Father Slattery And Responsible Elitism – 2025 Father Slattery Annual Lecture

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LECTURE DELIVERED BY HIS EXCELLENCY, PROF. YEMI OSINBAJO, SAN, GCON, IMMEDIATE PAST VICE PRESIDENT OF THE FEDERAL REPUBLIC OF NIGERIA AT THE VERY REVEREND FATHER SLATTERY ANNUAL LECTURE 2025 IN LAGOS ON 10TH SEPTEMBER 2025

Protocols

I am really pleased and honoured to have been invited by the President of Saint Finbarr’s Old Boys Association (SFOBA), my dear friend of many years, Patrick Doyle and his executive team to speak at this year’s Father Slattery Memorial Lecture. I must also commend SFOBA for its steadfast commitment to honouring the memory of the visionary founder of this great institution.

To have sustained this tradition consistently for 24 years is no small achievement, and it speaks volumes about the sense of duty of the SFOBA. It is also remarkable that Father Slattery’s life and work have been well documented in biographical accounts. Some of the best ones are those written by a distinguished Old Boy, Professor Adedeji Badiru. These include The Blessings of a Father (2013), The Story of Saint Finbarr’s College (2018), and My Everlasting Education at Saint Finbarr’s College (2020). These works preserve not just the story of the man, but also the spirit of the institution he founded. And certainly, we are better able to inspire the future when we preserve and tell the stories of the values that built the foundations on which the present stands. Sadly, such biographical preservation is not done frequently enough, so I think Professor Badiru and others who have undertaken these works deserve our deepest gratitude for their foresight and dedication.

For an Igbobian, student of Igbobi College, in my time in secondary school 1969 -1975, St. Finbarr’s was not good news at all. In fact, Saint Finbarr’s was bad news. Why? St Finbarr’s was responsible for some of our most traumatic experiences as students. The College could be described as a serial tormentor of my alma mater, Igbobi College, Yaba.

Let me tell you the stories. The first experience was in 1968, we were looking forward to starting school at Igbobi College in January 1969, and so we were obviously rooting for IC in the 1968 Principals Cup finals. Igbobi College established a two-goal lead courtesy of a penalty by our star defender, Tunde Martins, and a goal in open play by our centre forward, Arigbede. Martins sustained an injury and had to leave the game. It resulted in a reversal of fortune as a two-goal advantage ultimately became 3-2 in favour of Saint Finbarr’s courtesy of Peter Egbiri, who was known to sometimes wear canvas shoes (trainers) instead of football boots. 1969 was a fascinating year. Saint Finbarr’s had a fearsome forward line consisting of Peter Egbiri, Bernard Senaya, Richard Ajibade, Emilio John and Patrick de Adinkwe. Emilio John, by this time, had become a legend. Unfortunately, Igbobi College was defeated by King’s College in the semi-finals.

Just after the semi-finals, the rumour spread that Emilio John was dead. Morbid as it may sound, the KC boys rejoiced, while we in Igbobi mourned the thought that without Emilio in the team, we could have had our best chance.

The day of the finals came, and there was no Emilio in Finbarr’s lineup. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a loud roar came from the crowd, dead Emilio was bouncing a ball into the stadium. Needless to say, a dispirited King’s College got the beating of its life. 1971 was to be our magic year. Emilio John had come to Igbobi as an A-level student along with Peter Akhigbe. Igbobi won all the way to the finals. The day of the finals came. Here we were against Finbarr’s, but now with the lethal Emilio John in our team and Peter Akhigbe too.

Full-time, it was a draw. Extra time, still a draw. Then the penalty shootout. Emilio took his shot, and he scored against Finbarr’s. The stadium erupted! But someone missed his shot, Finbarr’s scored all shots, and the Finbarrs had won the 1971 finals.

In 1972, there was a new crop of players on Finbarr’s side, such as Eyo and Amayo, with Marcellus Obinatu as the goalkeeper. By now, Tunde Martins had become the captain of the IC Rockets; his prowess as a centre back (number 5) had seen him evolve into a legend of sorts. The headline of one major newspaper was “beat Martins, beat Igbobi”. Semi-finals were Igbobi versus Finbarr’s. Finbarr’s beat Martins, and Igbobi lost again.

Saint Finbarr’s went on to defeat Baptist Academy in the finals. Saint Finbarr’s College Akoka established its dominance by winning the Principals Cup in 1968, 1969, 1971, 1972 and 1973. They won each time because they were more intentional about attracting the best talent and because they were better prepared. That was the vision of the founder and principal of the school: to develop a school that was great in academics and vocational studies and phenomenal in football.

My topic is: Father Slattery and Responsible Elitism.

Let me make two separate but related observations. First, it is the responsibility of the elite. In every society, there exists a group who, by virtue of education, opportunity, and influence, constitute the elite. We, here in this hall, are part of that group. Though we are but a fraction of the nation’s population, our clout far outweighs our numbers. History teaches us, time and again, that it is the elite — by their choices of action or inaction — who ultimately chart the destiny of nations. Yet, behind every enduring institution and every flourishing society lies a handful of men and women who chose to rise above personal comfort, who turned away from the fleeting pursuit of wealth or safety, and instead poured themselves wholly into the labour of building a greater cause. Second, flows from the first, attaining greatness or significance comes from honouring the obligation that privilege confers on us.

So it is evident that true greatness does not lie in wealth or titles. It lies in living for something greater than oneself, in dedicating one’s life to a cause larger than personal ambition. Practically every person who has attained significance must embrace sacrifice. Nelson Mandela spent 27 years in prison, during which he lost his family life and endured unimaginable hardship, yet his refusal to compromise ensured South Africa’s freedom was won on fair and enduring terms. Few today have Mandela’s global stature. The man in whose honour this lecture is held yearly was an Irish priest posted to Nigeria at the age of 25. He spent the rest of his life here in Nigeria.

In the six decades that he lived and worked in Nigeria, as a newspaper editor, he championed the cause of Nigeria’s independence from colonial rule. He served first as teacher and games master at St. Gregory’s College, and then went on to establish St. Finbarr’s College, the first secondary school at the time to offer full basic education, vocational and technical training and arts. Saint Finbarr’s College was built largely on his personal efforts. His fundraising began with a small grant to buy 20 plots of land in Akoka. He literally brought the school from one that had no name with just 6 students to the iconic institution we have today.

Today, it is impossible to speak of Nigeria’s international reputation in football without mentioning the protégés of the diminutive Irishman, international players like Thompson Oliha, Nduka Ugbade, Samson Siasia, and Henry Nwosu, just to mention a few. Six players from Saint Finbarr’s College were selected into the first junior National Team, the Flying Eagles. Henry Nwosu, Stephen Keshi, Nathaniel Ogedegbe, Wakilu Oyenuga, the late Obe Adedeji, and Emeka James were selected to make the first Flying Eagles and later called Junior Eagles. Nathaniel Ogedegbe, Henry Nwosu, Paul Okoku and Stephen Keshi were later selected to the national team. Stephen Keshi became the Captain of the National team, and more recently coached the Togo National team. Godwin Odiye represented the country during the African Nations Cup. Now that’s impact!

Although, many St. Finbarr’s old boys went on to do great things in the professions: in the military, Late Admiral Patrick Koshoni, Tunde Mayaki current Chair of Sterling Bank, and in my own profession so many of my colleagues and friends, Babajide Koku SAN, Norrison Quakers SAN, Moyo Onigbanjo SAN (served as Attorney General of Lagos State), my law partner and co founder of the corporate law firm Simmons Cooper Dapo Akinosun SAN, my friends Deji Alli of ARM, Kayode Anibaba, David Ige, Joseph Ajanlekoko.

Yet St. Finbarr’s is probably the only college in Nigeria that can claim a global reputation for a specific activity. Football. And it was not by accident. Uniquely, Saint Finbarr’s has attained global recognition for football — thanks to Father Slattery’s deliberate policy of identifying, nurturing, and educating talent. But he never became a wealthy school owner! That the great St. Finbarr’s College is the vision of one man whose family and scions will not inherit one naira of the great work he did is an object lesson in the power of one, self-sacrifice and service to a cause higher than oneself. There is yet another missionary, Pa Sydney Granville Elton, and his wife, Hannah Elton, who came to Nigeria and settled in Ilesa in 1937.

He is regarded as the father of Pentecostalism in Nigeria. He mentored all the major Pentecostal pastors, Archbishop Benson Idahosa, Pastor W.F. Kumuyi of Deeper Life Bible church, Pastor EA Adeboye of the RCCG, and Bro. Gbile Akanni and Bishop David Oyedepo of Living Faith. He lived for 50 years in Ilesa but worked all over southern Nigeria, particularly. He died in Ilesa in 1987. His wife had died in Ilesa four years earlier. Before his death, he urged their only child, their daughter Ruth Elton, to continue the work. Ruth was a baby when her parents brought her to Nigeria. Ruth also spent over 50 years in ministry among the Ebira (Igbirra) people, doing evangelism and health work amongst the poorest in the villages. She was known for her complete integration into the simple and basic life of the many Ebira villages where she lived and worked, usually without electricity or modern comforts. She gave up her British citizenship and became a Nigerian.

She spent 88 years in Nigeria and died in August 2025, a few days before she turned 92. Pa Elton does not have a monument in his honour anywhere in Nigeria. Aside from the very basic accommodation where he lived in Ilesa, he owned no property. Yet he was the arrowhead of one of the most consequential movements in African Church history. His prophetic voice defined the calling and vision of Nigerian evangelical Christianity, especially in its future global influence and impact.

He discipled the men and women who would disciple millions, pioneered the establishment of Bible schools for men and women, ordained or not, etc. But perhaps most telling from the perspective of our topic, he sowed his entire family to missionary work in Nigeria. Yet another British missionary, Dr. T. F. Davey, is known for his pioneering work in the establishment of the Uzuakoli Leprosy Settlement (Abia State).

At a time when leprosy was feared and avoided, he worked and lived among the lepers as medical superintendent for over 20 years from 1936. He developed Uzuakoli into a world-class leprosy research, training, and treatment centre, combining medical work with evangelism and community rehabilitation. But many were neither priests nor persons sworn to an oath. Take Dr. Ameyo Stella Adadevoh. In July 2014, a Liberian-American man, Patrick Sawyer, arrived in Lagos visibly ill. He was Nigeria’s index case of Ebola. Dr. Adadevoh, a senior consultant physician at First Consultants Medical Centre in Lagos, immediately suspected Ebola, even though the patient denied exposure. She took the critical decision to quarantine him, despite immense pressure from Liberian officials who demanded he be released to attend a conference.

By standing firm, she prevented Ebola from spreading in Nigeria’s megacity of 20 million people, where it could have been catastrophic. Sadly, Dr. Adadevoh contracted the virus while caring for Sawyer and died on 19 August 2014. Her courage and professionalism saved countless Nigerian lives and set an example of medical ethics and sacrifice. She has been celebrated as a national heroine. But it may be a great cause that does not involve the ultimate sacrifice; it may be in taking up the education of vulnerable children, or the education of the blind. I met a lady Chioma Ohakwe in 2000, I had been told by a member of my staff about this lady somewhere around Tejuosho who lived in a one-room and parlour with about 6 blind children. Two of them were her own siblings, one was her husband’s sibling and two of their friends. They were about to be evicted at the time, and we got them alternative accommodation. Later, more blind children of poor parents were handed over to Chioma, and gradually, the Bethesda Home and School was born.

It is a completely free private school and home for blind students. As of last year, Bethesda is home to 472 students. 152 of them are in universities, and the school and home are completely free. Several have graduated from university, and some are already in paid employment. By the way, Chioma herself has no formal education. She is merely apprenticed as a tailor. Her complete commitment to helping poor blind children – male and female – attain their best dreams is an incredible testament to a life of sacrifice.

In 2017, as Vice President, I was looking for a smart lawyer and preferably a university teacher to fill the role of my adviser, legal, research and compliance. I interviewed several people. I had set a high standard, and there was no point getting someone whose knowledge of the law was not sharper than mine. I eventually interviewed Balkisu Saidu, an Associate Professor of Law from Usman Dan Fodio University. She was as sharp as nails and had a PhD in Energy Law from a distinguished Japanese university. She had an interesting story. She was forced into marriage at the age of 13 and had her first child at age 13 and another at 14. Her mother then decided that she was not going to watch this intelligent child go to waste. She got her divorced from her much older husband, took her out of his home to the anger of the community, and she and her children were ostracised. She worked and scraped all she could to get her daughter to school. She did well and eventually achieved success.

I met her mother, Adawiyya, on an official visit to Sokoto State. She said to me, “When I die, I want this house and compound to become a school for girls.” She died 6 months later. Balkisu, I and others set about making her dream come true, with the help of Mrs Adejoke Adefulire of SGGS, we built the Adawiyya Academy for Girls in Sokoto, in her memory. The school offers free, world-class primary education to girls from the poorest homes. I, too, have tried to practice what I preach! And I am sure there are many here who are doing something or the other along these same lines.

I went to an excellent primary school. My reading and writing skills and my imagination were greatly influenced by the quality of the primary education I received. In 2011, while pastoring, some partners and I started developing a scheme to provide high-quality free primary education for children from the poorest families. The schools are called Liberty Schools. We only admit children whose parents cannot afford any type of fees. We have two in Lagos, Obanikoro and Ikota. I will show you on the screen, one in Kishi in Oyo state, also on the screen, and the Adawiyya Academy for Girls in Sokoto state. In 2015, my first visit to Borno state, on my visit to the IDP camps, I saw thousands of orphaned kids, male and female. I decided that I would give them the best quality education and home.

Then Governor Kashim Shettima, now Vice President, gave me a large piece of land in Maiduguri, and we built the Learning Centre, a home and school for 1500 kids. It’s on the screen. This was a sports event. It’s incredible what children can learn if given an opportunity. These kids could only speak Kanuri, not even Hausa, let alone English. In less than a year, they were able to speak English well. We teach robotics, music, and phonics in our schools. We also have a radio school programme in the North West. The Radio School Programme (RSP) delivers foundational literacy and numeracy to out-of-school children through an innovative 84-episode audio broadcast. In its first year, it reached 56,516 children, achieving a 40% proficiency rate (from a zero baseline), 51% girl enrollment, and around 70% learner and teacher retention. Building on this success, the following year, an enhanced version was introduced with added teaching hours, uniforms, and school feeding, enrolling 250 children in Sokoto and Kano. Remarkably, 40% of these children gained admission and scholarships directly into Primary Three, further demonstrating the programme’s impact on access, equity, and long-term educational opportunity. I really think that we can do something, no matter how modest. The truth is that compared to the rest of the populace, we are privileged and well-positioned.

So, friends and colleagues, as we reflect on the towering legacy of Father Slattery and the examples of others who, in quiet dignity and unrelenting sacrifice, gave themselves wholly to causes greater than themselves, the question now comes to us: What will we do with the privilege we carry?

We, the elite, cannot merely bask in the comfort of our education, our positions, and our influence. To do so would be to betray the memory of those who laboured and gave without thought of personal reward. Father Slattery did not build St. Finbarr’s so that he might wear a crown; Pa Elton did not spend fifty years in Ilesa so that his name might glitter on monuments; Dr. Adadevoh did not lay down her life so that she might be praised. No – they each chose sacrifice over self, duty over ease, purpose over comfort. And in so doing, they attained true greatness.

The future of Nigeria will not be written by chance. It will be written by the choices of her elite — by you and me. We must decide whether we will be remembered as a generation that squandered its privilege, or as one that rose with courage to invest intellect, influence, and resources into causes larger than ourselves. This is the call of responsible elitism: to lend our strength to the weak, to give our voice to the voiceless, to build institutions that outlive us, to fight for justice even when it costs us dearly, and to believe that the sacrifice of one can light the way for millions.
If Father Slattery could take six students on a nameless patch of land and create a legacy that shook the continent; if Pa Elton, in the obscurity of Ilesa, could plant seeds that blossomed into a global Christian movement; if a tailor with no formal education, like Chioma Ohakwe, could raise hundreds of blind children into scholars; then what excuse do we, with all our advantages, have for inaction?

Let it be said of us, as it is said of them, that we gave more than we kept, that we built more than we consumed, that we lived not for ourselves but for the higher calling of service. For in the end, true greatness is not measured by what we acquire, but by what we give away. And significance is never found in the comfort of self, but in the courage of sacrifice.

Thank you, and may God bless you all.