There are moments in life that leave us speechless, not because we have nothing to say, but because the pain is too deep, the loss too sudden, and the heart too heavy.
The tragic passing of Hon. Ibrahim Murtala Mohammed, Minister for Environment Science and Technology, who died in a plane crash on Wednesday, 6th August, 2025 with Minister for Defence, Dr. Omane Boamah and six others is one such moment for me.
Hon. Murtala was not just a public figure or a parliamentarian to me. He was my brother, my confidant, my friend. Our paths crossed just three years ago, yet the depth of connection we built felt like a lifetime. He treated me with a reverence and warmth that was rare. Anytime he saw me, in Parliament or outside, he would greet me with his usual respect, calling out, “My brother, the Chief,” and bowing his head in that sincere, humble way that only he could.
He didn’t just call me Chief, he treated me like one.
Time and time again, he would buy me smocks, beautiful Fugu, to express his love and appreciation. Each one was more than fabric; it was a gift from the heart, a symbol of a bond grounded in mutual respect and brotherhood.
I remember, as if it happened moments ago, our last meeting – Thursday, 31st July 2025, in Parliament. As always, he spotted me, came over with his signature warm handshake, and said, “Chief, I have to get you new Fugu. How are you?” I smiled and responded, “Thank you, Honourable.”
He asked again, “Do you need anything else?” I asked if I could also get a leather mat — the kind used by chiefs as carpets. Without hesitation, he replied, “Never mind, just send me the picture if you have it.” And on Sunday, the 3rd of August, in the forenoon, I did – sending him both the picture of the mat and my own photo.
Now, that message, that moment, lives on as our final exchange. I never imagined it would be our last.
He was a man of his word, a man of peace, and a man who listened. I recall a time when he made comments that didn’t sit well with the Parliamentary Press Corps. They responded by blacklisting him. Two days later, he came to me to explain his side. Because of the deep trust between us, I could speak freely. I told him, “For this, Hon., you got it wrong. You shouldn’t have made that statement. So please, apologise to the media.”
He paused, smiled, and without pride or resistance, said, “Chief, I heard you. I will do that.”
And just like that – he made peace. That was the man he was: humble, thoughtful, and committed to doing right, even when it meant admitting a misstep.
These memories now live in my heart like sacred scripture.
And every time I wear one of the Fugu he gave me – I will see his face, hear his voice, and feel his spirit.
Tamale Central has lost a true son. Ghana has lost a principled leader. But I… I have lost a brother.
Your absence, Hon. Murtala, is like a silence that echoes in my soul. You gave so much and asked for so little. You served your people with fire in your heart and humility in your steps. Your respect for tradition, and for friendship made you the rarest kind of man.
Rest in peace, my brother the Honourable.
May Allah grant you Jannatul Firdaus.
And may your legacy continue to inspire those of us left behind.
You may be gone from our sight, but never from our hearts.
Nana Kwaku Agyei Kodie I, Asomkahene, Anum-Asamankese
Privately known as Samuel Osei Agyei
Member, Parliamentary Press Corps
