By CP Edward Awolowo Ajogun, Esq, psc, Rtd.
The late CP Tunde Adagunduro, Rtd, and I entered the Nigeria Police Academy together in Kaduna in 1988 as young graduate officers of the Cadet ASP Course. From the start, he distinguished himself as a man of discipline, intelligence, and admirable composure. In the classroom he was good; on the parade ground he was precise; in conduct he was refined; and in character he embodied honour.
Beyond these professional attributes was a deeper radiance. He was warm, gregarious, and naturally sociable, moving freely among coursemates with a smile that seldom left his face. Even under the strain of operational and investigative duties, that smile never dimmed. It reflected his gentle heart and generous spirit.
He stood firmly for justice throughout his service. In operations, he was energetic, brave, and fearless in confronting those who threatened societal peace. His career rose steadily and concluded at the respected rank of Commissioner of Police, a rank he carried with quiet integrity until retirement.
His Ijebu heritage — rich in industry, social vibrancy, and cultural pride — shaped him deeply. He carried this into business, becoming a hotelier of repute whose name commanded respect in the hospitality sector.
Our friendship was full of joy and humour. We often teased each other about the meanings of our Yoruba surnames — his, Adagunduro, “the one who stops wars,” and mine, Ajogun, “the irrepressible, unyielding warrior.” Every meeting began with this playful ritual: he the natural peacekeeper, I the restless fighter. And he never failed to tease me about my middle name, Awolowo, insisting with warm mischief that the sage’s cap never rested on my head because the Dideolu estate roll had not recognised me. These were the laughs only coursemates understand — deep, sincere, and shaped by decades of shared brotherhood.
His passing on 28 August 2025 struck me with profound sadness. He was vibrant, energetic, socially radiant, and free of bitterness. Nothing in his bearing suggested proximity to death. But death remains the only war no man can postpone or win. And so, the man who stopped many wars could not stop this last one.
As we prepare to lay him to rest on 29 November 2025, I reflect on a life marked by courage, dignity, justice, warmth, and unwavering loyalty. And I honour him with the following oriki-praise that truly captures his essence:
Adagunduro
the one who sits firmly until all things are set right;
the strength that steadies a trembling earth;
the restorer who does not allow evil to spoil truth;
the calm force who waits with patience until justice rises;
the steadfast one who does not tremble before difficulty;
the guardian who stands firm when fear enters the home;
the presence that turns brokenness into healing;
the voice that shapes confusion into clarity;
The man who stops wars.
Farewell, my coursemate.
Farewell, my brother.
Farewell, Adagunduro — the man who stopped wars, until the day war came for him.
May Olódùmarè grant you peaceful rest.
Sun ré o, Ọmọ Ọdẹ tí kì í sá; iranti rẹ̀ kì yóò parí ní ayé.
Sleep well, steadfast hunter who never fled; your memory will not fade from this world.
