There are moments in history that don’t come with fanfare, flashing lights, or viral hashtags. Instead, they come with a quiet sentence. A pause. A public truth slipped into a celebration. At the 2025 Ogidi Day celebration, deep in the cultural heartland of Kogi, one such moment occurred.
Former Governor Yahaya Bello, standing before a vibrant crowd of traditional rulers, community leaders, and citizens, turned to one man and said: “We are proud of what you’re doing here in Kogi State and in your motherland Delta State… At the appropriate time, we will send you a message.”
He was speaking to Prince Olatunji Olusoji.
To the untrained ear, it was a passing compliment. But to those who understand the language of legacy and leadership in Nigeria, especially in a land where endorsements are rarely given lightly, it was far more. It was a statement loaded with significance. It was recognition. It was encouragement. And for many, it was prophecy.
That moment, subtle yet powerful, did not happen in isolation. For years, Prince Olatunji Olusoji has been building quietly, without noise, without cameras. Long before Yahaya Bello made his statement, the work had already spoken. Across Kogi West and beyond, communities have felt the quiet reach of Olusoji’s compassion. Through his foundation, the Prince Olatunji Olusoji Foundation (PROOF), hundreds of lives have been touched. Over 1,000 young people who otherwise may have missed out on university dreams were empowered with free JAMB registrations. In a country where one test can define a future, that kind of intervention isn’t just help; it is hope.
He didn’t stop there. In a state where agriculture remains the heartbeat of the rural economy, Prince Olusoji made it a point of duty to empower farmers distributing insecticides, fertilizers, and critical inputs across five major centers. These weren’t symbolic donations. They were investments into the food security of the state. For the elderly, the widows, the vulnerable, stipends were given discreetly, consistently. In places where government support has failed, this private citizen chose to stand in the gap not for applause, but because he believes it is right.
This is not politics. This is leadership before power.
Prince Olusoji is from the Okun axis of Kogi State—a region that, despite its intellect, integrity, and contributions, has never produced a governor. It is a truth that stings many, and rightfully so. But what makes Olusoji different is that while he carries the hopes of his people, he does not carry bitterness. He is deeply Okun, yes. But he is not a tribal figure. He is a bridge builder. His generosity reaches Ebira villages and Igala towns. His vision is not Okun alone it is Kogi.
That is why Yahaya Bello could speak the way he did. It wasn’t just an endorsement of a man. It was an acknowledgment of a rising force. A recognition that someone, somewhere, is doing the work already. The kind of work we often only see in campaign seasons but for Prince Olusoji, it is a way of life. Even without holding public office, he has delivered more meaningful development than many with access to state coffers. He has done so through sacrifice, through personal investment, and through love for a land that has not yet given him a title.
And while we speak of love for land, it is important to mention that he is a man of both tradition and intellect. The Asiwaju of Ayere Kingdom. The Bashorun Akinjagula of Ogidi. A royal son who does not sit on his titles, but walks with them in humility. And when he is not at home with elders and kings, he is abroad sharpening his mind—earning credentials from the London School of Economics and Oxford University’s Blavatnik School. This is a man who respects the palace and the policy room. A man who can sit with a village chief and speak with a president in the same breath.
His presence is calm. His language is measured. His actions speak louder. In a country flooded with ambition, Prince Olusoji’s humility is refreshing. In a time when noise is mistaken for capacity, his quiet results are revolutionary.
So when Yahaya Bello said, “At the appropriate time, we will send you a message,” maybe he was speaking of something greater than politics. Maybe he was echoing the voice of the people. Because messages don’t always come through party channels or official statements. Sometimes, they come through the farmer who harvested more than he expected. Through the girl who passed her exams because someone gave her a chance. Through the elder who receives a stipend that reminds him he’s not forgotten. Through the whisper in the streets that says, “This one is different.”
Maybe the message is already here.
Maybe it’s time we stop waiting for Abuja or Lokoja to tell us what we already know. Maybe the message has already been written in the hearts of those whose lives have changed—not through campaign rallies, but through compassion.
Kogi State is ready for a new kind of leader. Not one who demands to be followed, but one who earns it through sacrifice. Not one who shouts to be seen, but one whose impact cannot be ignored. Not one who claims power as a right, but one who treats it as a responsibility.
The people are watching. The tide is shifting. The message is clear.
And when the appropriate time comes, as former Governor Yahaya Bello said, the call will not go to someone who has waited in the shadows. It will go to the one who has already stepped into the light, doing the work.
Prince Olatunji Olusoji may not have declared anything. But the people have already begun to declare him.
And that is how true leadership begins.
ASA writes
