The recent propaganda authored by Ofiare and Nicholas—and shamelessly circulated by Victor Ekun in a frantic attempt to distract the public from their manipulation of authorities and their clumsy forgeries, which have plunged the leadership of our land into an artificial stalemate—stands as a mirror to their desperation. It is noise crafted to conceal misconduct, spectacle designed to blur the truth. Yet in its very excess, it betrays them. What was meant to project strength instead exposes fragility; what was intended to command belief reveals a shallow grasp of both history and honour.
Victor Ekun must understand this: to take the throne, he would have to conquer us entirely. And even then, he would
be left to rule over nothing but the traitors who pointed their left hands at their father’s house. Today, he has become a laughingstock among decent people. His attacks on the gatekeepers of our heritage only expose his own depravity. No amount of false narratives from the likes of Ofiare and Nicholas can change the truth of who Victor Ekun is or who he is not. The crown of Ososo is not for sale, and the ancestors do not recognise the signatures of desperate men.
Victor Ekun must realise that those pushing him have ulterior motives. They are not driven by love or loyalty to him. As the saying goes, “anyone who gives a toothless old man sugar cane has something else in his mind.” Some aim to further their interests while others seek to undermine the Igbedu family out of spite, envy, and generational jealousy. In essence, Victor Ekun is just a sacrificial animal, valued only for his blood, which they need to further their selfish interests. Whatever happens to him or his family’s reputation is irrelevant to them.
Take Ofiare, for instance—he openly shows hatred for the Igbedu family, not because they wronged him, but because he secretly covets the throne. He keeps his desire hidden, knowing he can never attain it due to his own history. Victor Ekun is being pushed from all sides, a sacrificial lamb used to test the ground, the gods, and our ancestors. He is caught between his late father’s counsel and those urging him towards shame and destruction. If Ofiare truly cared as a father, would he send his own son on such a mission just because of hatred? Would Ochiette have allowed his own son to be used as a pawn if he were alive? Victor Ekun is paying the price for his long absence from home during his father’s lifetime and the illusion of inclusion, hence he has now become a television remote to be used by children he can father and those who have baseless scores to settle.
We will not stoop to Ofiare and Nicholas’s gutter level. Instead, we will use this medium to inform and educate Victor Ekun of his true standing and status within the Itokura and Igbedu families of Ososo, which is the aim of this rejoinder. The very reason he has been avoiding home—the families that should choose the next king since the throne became vacant—but using unrecognised routes, manipulations, and deceit, forgetting that a king without followers is just a Nollywood king, which truly he has become. As the Gen Z generation will say, “your story go long!”
As our saying goes in Ososo: a bat and a butterfly may fly with birds, but they do not qualify to attend the meetings of birds. The concepts of ‘Iminafe’ and ‘Iminitha’ in Ososo are very clear: membership of ‘Iminafe’ does not automatically grant membership of a lineage; one can be part of ‘Iminafe’ but without blood ties, which means they have no ‘Iminitha’ in that kindred. This is not pride or arrogance by the Igbedu families; this is the culture of every kindred in Ososo.
Indeed, everyone should be proud of his lineage or family, but here we have a man in his sixties denying his ancestral lineage. The testimonies of other members of his family should have helped him to escape this shame, but the overpowering grip on him by Ofiare and his cohorts will not allow him to accept and be proud of his own lineage, forgetting that a good name is better than gold. Victor Ekun’s great-grandfather was adopted into the Itogbelekha family without any blood connection to any of our progenitors, which means he has no ‘Iminitha’ within the family despite being adopted into our ‘Iminafe’. No amount of claim or propaganda by a man outside the family can change Victor Ekun’s DNA overnight.
Once again, we state without doubt that Adamagbo was never Itogbelekha’s son, as they alleged, but an in-law who married Itogbelekha’s daughter, Oghomese. He was adopted into the Itogbelekha family due to his loyalty and service as a mercenary. This is why Victor Ekun’s father often said they were only good to be used.
Prince Itagbolekha [Itokura, the warrior] married Ikpeme from Ikpena quarter. They had the following children: Aniokhe, Ughenume, Onoruwe, Oghomeseh, and Simon Otugweye—popularly known as Itah Jegede, Itokura’s youngest son. Adamagbo was born to the late Mr. Eyaro and married Oghomese, daughter of Itokura. Though Eyaro resided in Anni quarter, his roots reached back to Oko, the land now called Ogori in modern-day Kogi State. This ancestry explains the connection between Ofiare and Victor Ekun: Ofiare is of the Ashore family of Ogori.
When Victor Ekun’s descendants and Ofiare’s grandfather first reached Ososo, they found a kingdom already steeped in tradition, with its monarchical roots firmly planted. They arrived as strangers plying a trade—the art of the oracle and divination. By offering spiritual support to the people, they earned their place in the kingdom. Soon, they were no longer outsiders, but well-grounded members of the community with their own farms and full rights as those born to the soil.
The union of Adamagbo Eyaro and Oghomese Itokura produced a large family: Peter Ogudamiyan, Summonu, Ajiboye, Abureh—famously called Iyin Ufiofo and Adeoju. Adeoju later married Itah Ufeboshi Arokamoni, and from their line came Odjiwo, who sired Nicholas. Till date, it is only Victor Ekun among all these branches who maintains the claim of descent from Itokura.
A significant rift formed during the era of Okuodu II, when the King clashed with Peter Ogudamiyan Adamagbo. Okuodu II underscored Adamagbo’s lack of ancestral ties to the Igbedu lineage, rebuking him for exploiting his palace privileges. That encounter birthed a legacy of grudges as Ugudamiyan’s father wept that his son had exposed him.
This was immortalised in folk songs of the late Iregba exponent of Udegua Street, popularly called Omonuyi. It became a folk tale among residents of Udegua in Okhe, even among children today. This encounter became the catalyst for Ayioke Aduroja’s vendetta, leading to the assassination of Okuedu II during the Civil War amidst arson and looting of the palace. Victor Ekun’s present actions are but a shadow of that same conflict.
However, he would do well to remember his predecessors; those who began this war vanished from history, their names wiped away despite all their power and acquisitions.
The grandfather of Victor Ekun is John Ekarabo Aduroja Adamagbo. John Ekarabo Okogbe changed his name from Aduroja to Ekun to sever public ties with the Adamagbo lineage. Due to his outward loyalty to the Igbedus, the late Chief Arokamoni—who served as regent following the death of Okuedu II—entrusted him with hosting the nine-day meeting of elders in Okhe, as the Chief often spent weeks tending to his farms. However, this privilege was abruptly withdrawn during the era of the UPN government in the former Bendel State, following a perceived betrayal by the placeholder. In a dramatic confrontation, the late Chief Arokamoni stormed the meeting of elders in Okhe, seizing the oracles and other regalia of office. He declared openly that Ekun was merely a ‘placeholder’ acting on his behalf and fundamentally unqualified for the position as he lacked Igbedu blood.
Despite this public humiliation, which garnered sympathy, the Igbedus still permitted Ekun Okogbe to preside over meetings as a senior chief after Arokamoni’s passing. The Igbedus have historically been gracious to the Adamagbo family—particularly the Ekuns—integrating them without discrimination, a hallmark of the Ososo people. Yet, a beneficiary of such kindness must respect established boundaries. This remains the crux of the matter: they were granted land and the proceeds of cash crops, but these privileges were revoked in the late 1980s when it became clear that Ochiette had become over-ambitious and begun to overstep his bounds, just as Victor Ekun has done today.
Ekarabo Ekun gave birth to Ochiette, who in turn fathered Victor Ekun. The seeds of the current discord were sown when Ochiette dared to put himself forward as a candidate during the selection process that eventually produced Anselm Obaitan in the 1980s.
The rebuke was swift and total. The entire Itokura family—including Nicholas’s father, the Itomos, Momohs, and the Udeji Attahs—rose against him. Even his own nephew, Rabi Concord, looked him in the eye and declared he had not a single drop of Itokura blood. The late High Chief Thomas Buoro delivered the fatal blow, throwing a proverb at Ochiette: “A piece of wood may soak in the river for a hundred years, but it will never become a crocodile.” Those words broke Ochiette. He retreated into bitter silence, shunning both the Itokura and Igbedu meetings until his death, nursing a grudge against Chief Thomas Buoro even into the afterlife.
Throughout the reign of the late Ichama II, Ochiette kept away from all family and palace activities and maintained enmity with Chief Thomas Buoro until the man passed on. Today, the tragedy continues. We have children of the men listed above, some claiming to be clergy, but in defiance to God’s words, they chose to distort the truth and become puppets for Victor Ekun and Ofiare’s assault on our history and heritage. By feeding this confusion, they are effectively desecrating their father’s grave. Their ‘evil concoction’ of lies—claiming Adamagbo was a ‘hidden son’ of Itokura—is laughable.
Why would a warrior of Itokura’s stature hide a son? When the throne was vacant, Itomo, the firstborn, declined it in favour of his hunting. Why then was Adamagbo, already a chief, never considered?
The Igbedus loathe incest, yet these liars imply Itokura gave his daughter to his own son. It is a ridiculous falsehood that will invoke curses from the dead. Victor Ekun must learn: no man truly seeks the Crown of Ede. The crown is organic; it seeks the head it was meant for. Those who trade in lies against forefathers’ legacies will find no forgiveness from posterity.
Ofiare Okoro has nothing at stake but his own ego. Known for pettiness and a narcissistic, sadistic streak, he is a man who has never shown enthusiasm for anything that might bring progress to Ososo. It is no surprise that he has seized this opportunity to sow chaos in an exercise where he is meant to be a mere observer.
Ofiare’s pettiness was felt most heavily during the last Itakpo festival. Contrary to sacred tradition, the celebration was held nine years after the previous one instead of seven, held hostage by his confrontational attitude and constant interference. Had it not been for the sheer doggedness of the age group responsible, the festival might have been lost entirely. In defiance, the group named themselves OSUNO’MOGWO—a rebellion against Ofiare’s control.
Before the selection of Ichama as Olososo of Ososo, a secret consultation took place. Augustine Odjiwo, Nicholas’s father, privately sought the wisdom of an oracle to see if the ancestors would favour him for the throne. In a twist of fate, the diviner he consulted was none other than Ofiare’s father. The elder’s message was blunt: the ancestors had already chosen. Only Anselm Obaitan, son of the late Okuedu II, was qualified for the position.
This raises a stinging question: is Ofiare now claiming his father—a man of the spirits—was a liar? By pushing his own ‘evil concoctions’, Ofiare is declaring war on the spiritual legacy of his own father.
Nicholas’s ignorance and frustration are almost pitiable. At first, he claimed Adamagbo was the son of Ede, but today he has signed a paper asserting Adamagbo is the son of Itokura. Nicholas owes his standing to the late King, yet he insults the very man who brought him into the limelight.
Victor Ekun, meanwhile, lacks the courage to declare his interest in the throne. Instead, he hides in the shadows, using young children to drive his hollow mission. The rot in the Ekun lineage did not start today. Ochiette, Victor’s father, weaponised his position as Secretary of the Igbedu family, holding family records hostage. His house remains a tomb for stolen heritage—sacred artifacts and personal effects of Okuodu, Orifa, and Itokura looted from the burnt palace. Victor Ekun shamelessly claims ownership of these artifacts.
Victor Ekun was a vulture monitoring the late King Anselm Obaitan, even as he lay on his sickbed in the National Hospital, Abuja. He hired a young man, with palace access, to exploit the monarch’s proximity, planning their ‘evil mission’ while the King’s life hung in the balance. These stolen items, lies, betrayal, and sellout of their heritage have become a living curse. They are building a throne out of theft and shadows, forgetting that in Ososo, what is taken by stealth is eventually reclaimed by the soil.
The assault by Victor Ekun did not start today. Suit No. CDCC/12/2022, a land case between the Adamagbo and Igbedu families, was emboldened by him. According to the claim, Adamagbo was present in the land long before the Igbedus arrived. Apart from Victor Ekun and the man he pushed forward, the other family members acknowledged the land belongs to the Igbedu family. Yet Victor continues to manipulate innocent young people to drive his ambition.
King Omodu Ede stands as the unbreakable bridge between our ancient past and contemporary history. Any attempt by Victor Ekun to manipulate the timeline proves his contempt for the sanctity of the family, which will be a curse on his head.
Victor Ekun’s lies expose his true origin. By manufacturing falsehoods and contracting Ofiare to sign them, he has signalled that he does not carry the spirit and blood of the Igbedu stock. The ancestors will resist him; his mission will end in disgrace for him and his internal conspirators.
High Chief Thomas Buoro chose the name Okogbe Ede Omodu for his second title—not merely because he married the monarch’s granddaughter, but because of the transcendent legacy of the youngest son of Ede. These titles are echoes of history that cannot be silenced. One thousand Victor Ekuns cannot diminish the greatness of Omini Ede and Omini Iyanta. Their mission is a shadow passing over a mountain; the shadow will vanish, but the mountain stands firm.
A secret drama unfolded when Chief Edutse, acting as regent, became the tool for their ‘midnight oracle’. To cement this dark pact, they swore a secret oath and attached innocent men’s names to documents without consent. The process was supervised by Ofiare.
Chief Edutse refused to remain a captive to Victor Ekun and Ofiare’s manipulations. The young man from Owo who performed the divination admitted he was a puppet. High Chief Edutse remains consistent: Victor Ekun was never selected by the Oracle. He now stands as the star witness in the case Victor Ekun instituted against the Igbedu family.
Questions remain:
If the selection was divine, why swear a secret oath?
Why were the chiefs and elders of the Itokura family excluded?
How could Victor Ekun be considered without Igbedu blood?
Why did Ofiare preside over absentee candidates?
Why is the aspiring King afraid to consult the chiefs and elders?
How often has he visited Ososo since his father’s burial?
How can he care for the people when he ignored betrayal in his own house?
Did Nicholas deceive Chief Edutse to get his thumbprint?
Did Victor forget his pending case against Oba Dele Obaitan and the Igbedu family?
Does Victor know he has no place in the Igbedu family tree?
Barrister/Pastor Dele Buoro and Bishop Itomo penned a formal letter to void the so-called selection process, offering a public apology for their role in a process that affronted the family.
Victor Ekun has carved a niche as a monarch of rejection and WhatsApp-made kingship. He is rejected by chiefs, elders, Ekpodos, women groups, youths, royal families, and the people of Ososo. Those who witnessed his recent induction saw a man drained and weak, not triumphant.
Victor seeks to drag everyone into the abyss with him, failing to realise he is sinking alone. Education is meant to forge emotional maturity, yet he treats the sacred throne as partisan play, using children he can father as his conclaves.
Victor’s ambition has severed the fragile threads that bound him to the living. Each whispered falsehood cuts deeper, leaving him in self-fashioned exile. The people of Ososo will never embrace him; the markets will not murmur his name, elders will not bless him, and even the wind will
