The first time I had the privilege of meeting Peter Rufai was in December 2017 at a charity exhibition match, which also doubled as the birthday celebration of one of my bosses, Barrister Seyi Akinwunmi.
I was in one of the changing rooms at Campos Mini Stadium in Lagos, getting water to distribute to the football legends scheduled to play that day, when Peter Rufai approached me and called me “Goddess.”
I turned around and was stunned. There he was—the towering last line of defence for Nigeria’s national team—getting my attention. I wanted to scream with excitement, but I quickly composed myself, smiled, and asked if he needed anything. What followed was a conversation I will never forget:
Peter: “I don’t need anything. I just wanted to tell you that I watch you on TV talking football and I admire your eloquence. You’re beautiful too.”
Me (Nelly): Taken aback, surprised, and pleased “Oh, thank you, Legend! This means a lot. To hear that someone I grew up watching is now watching me and likes my work—I’m humbled!”
Peter: Smiling that charming smile of his “You’re most welcome, Goddess. Keep up the good work. You’re destined for the top.”
Me: Blushing shamelessly “Oh, thanks, Dodo! Can I have a picture, please?”
Peter: “I was actually going to ask for a picture too, but since you’ve asked, let’s take one.”
And so, we took a picture together. When others came into the room, he pointed at me and said, “She’s Number 1.”
I went home that day and told my late father—himself a huge fan of Rufai and the Super Eagles—with great excitement. I said, “Daddy, I met Rufai o! And not just him, but many of your heroes, our heroes!” He smiled and said something that has stayed with me: “You are living not just your life but mine too.”
My father and I shared a deep love for football, especially the Super Eagles.
Fast-forward to March this year, I stumbled upon a video of Dodo Mayana on Facebook at an event. He looked disheveled, scruffy—even borderline ill. I knew something wasn’t right. I reached out to an elder in the media industry to ask about Rufai’s health. Sadly, my fears were confirmed: Dodo was battling an ailment.
I found a way to contact him after losing his number. He was really down. I offered to organize a fundraiser for him, but he flatly refused. I tried to persuade him, but he wouldn’t budge. I think, at that point, he was slowly giving up and didn’t want to burden anyone.
From then on, I did my best to stay in touch, until I became consumed by my own battles and the ups and downs of life.
Reading the news of his passing yesterday broke me in ways I’m still struggling to process. But my consolation lies in knowing that he didn’t just live—he stamped his legacy on the sands of time.
Peter Rufai was a national and international gem. Monuments should be named in his honour.
Journey well to the other side, Legend. I haven’t quite reached that “top” you encouraged me toward—procrastination and life haven’t helped—but remembering your words, I will keep trying.
Rest in peace, Dodo Mayana. 🕊️