*Journalism is madness best unleashed in youth

By Ikeddy ISIGUZO, Chairman, Editorial Board (2005-2015)

IT was in October 1983, well past midnight, when Chris Okojie and I missed our way in Isolo, close to School Village, where Governor Lateef Jakande had built a cluster of schools. We were on our way from dropping off Nduka Irabor.

What did we do? We parked under a tree, telling stories. Lagos was that safe then, and there were no street gates.

Chris told me he was leaving The Guardian, where I was happily earning President Shehu Usman Aliyu Shagari’s new monthly allowance of N200 for NYSC members. It was N180 before Shagari. 

Imagine Chris telling me in that state that he was leaving for Democrat and offered me a place once I finished service.

We were both drunk, I reminded Chris. I suggested that we should hold that conversation with clearer heads. We headed off a little after in a car we usually borrowed from his sister Carol.

Little did we know that two months after Maj-Gen Muhammadu Buhari would upturn Nigeria’s democratic rule, jail Nduka Irabor and TundeThompson, and abort the Democrat dream, as promoters of the publication fled on Buhari’s arrival.

Chris, about March 1984, told me that Uncle Sam was starting Vanguard and he was waiting for me to join him when my NYSC programme would end in August. He kept his word and the additional promise that I should employ the next staff on the Sports Desk when I joined.

So, Chris brought me to Vanguard and my promotion to Sports Editor in April 1986 happened when he became Deputy Editor. I became Deputy Editor of Vanguard when Chris left in late 1990. 

Chris and BizLaw, as we fondly called Uncle Bisi Lawrence, saved my journalism career. I had whispered to Chris that I was leaving Vanguard for a soft sell publication though I was to be announced Sports Editor in days.

BizLaw asked Chris to bring me to his place in Gaskiya, Ijora, which was well-known to us. Biz Law ran Ibi Tutu, a bar in the vicinity. He shut it down because people weren’t paying their bills. 

It took hours of long conversations and concerns to conclude the night – I won’t go. BizLaw didn’t believe me. Neither did Chris. BizLaw fetched a virgin bottle of Seagram from his room, insisting that I took a sip to confirm I would stay.

By the time we left BizLaw’s, the Seagram bottle was on the floor, drained to the last drop of its content. A few hours later, still nursing a niggling hangover, I was in Ibadan to cover the Nigerian University Games, NUGA, the highpoint of which I think was the University of Benin detaching Ahmadu Bello University from its 10-year hold on the men’s basketball title. A prominent member of the winning Benin side was Cairo Ojougboh, then a medical student. He became a prominent politician.

When BizLaw passed in November 2020, I paid my tribute, “Uncle BizLaw had impactful presence at Vanguard and beyond, in words, indeed and in deeds. His wordsmithery was inimitable. His columns milked moments without being momentary. We have lost one of the best raconteurs, with delivery doused in sobering timbres. May the Almighty rest him.’’

A lot of madness went into getting Vanguard on the streets. Only a few were there who did not drink, sip or gulp their beer. We were mostly single with few cares and fears. We prided ourselves in producing the best newspaper and the madness it entailed. I dare say, we did to a great extent. Many of us at Vanguard were from The Punch where I started my career in 1978 as Sports Reporter under the irrepressible Owolabi Ilori, whose Owo Blow column shook everywhere, weekly. At The Punch, I had Chuks Iloegbunam, who wrote a column for Vanguard from London, and Sonala Olumhense as mentees. 

Vanguard was a home-coming of sorts. When Chris took me to Uncle Sam, he told me Chris was the boss on the Sports Desk. “If he says you are good, you have a job”. I was thus hired.

I was not a pioneer staff as many believe. It is better to say I joined in the early days, in September 1984, clearly two months after the paper had been on the streets.

Each day was a new madness that ran on the wheels of youthful exuberance that Uncle Sam promoted by his frequent kindnesses that included paying for our quaffs at The Canal, Vanguard’s cafeteria, famous too for its bar, and the Monday lunches that followed our editorial meetings.

It was at one Monday meeting that Uncle Sam had a divergence of views with Chris. Some would call it an argument but it was a healthy, robust exchange about how we should proceed. “There are two things you cannot tell me anything about – women and journalism,” he told Chris.

In a recent conversation Uncle Sam said I had broken his records. “Which records? Uncle Sam,” I retorted. “You were so good, Sir, that nobody could keep pace with recording your expansive milestones, not to talk of breaking your records”. He laughed. He taught us well, especially that silences, subtleties, and substance were better measures of power than loudness. He actually has a tiny voice.

His participation in steadying editorial fidelity stretch to being an unofficial ombudsman. Dr Nnamdi Azikiwe’s “death” of November 1989 was an unmeasurable embarrassment to the entire Nigerian media. Days after we knew Zik was alive, the early editions of the paper, and the weekend copies that were produced days in advance, still had Zik dead.

“When next this Zik dies,” Uncle Sam said, “we would announce the first year remembrance”.

Uncle Sam one day declared that “double-names” were forbidden as byline. He said he was Sam Amuka. He was Sam Amuka-Pemu until that day. 

Tope Awe, again from The Punch, who flourished with his pioneer works in reporting Tourism, could have caused this policy. His byline had burgeoned to Ogbeni Temitope Awelewa. He had to revert to Tope Awe, though whenever Uncle Sam was within earshot, some of us would shout Ogbeni Temitope Awelewa. The owner of the name didn’t need to be around. 

We were jammed in a single space called the Newsroom until more accommodation was available for different sections. Mrs. Helen Ovbiagele, renowned author, English-French graduate of the University of Lagos, writer of several columns concurrently in Vanguard, in addition to her role as Woman Editor, minded her business away from the din of our youthfulness that brimmed the Newsroom.

I once asked her to hurry up with the typewriter. She ignored me. That must have been the apogee of my own madness. I am still apologising for that “effrontery”. Mrs Ovbiagele is 80 this year. This incident was in 1984.

On the Sports Desk, most of the work we did had Chris’ imprimatur. We bench-marked our efforts against what Sunny Ojeagbase, our boss at The Guardian, was doing. We learnt a lot under Mr. Ojeagbase, may the Almighty rest him. We took copies of Vanguard to various top sports personalities whose pictures we published as the latest readers of Vanguard.

The newspaper’s contents were better than what the competition offered and appealed to many across the audience spectrum. Crossword puzzles, cartoons from Kenny Adamson, Bayo Odunuga, Muyiwa Adetula, Captain Africa, Morak, Laobis Akalonu, Lawrence Akakpa, led the charge. Dada Adekola has sustained the tradition and ridden to fame, hopefully, fortune.

Great interviews, features, and news in all its genres were served. We used foreign pictures boldly. They came in weekly from our London office. We dedicated a full page to them. 

Kehinde Olashebikan, Sufuyan Ojeifo, Rotimi Ajayi, Emman Ujah, Ben Agande, Charles Ozoemena, Soni Daniel have kept the Abuja Office revving. 

Emma Amaize reported the Niger Delta in its most complex and conflagrated years. He generated a salience around the decadence of the region, promoting the pestilence of ill-regulated oil and gas production to a consistent national conversation which made many to dub Vanguard a South South newspaper. 

Vanguard’s wall calendar printed in London with models in variegated states of uncladding were in hot. Sesan Ogunro of Eminent Advertising produced them. The copies were never enough. 

A Supreme Court Justice pulled me aside at the National Stadium about 1987, alleging that I was in contempt. He wondered where I ranked Justices of the Supreme Court on the protocol list. Second, I said, right after the President, since the military had circumscribed parliament. He acknowledged that I answered well.

“Would there be a reason, then, why Justices of the Supreme Court do not get the Vanguard calendar?”. None, Sir. I was very relieved. The next day I sent him a copy that I prised from the Editor’s office and ensured that the Supreme Court was on the distribution list of the calendar, in perpetuity.

I have restricted this account to manage space. 

Jimi Disu’s Business Desk with Medline Tador, Austin Nkwocha, Terry Adewale, who worked often on supplements, shared another room with Features where Ely Obasi, mischievous smiles among other mischiefs, put the intellectual flows from Kayode Samuel, Uche Onyebadi, Joy Ege, Judith Okpeke and Eghosa Aimufua to good use either as features or foreign news. Egbosa found his soul mate, Tina on the Foreign Desk. Hugo Idigor came to the Foreign Desk later.

Stories were rife of dalliances. Some marriages emerged. If I ever write my memoirs, the matter would be further interrogated.

Business reporting took more wings under the care of Ademola Adedoyin, Lanre Alabi, Emeka Anaeto, Abdul Imoyo. Omoh Gabriel, as Business Editor was the only one I knew who Central Bank Governors took his calls. Hector Igbikiowubo expanded oil and gas reporting and birthed Vanguard Sweet Crude, a monthly publication. Ifeanyi Ugwuadu gave meaning to Insurance reporting. 

Tony Okonedo, Nkanu Egbe, Kunle Hamilton and Victor Omoregie were on the social circuit. Robbers once shot Nkanu on his way from a club. He is still alive.

Sam Ekeledo, Obi Nwakanma, McPhillips Nwachukwu, and John Nwaobi, Boy Josco, in Ken Saro-Wiwa’s television comedy, Basi and Company, were in the Arts. Sina Odugbemi – he had the frame of a light heavyweight boxer – led the Arts section. Pita Okute, one of the pioneers on the Arts Desk was interred on Friday 26 July 2024.

Hakeem Ukandu, fitted the big shoes that Fola Arogundade left on the Entertainment beat. Hakeem, Sam, and Ogbonnaya Amadi, all on that beat have passed.

Tunji Oyeleru, a highly-demanded photographer died in a motor accident with activist Chima Ubani on his way from reporting Labour’s protest in Maidugiri. Tunji’s pictures were as brilliant as his smiles. Slyva Eleanya, sports photographer, died, after an illness.

Sam Eferaro headed the Health Desk. Rachael Anyigbo was the Health reporter. She once copied an official letter on her laps in order to authenticate a story. Those who insisted on seeing the proof told me.

Our Correspondents in major cities were Abiodun Abodurin (Kano), Taiye Obateru (Jos), Alhaji Bolaji Kareem (Ibadan), Emeka Mamah (Enugu), Evans Osi (Port Harcourt), and Allen Edema (Benin City). Jide Kolade was to manage Ibadan with time. Eddie Ekpo oscillated between Lagos and Calabar.

A drama involving Edema is worth recounting. The Oba of Benin laid a curse on Edema over false allegations made against the Vanguard reporter. Edema fled to Lagos. Mallam Sani Zorro, President of the Nigeria Union of Journalists, led the delegation that convinced the Oba to lift the curse.

There was Monica Ivbijaro who got big interviews. I would not say how beautiful she is. Juliet Ume-Ezeoke did features. Dupe Singerr, Meme Lawrence, Gloria Ogunbadejo, Doyin Omololu, Dupe Alagbafuja, were some of our female columnists. Moranike Taire, Jemi Ekunkunbor joined later and have attained great heights.

KK Yope was a class apart. An astrologer, he kept people glued to their future, their stars, with the zodiac signs. His predictions had enough traction for copy sales.

Philo Tosan made crime reports a delightful read. She was the first reporter to buy a car, a light blue Volkswagen Beetle that was always overloaded and was frequently pushed to start.

Vanguard purchased a couple of Volkwagen Beetles as official cars. They were serially stolen whenever they were parked, to the last one. We later learnt that Beetle engines were in high demand to power boats.

We had a great Sports Desk which I left in 1991. The credit for the work goes to our leader Chris, Abimbola Akinloye, may the Almighty rest him, Onochie Anibeze, Eyobong Ita, Philip Ahante, Emma Epong, Emma Hueuse, Abu Acheneje and Chuks Ugwoke, who was a Commissioner for eight years in Enugu State. These days, I address him as the former almost Governor of Enugu State.

Tony Ubani, Patrick Omorodion, Tunde Oyedele, Eddie Akalonu, Ademola Olajire, Jacob Ajom, Joe Apu were in the team, later. 

BizLaw did a weekly column for us. The Desk has produced two Deputy Editors of Vanguard, two Saturday Editors of Vanguard, Chuks and Onochie. Our sports photographers were Ogunshola McJohn, Elijah, George Esiri, Wilson Bodise-Owei.

Baba Mutu, Francis Komolafe, kept the photos coming in. 

The computer age opened vistas for reporting that Okoh Aihe and Reuben Muoka, and Prince Osuagwu embraced  fully. It also helped with our productions. One of the the best hands at graphics with tech was Jide Babatunde. His work on Vanguard SportsNOW, our weekly sports publication, was outstanding.

Dr. Pat Utomi, one of our earliest columnists, heralded Pini Jason, Tony Momoh, Bisi Lawrence, Bunmi Sofola, Treena Kwenta, Obi Nwakanma, and many others and Aig-Imoukhuede. Some have passed on. When Dr. Utomi was rumoured to have died in a motor accident in Awka, he walked into Vanguard to tell us he survived. 

When people call Vanguard a family newspaper, they would not understand the profundity of that tag that advertisers think belongs to them. We were a family. We looked out for each other. We just wanted to earn our pips and pays in a setting devoid of the later rivalries and rancours. We wanted Vanguard to succeed. We wanted to prove that we made no mistakes in leaving established places for Vanguard. 

The family spirit was illustrated in many different ways that kept us focused on succeeding. Sam Okwaraji died on 12 August 1989. Vanguard was celebrated for breaking the news. It would have been impossible without the co-operation of the Production Department which Uncle Dada and Mr. Tom Anaduaka, elderly people, ran with elaborate efficiency, away from the glamour of bylines. Both were from The Punch.

Uncle Dada who was on duty told me that we were out of time and that I could not stop the press, only the Editor could. He however told me that I could if I signed a paper that I made the decision. Everyone on the Sports Desk got a letter of commendation and N50 each for that production from Toye Akiyode, at different times, State House and Airport Correspondent of The Punch. He succeeded Mr. Muyiwa Adetiba, Vanguard pioneer Editor, who Uncle Sam turned into a Super Star, getting him to travel round Nigeria, interviewing people. 

Agosco liked me a lot. He enrolled Chris and I in a weekly night outing that Fela’s lawyer Chief Kanmi Ishola-Osobu, a chieftian of National Party of Nigeria, NPN, hosted on the roof garden of his Ebute Metta law office. Great conversations, foods, drinks were in abundance. Chief Ishola-Osobu, away from the antics in court, was a very intelligent lawyer. He studied at the University of London. We called him the People’s Lawyer.

The second incident was when Chief MKO Abiola returned from exile in September 1993. Almost every reporter, every editor, was at the airport or Chief Abiola’s house to get stories, pictures, quotes. Remi Diagbare, Fashion Editor, was there, so was Funmi Komolafe, Labour Editor, who got an interview off Mrs. Kudirat Abiola as the convoy waded through the jammed streets to Abiola’s Ikeja home. The story had over 20 bylines, a reflection of the personal industry, enterprise, inclusiveness and dedication with which Vanguard operated.

It should be noted that the Labour Desk gave Africa International Trade Unions a Secretary-General in Owei Lakemfa, and Joe Ajaero, President of the Nigerian Labour Congress, NLC.

Vanguard alumni has prospered away from media roles. Alhaji Kareem in Ibadan was a Commissioner so was Kayode Samuel, who I learnt would have been a Governor but the political map excluded him. Foluke Marcus-Bello of the Advert Department was a Commissioner and later an Ambassador. Kehinde Bamigbetan, of Features Desk was a Local Government Chairman, and Commissioner, and one of those reputed to have the ears of the President. Buluma, a political writer from Borno was a Commissioner too. 

Mallam Ali M. Ali, current Managing Director of the News Agency of Nigeria, did his NYSC in Vanguard.

Richard Akinnola as the Commander-in-Chief of the Newsroom had a rambunctious bearing that drew extensively from his proclivities that rested on other things. He smoked, he out-drank me, but one of those who gave him a tough turf was Chuka Okonkwo, whose delayed reports could be retrieved in bits from The Canal as Chuka would keep shouting “last para”, for last paragraph. Let it be on record that most of such times, Chuka had not written even the first line of his report.

Chuka and Paul Nwosu who was Advert Manager, at a point, in Vanguard were my classmates at Institute of Management and Technology, Enugu, where Prof Onwuchekwa Jemie was our Head of Department and introduced us to Chiweizu, author of The West and the Rest of Us. Chiweizu co-authored Towards the Decolonisation of African Literature with Jemie and Ihechukwu Madubuihe. A list of more alumni from IMT include Taiwo Obe, Amuzie Akpaka, Senator Ayogu Eze, Goddy Nnadi, Bob Ogbuagu, Tony Onyima, Felix Abugu and Frank Aigbogun who was Vanguard’s third Editor. Chuddy Oduenyi, also Advert Manager, was from IMT and Emma Nnadozie who has spent decades reporting Crime was Chuddy’s classmate in IMT.

Newsroom management was also under Charles Chizea, Dapo Olufade, Omoregie’s partner in a shared passion of consuming snake meat. We had a reporter whose story, no matter the length, came in one sentence, with no punctuations, and a handwriting that matched the confusion. The reporter topped his craft with a phone call to inform Dapsy, “Editor I don wire am. The story is terrible”. We suspected he meant “terrific”.

The behind the scene staff were important. Chief Raph Ibiwoye was Vanguard’s pioneer General Manager. An accountant, who left The Punch with Uncle Sam, he was there before the beginning. He was accessible and the one I ran to when I thought my monthly N605 pay in September 1984 should have been more. He explained taxes and other deductions; Chris took me to him. Mr. Augustine Ihejieto, the pioneer Administration Manager, who signed my letter of appointment, was Uncle Sam’s Secretary at The Punch.

The vibrance of the Political Desk has swung with the tides and times. Mbadiwe Emelumba, Jossy Nkwocha, Ide Eguabor, Tunji Olawunmi, Kunle Oyatomi, Deba Uwadiae, Paul Odili, Jide Ajani have set the standards, high. 

Kehinde Olashebikan, Sufuyan Ojeifo, Rotimi Ajayi, Ben Agande, Charles Ozoemena, Soni Daniel have kept the Abuja Office revving. 

Vanguard was established to propagate a better society. Some ended up in detentions, others were threatened but we never wavered. I returned from work one day, in the heat of the June 12 struggles, to find the ceiling of the sitting room broken. Nothing was stolen. It seem that the mark was to tell me, “we know where you live” . My security man’s account was that a well dressed man who said he was a friend claimed he had a letter for me and would rather pin it on the door.

Uncle Sam asked if I wanted the house swept for bugs. I told him I would cherish living with their listening devices, if any. 

Uncle Sam placed the independence of Vanguard over money, important as it was to get things done. Mr. Adeoye Roluga, our first Advert Vanguard Manager was justifiably angry when a piece I wrote in 1985 so peeved a confectionery company that it pulled out its year’s run of advertisements worth N45,000, enough money to pay my salaries for six years! Uncle Sam’s decision was final: they can take their money. He agreed with what I wrote. The company never advertised with Vanguard until three years later. 

Agnes Otsemobor stepped in on Mr. Roluga’s departure and Flora Archibong was AGM Advert, when the branding of our events like the Banking Awards took off. Verdant Zeal was engaged for the creatives, marketing and direction.

Niran Malaolu, great guy on the Sub Desk, got us into challenges with headlines like. “IBB Is Wrong”. Biodun Azeez, Azu Akanwa, Femi Afolabi, Sunny Areh were great subs. Gbenga Adefaye, who became Editor, was from the Sub Desk that Alhaji Kola Animashaun was boss before heading the Editorial Board.

I succeeded Alhaji Animashaun on the Editorial Board where I rounded up my 27 years in Vanguard in 2015. Nnanna Ocherome became Chairman Editorial Board. I took a four-year break in 1994. On my return, Alhaji Femi Abass, Lanre Arogundade and Bolaji Sanusi were on the Editorial Board. They were some of the best people to work with. 

The appointments of Mideno Bayagbon and Eze Anaba as Editors have sustained a Vanguard tradition of grooming its staff to leadership. Kunle Adekoya has been Chief Sub, News Editor, Editor Saturday, and now Deputy Editor. Where else does access to such versatility exist? 

Personal development for staff is encouraged. Ephraim Oseji in 1998 joined as an Office Assistant, spent the first seven years dreaming of playing football in Germany. He now has a degree and can do almost anything, media. 

Vanguard has had a great first 40 years with all the turns and tumbles that mark small beginnings. The coming years need to be better in a harsh, competitive global market where there have been loud voices announcing the end of newspapers. 

I thank all those who have kept Vanguard going. My gratitude is intentional, perhaps, selfish. Your resilience has saved me from being an alumnus of a defunct newspaper. 

Finally, I assure Uncle Sam that his records of generosity, kind spirits, forbearance (who else lends newsprint, often not returned, to the competition) are too challenging. The records on journalism are simply unattainable. Women? With climate change, weather conditions that are more economic than often imagined, nobody will dare.

Congratulations, Vanguard. Thanks very much Uncle Sam for the memories and moments you gifted us, and the global village.