At the Faculty of Law, during a keenly contested election, I supported a candidate for the presidency of LASU LAWS. We lost.

I moved on immediately. Our candidate did not. I simply parted ways with him. That, to me, was the spirit of sportsmanship. Nothing was worth inviting bitterness into my soul. And this was before I became a person of faith.

Dele Farotimi’s candidate won.

Once that election was over, we turned to preparations for the Lagos State University Students’ Union Government election. One morning, as I stood in front of the Faculty of Law, Dele Farotimi walked up to me and asked pointedly, “I am running for the presidency of the Students’ Union Government. What do you think?”

I said, “Why not?”

Then came the next question: “Would you support me?”

I said, “Yes.”

If you know me, you know that my yes carries weight. I do not do half measures. I do not do “jẹ́ n lẹ́ Òrò, jẹ́ n lẹ́ ẹ̀gúngún.” If I give you my yes in the daylight, it will not turn into a no in the dark hours of the night.

My “yes” is never induced by convenience. It is governed by the values I hold dear, values rooted in the universal principles by which God made the world to function.

I was like that before I became a person of faith. Becoming a person of faith only cemented it.

Do not misunderstand me. I am flawed in many ways and in many things. But in this, I have always sought to remain steadfast: loyal first to God, and to the truth of my conscience under God.

I also ran in that election for the office of Director of Welfare. We both won.

I became the closest man to Dele in that government, and our relationship has endured to this day as a lifelong brotherhood and friendship of incalculable value.

If I had made bitterness part of my strategy, I would never have known what I stood to lose. I would have forfeited the rare privilege of doing life with a precious soul like Dele Farotimi. That would have been what Olakunle Soriyan calls unconscious loss.

Bitterness is too costly. It produces a double loss: first, the contamination of one’s soul, the heaviness of one’s spirit, the disturbance of one’s peace; and then the loss of people, the most priceless gift God has given humanity.

We are beings of relationship. In the creation story, we are the only beings whose making is introduced with the words, “Let Us…” God spoke within His own company because He was about to make a being whose existence, function, and relevance would be tied to companionship.

I later ran for the office of President of the Students’ Union Government of Lagos State University and lost.

That same evening, I issued a press statement congratulating the winner.

Let it be clear: I knew he had won. If he had not, I might have challenged the outcome through every lawful means available. But even then, I would not have embraced the trap of bitterness.

In my final year, I campaigned vigorously for the same man who had run against me in my faculty when I contested for the presidency, the very man who could be said to have split my votes and cost me that office.

I could do that because I refused to submit to the wiles of bitterness.

Running for office was, to me, about service. And one cannot become bitter because people refused what one believed was a selfless offering.

You see, I am no stranger to conflict.

I was young. I was not yet a Christian when I became deeply involved in Students’ Union politics at Lagos State University, in the manner I have described above and beyond. I struggled with many things.

But one thing was always beneath me: peddling lies about opponents in order to gain advantage.

Call it propaganda.
Call it subterfuge.
I wanted no part in it.

As for me, I do not believe that everything is fair in war.

I will not sacrifice the truth on the altar of ambition.

I will not wound my conscience in order to win.

I will not say anything about anyone in haste without first finding out the truth of it.

I also believe that disagreement is inevitable in life. Yoruba philosophy says, àhọ́n àti ẹnu ń jà: as close as the mouth and the tongue are, they still disagree.

But I also believe that every disagreement must meet certain conditions.

First, it must be predicated on values, not ego. What values are we trying to preserve? What vice are we trying to dismantle?

Second, it must be conducted in accordance with the principles that brought the parties together in the first place.

Those principles may be found in a gentleman’s agreement, a contract, a constitution, a by-law, or any other framework that governs the relationship.

Third, no matter how deep the disagreement, we must never become bitter and lose the edge of our humanity and fairness.

This is not easy. It requires that we remove ego from the equation, focus on the real issues, identify an unbiased arbiter where necessary, and submit the matters in dispute to due process.

We cannot be a judge in our own cause.

And we cannot seek justice merely by recruiting supporters while refusing to submit yourself to fair process.

I believe we do not fight persons; we fight issues, and we do so in accordance with principle.

I suppose that is what Yoruba wisdom means when it says, tà bá ń jà bí ká kú kọ́: we may disagree, but never to the point where we wish the other person ruined.

Do have an INSPIRED week aged with the family.