By Louis Odion, FNGE

The offer was irresistible.

“Louis, I know you must be tired of hotel food by now,” he teased with a patriarchal grin, then beckoning, “Follow me make I show you better place to chop.”

After meandering through a labyrinth of rain-sprinkled streets of Asaba this afternoon for some minutes, we finally repaired to a local buka oozing mouth-watering aroma.

As soon as Uncle Sam (Chief Sam AmukaPemu) sauntered in, trailed by GbengaAdefaye (then President of the Nigerian Guild of Editors), EzeAnaba and yours sincerely, the buka — a nondescript bungalow — suddenly grew quiet, in reverence, if not awe, of an illustrious son of Delta State whose easily recognisable face frames his national celebrity.

The big masquerade had indeed arrived. It was too obvious that his trademark flat cap, deliberately pulled down to the brows, had, yet again, failed Uncle Sam woefully as disguise today. With the sudden excitement in the air, no one needed any reminding that the pride of the Itsekiri nation was an esteemed customer here, always picking the bills of everyone fortunate to be supping whenever he visited.

Vanguard newspapers, owned by him, is the political bible of not just his native Delta State but the entire Niger Delta.

Soon, all eyes seemed riveted on the corner we sat while the chefs ran around to ladle our table with assorted delicacies, meat and drinks.

The year was 2012 (April). Asaba, Delta State capital, was hosting a summit by BRACE Commission, a development agency for all South-south states, in collaboration with the editors guild with all the South-South governors in attendance. (I came with Comrade Adams Oshiomhole as Edo State Commissioner of Information then.)

After doing justice to a feast of steaming-hot yam and bush meat, chatter and banter naturally resumed over beer. With his razor-sharp wits and withering humour, Uncle Sam would keep us reeling in laughter constantly. For instance, he often objects humorously that those of us addressing him as Daddy were only acting out a sinister plot to pronounce him invalid or vegetable prematurely.

“Daddy,” I soon teased with another hint of mischief, “You look very well kept, like a forty-something even when you’re now almost 77. What is the secret, sir?”

After a thoughtful silence and staring at his half-empty glass on the table, Uncle Sam waltzed philosophical, “In whatever you do, never forget the principle of one,” raising his right index finger for emphasis.

Sensing our curiosity, he expatiated: “If you must drink beer, never exceed one bottle. If you eat, be content with one plate.” Anticipating our next mischief, he preempted us: “It also applies to your duty as a man in the bedroom.” Our inference was that only the unwise would attempt to exceed the recommended limit in the biological odometer in an amatory excursion.

Of course, Adefaye, Anaba and yours sincerely laughed deliriously after processing that coded addendum.

In such simple, yet profound nugget would seem rooted the locus of Uncle Sam’s character essentially. It is his own philosophical compass to navigate the boundless ocean of temptations daily and a durable anchor in life’s high and low tide generally. A rarity in a society where animal greed is otherwise classified as enterprise and crass opportunism considered smartness.

It probably also explains his longevity despite many difficult challenges over the years including multiple medical surgeries. Such minimalist mindset perhaps also furnishes an epistemological framework to understand Uncle Sam’s resolve to walk away without pulling down the roof, upon a painful realisation he had been handed the short-end of the stick at the Punch all along following a boardroom skirmish. The average journalist is often more obsessed with words and exclusive stories, not figures or numbers, unlike his partner who was a shrewd accountant. At the founding of Punch in 1970, Uncle Sam would appear to be too trusting to mind the true meaning of numbers in the article of association and their legal implications.

It was only a question of time for the big question to arise. That eventually led him to exit and set up Vanguard newspapers in 1984, left to literally start afresh.

Overall, there is no denying media power. Exceedingly privileged, therefore, is the custodian of such power. But Uncle Sam would never be found parlaying that privilege to oppress or obtain undue advantage. And there lies the essence of his journalism.

Despite his “big connections” and unlimited opportunities, Uncle Sam has refused to migrate to uptown Ikoyi, Victoria Island or Lekki, commensurate with his status as one of Nigeria’s most successful and influential publishers. He is content with the anonymity of downtown Anthony Village, home to him for more than five decades.

In fact, most neighbours only became aware they truly had a very “big man” in their midst not too long ago following an attempt by some hustlers to convert an open space which had served the Anthony Village community as recreation centre to a commercial centre. A mere statement of objection by Uncle Sam was enough for the authorities to wade in and chase the buccaneers away.

I am privileged to have partaken in the “morning communion” with Uncle Sam at his Anthony Village home several times over the years. Often a light menu of tea and cracker biscuits in the balcony amid soft music from a little jukebox.

Real “feasting” often occurs at lunch or dinner time at another property of his elsewhere in the same Anthony Village. That is where Uncle Sam prefers to host people lavishly, even though his own consumption pattern is always abstemious.

A man of disarming simplicity, Uncle Sam is not the type that throws his weight around or engages in self-promotion under any guise or disguise. For instance, when words reached him that Azu (Ishiekwene) and others were holding nocturnal meetings for a surprise 80th birthday shindig for him ten years ago, Uncle Sam, the grandmaster of ambush himself, was not to be beaten in his own game. He immediately put a call to Azu, the lead conspirator: “I heard you people are planning to stage a party without my permission. I would rather you give me the money to go and enjoy myself somewhere instead.”

But a cautionary note: the leisurely walk of a lion at ordinary moment starkly contrasts its ferocious charge when in war mode. Uncle Sam’s petite frame, easy smile and fragile air certainly belie his doughty spirit in certain matters such as the pursuit of social justice or defence of human liberty. He is never shy in advocating a better deal for his native oil-rich Niger Delta, Nigeria’s cash cow left to wallow in want and near destitution. We can see this reflecting distinctly in the bias and values espoused by Vanguard newspapers in its editorial character.

In the course of my journalism career, it was inevitable that I would encounter Uncle Sam as a mentor and father-figure. It is always pleasing whenever he called to draw my attention to any error of facts in my column and never spares praises on any piece he considers good. Coming from the king of the craft himself, I interpret that as evidence of his attention. To me, that alone is tantamount to winning a gold medal.

Here is wishing Uncle Sam many more years in good health and service to the nation and mankind.

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