I had known Rasheed Adegbenro by reputation before he joined us at the Nigerian Television Authority, NTA Ibadan around 1978.
He came to NTA with the awesome reputation of being the youngest sport editor of the Sketch Group of Newspapers at the age of 22.
He held his ground firmly at the sports unit and learned quickly under Fabio Lanipekun, one of the icons of broadcast sports journalism in Nigeria.
He had a swarm of irascible friends including Jide Elemo, Segun Soroye, Kayode Adedire, Eric Teniola, Toye Akiode, Soji Alakuro, Femi Idowu, Bode Oyewole, Segun Ojerinola and myself to mention a few.
There had always been SOMETHING about Rasheed which all of us knew but could not place our fingers on. But with age and benefit of hindsight, I think we all agreed, both those living and dead, that Rasheed Adegbenro has INTEGRITY.
From little things like keeping his word on a book he promised to lend you, or bigger things like attending to your family needs, e.g your son’s birthday, your mum’s burial, anybody’s wedding, Rasheed Adegbenro is never found wanting when it comes to having your back.
You can take his word to the bank; he is one guy I know who doesn’t know how to tell lies. He is as innocent as he looks.
Everywhere he was, when a committee is set up, it was almost a no-brainer that Rasheed Adegbenro would be the Secretary. He’s so organised and compact.
His retentive memory is legendary. Rasheed would tell you the graphic political odyssey of his father, Dauda, the political inferno of the Wild Wild West, mentioning dates and time. He can veer into the orbit of major corporate players all over the world, positing into why they failed or triumphed in the dog-eat-dog politics of the boardroom. Because he is a boardroom man himself.
Rasheed Adegbenro dotted on his family and friends almost to a fault.
A look-a-like of his father, he betrayed unguarded emotion 40 years ago at his wedding reception to his beautiful wife, Tokunbo. As he was giving the vote of thanks, he suddenly paused, put down the microphone and burst into tears, saying under his breath, “Baba ku, baba ku,” bemoaning the absence of his dad on his big day. His dad died in 1975.
Rasheed was always talking about his brothers and sisters, though we scarcely met them, but we knew all about ẹgbọn Niyi Adegbenro (Anẹyẹtonto), brother Shina Adegbenro and sister Funlayo who should be about 85 years old now.
In April 1979, Rasheed and I with other friends as usual went to paint the town red on a weekend. We ended up at the Ibadan recreation club and I ended up sleeping in his flat which Eric Teniola just vacated for him. We were so groggy and we passed out the moment we hit the bed.
The following morning, I had to rush back to Abeokuta to be with my pregnant wife but my new car was nowhere to be found. It had been stolen.
With Rasheed, I remember so many magnetic moments since I knew him 44 years ago.
I have the privilege to propose the toast of one of the greatest men I ever met, Pastor Rasheed Adegbenro.
PRINCE DOTUN OYELADE
