend Concord, while Dimgba Igwe was the “head”.As a visionary and creative thinker, Mr. Awoyinfa almost permanently had his head in the clouds, bubbling with outstanding story ideas and headlines which he usually first sounded out on his the Deputy, Dimgba, before bursting into the newsroom to tell us about it. While Mr. Awoyinfa daily wined and dined with the mysterious journalism spirits who gave him uncommon insights that produced blockbuster stories, Dimgba was the one who had his feet firmly planted on the ground. He was the one who always faithfully guided the editorial process which brought their joint dreams to reality in the form of outstanding and unforgettable stories. It was that shared thinking and responsibility that gave birth to the Weekend Concord in the first place. It was also the magical formula that informed the birth of The Sun newspapers, and made it the roaring success that it is today.
On a personal note, although we did not talk frequently largely because writing is essentially a lonesome enterprise which keeps writers ensconced in their own offices as they battle their personal writing demons, I loved Dimgba like a brother. And, indeed, he was. A brother in Christ. To me, he was a very fine example of a gentleman, the like of which, I am sorry to say, is not common in the country.
Why did I admire Dimgba so much? He had a quiet dignity that I do see often in human beings. He was forthright. A commited Christian. A devoted friend to his journalism twin, Mike Awoyinfa. He was disciplined. Unassuming. Guileless. Hardworking. Always ready to lend an ear. At the Weekend Concord, Dimgba was the “go-to man” if you had an issue. If there is any opinion on him that is contrary to what I am saying, it would probably be because the task of running a successful newspaper is not a tea party. Hard business decisions have to be taken sometimes, and there is nothing anyone can do about it.
Members of the larger Concord newspaper crew of yesteryears, people like the present Managing Director of The Sun, Mr. Femi Adesina, Mrs. Yetunde Oladeinde, Messrs Eric Osagie, Aliu Mohammed of Magnate Communications, Ose, Kunle Solaja, Ben Memuletiwon, Sanya Oni, Gabriel Erapi, Dele Momodu, Mrs. Tinu Odugbemi,  our ace photographer, Mr. Timothy Oyeola, Mrs. Titilayo Balogun and others I cannot immediately remember now, can only have the fondest of memories of him.
Even in the midst of the challenges of the job, I cannot but remember the very few occasions that we ever really sat down to talk. I remember that we always invariably discussed the church and Christianity. His Church,Evangel Pentecostal Church, where he was Assistant General Overseer, has an impressive choir, and I remember consulting him on how we could achieve the same thing in my own church. He told me of some equipment that they bought and the fact they initially engaged two professional musicians that they paid, but who later became church members. Pastor Dimgba Igwe, in the old Concord days, would often wonder how I coped with the late working hours that almost automatically came with being a journalist. The average editor would never even broach that subject. For most editors, that was the headache of any woman who decides to be a journalist. Pastor Igwe often lovingly spoke of his children and his desire that they school in the country. He also never failed to ask about my own children, and how they were faring.
Although Dimgba travelled the world, he deeply loved Nigeria and his Igbere community. Even though all our personal conversations in the over 20 years trajectory of our interaction might not even amount to three hours, he gave me a vivid description of his Igbere countryhouse, and the importance of having one’s children give one a befitting burial when one passes one. It was quite a surprise to me, as I had not up till that time accorded any significance to that. As far as I knew, a dead person does not know or care what happens when he is gone.
Pastor Igwe spoke often of the need for journalists to have other interests and other things they are doing, to reduce the frustration of the inadequate salaries, so that the salaries would only be a support. He was so hardworking. I remember vividly when he told me very long ago that he would be going to Bible School on Saturdays, and maybe Sundays. I asked when he would have time to rest and he replied: “What am I resting for? What have I achieved in Lagos? I cannot rest now. It is not yet time” That admonition spurred me on in later years to go do my own Masters Degree in Mass Communication at the University of Lagos. In the eight years or so that Dimgba was DMD at The Sun, I doubt if I had occasion to enter his office up to five times, and I never spent up to 15 minutes at any time. But somehow, in my heart, he was always a blood brother. His demise, I must say, has drawn not a few tears from my eyes, especially in the night, and in the solitude of my office, essentially because I would find it difficult to explain to anyone why his death should hit me this badly. And, if I am this hit, I cannot begin to imagine how Mr.
Two things are particularly distressing for me in Dimgba’s demise. First, is the manner in which he died, while the second is the seeming entire futility of life. Why would a man, a true man of God, labour and build a country home that he should ordinarily live in and enjoy in his aged years, and not live to enjoy it? These things are just too heavy for me to bear.
So, I rest my case. The Bible says “God is in Heaven and he doeth   whatsoever pleaseth him.”  We as mortals cannot question Him, but we must thank Him at all times, and for everything. So, I thank God for my brother Dimgba Igwe and the beautiful life he lived. For the beautiful prose he wrote. I wish him sweet repose in the Saviour’s bosom and fortitude to bear the loss for his wife, Obioma, his children, and his older brother, whom he also loved so dearly and spoke so often about. Adieu, Rest in the bosom of the Lord that you loved so much.

Oh Dimgba Igwe, where do I begin?