When I was invited to revive Nigeria’s iconic newspaper, the Daily Times, sometime in 2015, one oldbreed journalist worked with me as a sub editor. It’s been long that we lost contact, so pardon me for failing to identify him by name.
Quiet, gracious and generally self-effasing, he was clearly not just another member of the production crew. From his deft handling of reports, I knew that he had seen it all in the profession. One day, I invited him into my office for a chat. I told him that I would be moving him to the political desk as Deputy Editor.
Politely, but firmly, he turned down the offer. He insisted that he wished to be left alone as a sub editor. That was quite strange to me, knowing how many others in his shoes would jump at the offer. He took a deep breath and told me a part of his life that he had hoped would not be revealed.
He used to be editor of a newspaper in Abuja. On one of those days during the Sani Abacha days, one of his reporters submitted a report about a stupendous wealthy convict who was being being escorted home every night by prison officials and back to prison at dawn every day. Sometime later, the convict’s wife became pregnant and delivered a baby. The reporter got the photograph of the convict and two prison officials drinking beer and making merry at the naming of the baby.
No sane editor will throw away that kind of juicy story. My man obtained certified true copy of the court judgement that sentenced the rich man to jail. He contacted the spokesman of the Nigerian Prison Service for reaction. The spokesman promised to look into the allegation but never got back to the editor.
My man splashed the story on the front page of his newspaper. One week, two weeks, nothing happened. Heads did not roll. Police authorities did not respond. Nor did the Federal Military government. Six months down the line, my man heard nothing from nobody. He shrugged his shoulders and continued to do his job as a newspaperman. About one year after, he received a call from the Police to come for an exclusive interview with the outgoing Commissioner of Police in Abuja. Did I mention that my man’s newspaper was based in Abuja? Yes, it was. My man was quite well known in the right quarters in the Federal Capital Territory (FCT). He obliged.
On arrival, he was confronted with — wonder of all wonders — a copy of his newspapers publication of over one year. “Why did you embarrass our government with that kind of publication? Who are your sponsors, you this disgruntled element? They question him on end. From the Police headquarters, he was transferred to the Directorate of State Security (DSS). From there, my man began a journey into the night. He spent about one and a half years without trial in the DSS detention and did not breathe the air of freedom until Abdulsalami Abubakar became Head of State. “My publisher fled the country as his life was also not safe. The newspaper collapsed. Nobody was interested in whether the report was true or not. All they cared about was the image of the government. My family suffered greatly.
Upon gaining freedom, I vowed never to touch journalism again and, if I failed to gain good employment and found myself in journalism, I would have no belive, no field work, no editor’s job; just proof-read and go home, he said.
To date, I am certain that the report was never investigated; at least not for the purpose of rooting out bad elements in the Nigeria Prison Service.
Bobrisky is not the only well-heeled Nigerian to enjoy five-star hotel accommodation as a convict. You only need to have godfather.
