The late Chief Dan Orbih meant many things to different people. Naturally, people had different encounters and experiences with him, and it is therefore understandable that opinions about him would remain divergent, even after his passing.
But in all of this, there is something we must never lose sight of: Chief Dan Orbih was human, just as all of us are. And to be human is to be imperfect. We make mistakes, we offend people, sometimes knowingly and sometimes unknowingly, and we do not always get everything right.
I had my own experiences with Chief Orbih. Most of our interactions were political, and we disagreed on several occasions during the years I navigated the Nigerian political space with him. Some of those disagreements became particularly pronounced during the 2024 Edo State gubernatorial election. We certainly did not see everything from the same perspective.
But death has a way of reminding us how temporary our disagreements, ambitions and struggles really are.
William Shakespeare captured this reality beautifully in Julius Caesar: “Seeing that death, a necessary end, will come when it will come.”
That, perhaps, is the lesson for all of us. Death is not an appointment reserved for our political opponents, enemies or those with whom we have had disagreements. It is an appointment that awaits everyone.
The Bible puts it even more solemnly in Hebrews 9:27: “And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment.”
For this reason, I find it rather disturbing when people celebrate the death of someone with whom they once disagreed or use the occasion of a person’s passing to settle old scores. There is nothing courageous about dancing on the grave of the dead. Speaking ill of someone who can no longer respond does not make the living more righteous, nor does another person’s imperfections absolve us of our own.
Chief Dan Orbih has lived his life. His chapter has closed. Those of us who are still here should perhaps spend less time judging his life and more time examining our own.
If you have the platform today to speak ill of him, ask yourself some questions: How are you treating the people around you? What impact are you making with the life and opportunities you have been given? What are people saying about you today, both in your presence and behind your back? And when your own time eventually comes, what will people genuinely remember about you?
If your experience with Chief Orbih was good, preserve the memories. If it was bad, take the lessons from it. If he offended you, perhaps allow that experience to teach you how not to treat others. That would be a far more meaningful response than mocking or badmouthing a man who has already taken his final bow.
Nobody is perfect. Not Chief Dan Orbih. Not you. Not me.
He has finished his journey and gone the way that all mortals must eventually go. We who remain still have the privilege of writing and, where necessary, rewriting our own stories.
So rather than asking what Chief Dan Orbih did right or wrong while he lived, perhaps the more important question should be: What are you doing with the life you still have?
Because death is certain. The timing is not.
Who knows who is next?
May the soul of Chief Dan Orbih rest in peace.
Dcn. Amb Darlington Okpebholo Ray a Media Consultant, Journalist Rights Advocate and HR Professional writes from London, England.
