It was a moment I won’t forget in a hurry. I had just slipped into bed, ready to call it a day, casually checking my phone one last time before placing it on the bedside table. Then it struck—news I wasn’t prepared for. A message on the Nigeria Union of Journalists (NUJ) platform coldly announced the passing of Alhaji Tade Azeez.
It was like a punch to the chest. Not because death is rare or because Tade was too young to die—after all, we live in times when life’s burdens, especially on men, have become a silent killer. No, it wasn’t just about his passing; it was the suddenness and the memories that came rushing back, memories of a man who had left a mark in my personal and professional life.
Alhaji Tade Azeez was no ordinary man in Nigerian football. As a FIFA-accredited referee and Chairman of the Lagos State Referees’ Council, he was a towering figure with a commanding presence, both on the field and within the circles of football officiating. His voice carried weight, and his decisions were respected. He approached the calling of officiating not just as a duty, but as a passion—an honour he never took for granted.
Our paths first crossed meaningfully in 2006 during the Women’s League promotion playoffs in Lagos. My team, NITO Queens Football Club, was drawn into a fiercely competitive group alongside arch-rivals from Oyo State. Only one team would qualify, and though we had a strong, well-prepared squad, I knew from experience that in football, technical ability alone isn’t enough—you also need fair officiating and a bit of luck.
Fearing poor officiating might cost us our dream, I reached out to two key figures. First, I called the late Coach Yemi Tella, the man who led Nigeria’s U-17 team to World Cup glory. I asked him to help appeal to the Lagos Referees’ body to ensure fair play. His response was blunt and laced with frustration. “Referees? They ruin what coaches labour to build. Even Tade knows I don’t speak on such issues. But since it’s you, I’ll try.”
Then I turned to the late Chief Taiwo Ogunjobi, my football mentor and a man whose death in February 2019 left a void in the game. Thankfully, his response was reassuring. “That shouldn’t be difficult for Tade. You’re not asking for favours, just fairness. I’ll call him now, and you can follow up.” True to his word, Chief Ogunjobi called Tade and then sent me his number.
Within fifteen minutes, Tade Azeez himself called. He confirmed his conversation with Ogunjobi and assured me of unbiased officiating. He even mentioned that Coach Tella had called too and joked, saying, “Coach Tella? That man curses referees for fun! The fact he called on your behalf means you must be someone he truly respects.”
And true to his word, Tade was present at every match—right from the opening whistle to the final game. Fans in Lagos were stunned to see the Chairman of the State Referees’ Association personally supervising amateur women’s league matches. His presence alone brought balance and dignity to the games. Against the odds, we secured promotion. It was a tough battle, but fair officiating helped us cross the line. Coach Tella himself congratulated the girls—a rare gesture from a tough man.
Our relationship blossomed from that moment. After NITO Queens earned promotion into the Women’s Professional League, we became close allies. Whether during Nigeria Football Federation (NFF) congresses, meetings, or backdoor political discussions about football leadership, Tade and I would often connect. He even travelled to Ibadan more than once to watch my team play—offering support not as a referee, but as a friend.
Part of our closeness also stemmed from our mutual connection to Oba James Odeniran, the Chairman of the Oyo State Football Association. Like Tade, Oba Odeniran is a former FIFA referee and a personal friend. The bond between Tade and Oba Odeniran was like that of twin brothers—inseparable. And by extension, it tied me to Tade in many ways beyond football.
Today, Nigerian football mourns not just a referee, but a voice of reason and a disciplinarian. His death is a painful reminder of how fleeting life is. But even in death, Tade Azeez leaves behind a towering legacy—of fairness, passion, loyalty, and excellence in football officiating.
May the Almighty grant his family the strength to bear this irreplaceable loss. And may Tade’s soul find eternal rest, wrapped in the warmth of the divine whistle that only angels blow.
