Last Wednesday in Lagos, Godwin Dudu-Orumen’s book, SPORTS, POLITICS AND POWER was launched. And the book reviewer was none other than the former Sports Minister, Mr. Sunday Dare who is now Special Adviser to President Bola Tinubu. I bring to you his views on the book and what it means to Nigeria’s sports. Enjoy it.
There are stories that begin as whispers — gentle, almost unnoticed — until time reveals that they were the opening notes of a lifelong symphony. Godwin Dudu- Orumen’s story belongs to that category.
A young boy, moving between Benin, Sapele, and Warri, carrying his school books in one hand and a restless passion for sport in the other. It was in 1968, amidst the gentle chaos of primary school life, that a spark was lit — a spark that would one day illuminate studios, stadiums, boardrooms, academies, and the pages of this extraordi- nary book.
In Sports, Politics and Power – My Perspectives, that spark is alive. It dances through every chapter. Here, he is the little boy crowding the lines of inter-house sports meets, memorizing the names of ath- letes who would later dominate the Hussey Shield and Lady Manu- wa Cup. Here, too, is the teenager who wandered into Ogbe Stadi- um not in triumph — but in refuge. The young Dudu found himself in an academic storm, yet the sacred grounds of Bendel Insurance became his sanctuary.
He tells us how he arrived before 7am each day — slipping into the training sessions of Sam Ikedi, Emmanuel Egede, and Sunny Izev- bigie, boys young enough to share their meals with him, old enough to shape his destiny. He describes how SHOOT, GOAL, and MATCH magazines opened his mind to a global architecture of football long before satellite broadcasting arrived on Nigerian soil. These scenes are not just recollections; they are the birthmarks of a life devoted to sport. As I turned those pages, I could feel the allure of the old Midwest — the era when Governor Ogbemudia’s school sports rev- olution created Olympians from classrooms, when Hussey College was a production line, when Edo College and ICC Benin defined impossible standards.
Dudu writes about those years with the candour of a man who was shaped by them. And his storytelling is a reminder that the collapse of school sports in Nigeria was not inevitable — it was a failure of choice.
But this book does more than remember. It reveal s the young UNI- BEN law student whose knowledge of football stunned Segun Odeg- bami in a chance meeting in Benin — a meeting narrated in this book with cinematic clarity.
Odegbami describes him as “fresh-faced, dark, handsome, and un- fathomably knowledgeable.” A man who could break down a match with the vocabulary of an elite gaffer and dexterity of a present day Peter Drury. Not many careers begin this way — in brilliance recog- nised by legends.
It reveals the Personal Assitant to Chief S.B. Williams, learning governance at the apex of Nigerian sport — learning not the rou- tines of bureaucracy, but the weight of responsibility.
It reveals the broadcaster, who created Pepsi Best of Football, a programme so well-crafted that it became a national ritual long be- fore cable television brought Europe into our homes. His mastery of storytelling, his depth of research, his ability to move effortlessly from Brazil to Belgium, from the Super Eagles to Boca Juniors — these were not happenstances. They came from the boy who studied SHOOT comics under the Benin sun. It reveals the entrepreneur, the pioneer who created Sportshaq, Nigeria’s first true sports bar. Those who visited still speak of it with reverence — a fusion of football, mu- sic, debate, and camaraderie. A place where the air was thick with dreams and the drinks were famously cold.
The testimonies in this book confirm what we already knew: Sport- shaq was not a business; it was a cultural institution.
It reveals the mentor, whose Cowbell Football Academy opened a pathway for children who had nothing but talent and a prayer. The testimonies here — from corporate leaders, SANs, journalists, and former players — describe a man who coached discipline as vigor- ously as he coached skill, a man who gave his own resources so that other people’s children could dream.
And it reveals the public servant, headhunted to chair the Edo State Sports Commission. His account of that chapter is unflinching. It is the story of a man who walked into public office with vision, refused to bend to the old ways, and chose integrity over convenience — a rare act in our climate.
Every tribute in this book — from Ozekhome to Odegbami, from Halim to Akinwunmi, from Ogala to Abulele — converges on one truth: This man has lived sports in a way few Nigerians ever have.
As I read, I could not help connecting the strands of his journey to the national reforms I later championed — the 10-Year Football Master Plan, the Reclassification of Sports to Business, and the Na- tional Sports Industry Policy (NSIP). These reforms were built on the belief that: sports growth must be predictable, governance must be transparent, youth pathways must be systematic, and talent must be nurtured, not discovered by accident.
Godwin’s life is a living argument for these principles. He was practising the ethos of future Government thinking, long before Government itself started thinking. He was treating sports as business long before Government created any such policy framework. He was advocating accountability long before it became national policy. He was building academies long before they were understood as engines of national development.
This book confirms that people like Dudu-Orumen were the early architects of the ecosystem Nigeria is now trying to formalise. His legacy shows us that reform is not merely technical — it is personal, sacrificial, and shaped by decades of persistence.
What this book offers Nigeria today is both memory and warning: that greatness is not an accident; it is the sum of vision, discipline, and deliberate investment.
That the golden age of Midwest sports did not happen by chance; it happened because men like Ogbemudia were intentional.
