By Tony Okafor
I have covered Anambra State as a journalist for close to twenty-six years, and in all that time I cannot recall a single day when I met Professor Chukwuma Charles Soludo in person.
Not before he became governor. Not even now that he sits on the highest political seat in the state.
I have never had that luck.
Perhaps because of that distance – and fuelled by the usual grapevine stories – I built up a fixed image of him as a hard, bookish man, lost in economic theories, someone who scarcely has time to smile at anyone… maybe not even at home with his own family.
But recent events have proved me wrong. Very wrong.
On at least three different occasions, Professor Soludo has shown a completely different side of himself – warm, expressive and, yes, downright romantic!
The first was that now-famous video where he joined the fray and danced freely to Mike Ejiagha’s highlife classic “Gwo Gwo Ngwo Music.”
It wasn’t the sort of thing one would expect from a man reputed for seriousness. Yet he was completely at ease, enjoying the beat and the moment.
The second was more recent – a playful dance with his son to a quirky calisthenic track that has since gone viral. With that move, he gave an unexpected stamp of approval to his son’s unusual music.
And then came the big one.
The governor’s birthday message to his wife, Nonye, who just turned 55.
On social media, he wrote to her with words that could melt even the hardest of hearts:
“I really do not see this aging thing with you. For all I care, your beauty is ageless and your energy is fadeless. You were made specially for me, and I couldn’t have imagined going through this universe without you.
“Every day, I thank God for engracing me with such a great soulmate. Happy birthday Nono, the children and I celebrate you today in a very special way. May your paths continue to shine brightly. I love you both now and always!”
These are not the words of a man governed only by economic graphs or political strategy. These are the words of a man who treasures family, affection, and is unafraid to declare it publicly.
Interestingly, this came just months after his wife had called him “my king” on his own 65th birthday.
For someone like me, who for years thought of the governor as an unsmiling, austere intellectual, these glimpses into his private, human side have been nothing short of shocking – and refreshing.
They remind us that public figures, even the sternest of them, can still nurture and express tenderness and romance in their personal lives.
Governor Soludo, through these simple but striking moments, has shown that leadership does not kill love.
Honestly, I never knew Governor Soludo is romantic.
