By Ekundayo Asaju
It has been three years since the Yeyesewa of Lagos, Chief Mrs Kemi Nelson took her final bow from this stage of life, yet her voice, her laughter, her fierce loyalty, and her enduring grace still echo clearly in the hearts of those she touched.
On July 17, 2022, the world lost an icon — but for me and my family, we lost far more. We lost a sister, a mentor, a protector, and a soul friend whose influence shaped the very contours of our lives.
Our paths first crossed over three decades ago in the most unassuming way. I was a young journalist, chasing stories and covering political terrain. She was already a formidable figure. From that moment, she took me under her wing — no fanfare, no noise — just the quiet conviction that this young man was worth investing in.
What followed was not just mentorship, but kinship. Our relationship evolved from professional courtesy into a deep familial bond. I became her little brother, her confidant, her sounding board. And she became a consistent presence in my life — solid, discerning, and ever truthful.
What was special about our bond was that it was never about money, influence, or power. It was rooted in mutual trust and deep affection. One of the things I cherished most was how she always saved space for my “second opinion.” No matter how high the stakes, she would pause and ask, “Dayo, what do you think?”
Of course, that level of trust also came with its fair share of hard truths. She wasn’t afraid to call me out when I overstepped.
I remember one particular incident clearly: I had overheard a conversation in which she expressed disappointment in a close associate — someone we both knew well. I took it upon myself to defend her, and wrote a subtle piece in my magazine, naming no names but leaving little doubt about the subject.
She called me the next day:
“Dayo, mo ri nkan to ko o… Kilo kan e n’be, sé bí ore mi ni?”
(Dayo, I saw what you wrote. What’s your business with that? She’s my friend.)
She was right. She didn’t need me to fight her private battles in public. She had her own compass — and it always pointed toward dignity.
Another time, things got more heated. She had a rough experience at the APC office in Ikeja, Lagos. That same week, my magazine published a story on a different prominent female politician. The backlash was swift and widespread. She didn’t hold back:
“Dayo, how will people believe I knew nothing about this? In this same Lagos?”
Her pain was palpable.
“If you truly cared, you should know the kind of political stories to write. Everyone knows we are close.”
That disagreement led to a long silence between us. And while it hurt, I respected it. Eventually, we reconciled — not because time passed, but because love endured. She understood my heart, and I never stopped holding space for her.
Yeyesewa had a rare relationship with the Nigerian media. She wasn’t just admired — she was trusted. She respected journalists, and many in our profession owe her more than they’d ever say publicly. I introduced her to colleagues during moments of trial, and she never turned anyone away. If she believed your cause was just, she would stand with you — even when it wasn’t convenient.
For my family and me, her memory is a blessing. She was there in seasons of joy and pain, in private and in public, always with that unwavering sense of duty and affection.
Three years may have passed since she transitioned, but Yeyesewa’s light still burns brightly. Her absence may be physical, but her influence is everywhere — in the lives she touched, the doors she opened, the battles she fought, and the dignity with which she lived.
As we remember her today, we do not mourn as those who have no hope. Instead, we honour her by standing a little taller, living a little truer, and speaking a little braver — just like she did.
Sleep well, my beloved sister.
Thank you for the years, the love, the lessons, and the laughter.
You may be gone, but you remain unforgettable.
Adieu, the irrepressible Yeyesewa of Lagos.
You were, and will always be, one of one.
*Asaju is Publisher/Editor-in-Chief, Firstweeklynagazine.com
