•My experience with Adedibu and Oro cult
TRIBUNE
My career as a Tribune journalist was more fortuitous than a happenstance. A reporter-friend casually dropped the information near me at a time my Ogun State origin was proving a major impediment to my joining the Broadcasting Corporation of Oyo State (BCOS) as I had desperately desired. I applied, went through the recruitment process, and got the Tribune job on merit like all others who joined with me.
I became a member of the Imalefalaafia School of Journalism, as the Tribune is fondly addressed, on Monday, February 10, 1992. For the next 12 years, I was there, and, at different times, functioned as reporter, senior reporter, Deputy News Editor, Assistant Editor and Deputy Editor. Then, I left in 2004 to join the public relations team of Nigeria’s pride in telecommunications, Globacom.
Working as a journalist in the Nigerian Tribune was an experience in corporate love, support for staff and protection of the workforce. I worked in an institution and under editors who would send you on an assignment and stand by you if you ran into trouble. The Yoruba would describe such as oranmonise f’ayati.
I have two or three experiences to recall here.
So soon after I joined the company, I was assigned to be covering the Oyo State Governor’s Office. It is a beat that is traditionally not for a green-horn, and I wasn’t. As a youth corps member, I had a reportorial stint at a newspaper in Enugu, and earlier, as an intern at the BCOS, Ibadan.
Covering any Governor’s Office in Nigeria is a beat where a reporter could easily get into trouble. And, you can be in a mess even if you were right. Your story could be true and factual yet unacceptable to the powers that be. That exactly was what I encountered.
The annulment of the June 12, 1993 election marked a turning point in Nigeria’s history, casting a long shadow over its political landscape. The annulment intensified ethnic and regional divisions, sowing seeds of distrust that would haunt the country for decades to come. Some governors were apprehensive of what their fate would be under the military-backed Interim National Government set up by General Ibrahim Babangida. The governors began to talk in muffled speeches which were contrary to the people’s yearning for the restoration of the outcome of the election. Some other political players who were with Chief Abiola broke away, forming curious alliances with the military and its Interim National Government.
It was during that period, at a public event, that late Governor Kolapo Ishola of Oyo State disappointingly appealed to protesters to accept the annulment as a will of God and support the new military-backed dispensation.
I, of course, reported what he said as he said it. It came out with a screaming headline on the front page the following day. The un-doctored reportage irked the state government so badly that I was summarily dismissed from the Governor’s Press Corps. The governor and his handlers saw me as a hot-headed young reporter who had yet to master the art of ‘managing’ the truth. But I saw myself simply as just a reporter who wanted to report the truth and nothing else.
The government requested the authorities of the Nigerian Tribune to send another reporter in my stead to cover the beat. My newspaper stood solidly with me and my reportage. It told the Oyo State government that it was either Modupe Asenuga or no one else for that beat. Tribune went further. It blacked out all activities of the state government in all its publications. This dragged on for about three months until the government saw that the hard stance meant a frosty relationship with a newspaper that would be discountenanced at the government’s peril. I was eventually reinstated. It was a victory for me, for Tribune and for ethical journalism. I can not forget.
I relate another nasty experience at which the Tribune stood by me, its poor reporter.
My Adedibu experience
A day after General Abacha’s death on June 8, 1998, my editor assigned me and Oladipo Adelowo, a junior but very resourceful hand, and Alaba Igbaroola, an in-house excellent photographer, to interview the strongman of Ibadan politics, Alhaji Lamidi Adedibu who had crossed carpet and aligned with Abacha to the chagrin of majority in the South West.
My questions turned out to be very uncomfortable for the interviewee. The expansive front court of his Molete political base became a hot cage for me and my colleagues. Baba Adedibu’s courtiers got infuriated by my effrontery to ask their benefactor questions which they thought were too audacious. They formed an angry ring round me and my colleagues. Because I was the one throwing the darts, they threatened to kill and make sure my corpse’s whereabouts remained a mystery forever. None of them seemed to give a hoot about my obvious baby bump! They had, of course, snatched the midget recorder from me. Alhaji Adedibu simply sat there, watched the drama with some smiles on his face. Then he offered us money for the snatched recorder. I turned down the offer. I said I wanted my recorder with the cassette! The crisis was about getting really out of hand when somehow, Tribune House got to know about the trouble we were in. We were set free. The strongman was made to apologise. It is impossible to forget.
Encounter with Oro cult
I had another near-nasty experience. After General Sani Abacha took over on November 17, 1993, he hacked down all democratic structures, and sacked the governors. Then he brought in military administrators. I thus had to report the activities of the government of Admiral Adetoye Shode, a fine gentleman with whom we regularly visited the Naval Command in Lagos. We were on tour of Oyo State with Admiral Shode one day when I had an encounter which could have been fatal if God hadn’t intervened. We got to Oyo town on the tour and met the streets empty. This unusual occurrence did not strike any chord in anyone as we drove in the usual long convoy into the palace arena which we had visited a zillion times under the previous governor. I was following the other members of the crew into Alaafin’s inner courts when one of the security details attached to the administrator rushed out and bundled me back into the press crew bus. Chief Mrs. Mubo Laoye, the Commissioner for Education was similar rushed by security aides into her official car. One of them removed his suit and covered my head with it while he stayed by the bus to ensure the town’s youngsters who were in great number in the palace did not molest me.
I was confused. I wondered what the furore was all about. Then, to my horror, I was informed that the Alaafin was in court with members of the dreaded Oro Cult! I am an Ijebu Yoruba, I understand the full import of Oro and a woman being in their presence. My office got to know of this incident before I got there. I met everyone worried – and relieved when they saw me in one piece. I was on the beat until May 1995 when I voluntarily sought permission to attend to motherly duties. My colleague, Lasisi Olagunju, took over that beat from me when he joined the Tribune family that month.
Tribune and its PhDs
The Nigerian Tribune where I worked is a stable that never got intimidated by its staff’s quest for academic and professional laurels. In fact, when I gained admission for my first Master’s degree in 1994, the Tribune management approved a grant for me which covered my tuition. My boss, Mr. Biodun Oduwole, would, at intervals, ask about my progress in my studies. I obtained a second Master’s degree in Managerial Psychology a few years after. It is thus, no surprise to me that Tribune of today houses more PhDs than some university faculties.
I worked with editors who actively sought for training opportunities for their staff. The icing on the cake of most outstanding careers in journalism was fellowships and trainings from international and local organisations. I soon began to enjoy the benefits of such openings when my then Editor, Mr. Abiodun Raufu, an Alfred Friendly fellow just like Messrs. Biodun Oduwole, Victor Oluwadamilare and Bode Opeseitan, introduced me to the world of fellowships. The first of them was Reuters which trained me twice, first in Writing International News in 2000 and Managing Journalists in 2001. Both trainings were held at the Rhodes University, Grahamstown, South Africa. Next came the American grant-awarding, Social Science Research Council which took about 20 young academics and reporters to Senegal and then Cape Town, South Africa. That was one fellowship that was comprehensively rewarding.
For five years from 1999 to 2004, I ran a social commentary column christened ‘Between Us’. Writing columns easily get journalists on the toes of the powerful. I ran into trouble with that column on more than one occasion. And, on each of those occasions, the system did not disown me. I always had my bosses’ back, because I was right.
One consistent thing about the Tribune was its fastidious trust in its staff. The authorities would stand with its journalists to redress any injustice or injury without looking back. I have my bosses, particularly, Messrs. Oduwole, Folu Olamiti, Akin Onipede, Laolu Akande and Abiodun Raufu to thank for the strong, resourceful and daring journalist that I became. They were the breeze underneath my wings; they were the giants on whose shoulders I stood.
It is so pleasant, nostalgic and euphoric to celebrate with an institution that trained one. I join all Tribune alumni, home and abroad, to say Happy 75th anniversary.
Long live Tribune!
Modupe Olubanjo now works as Senior Manager, Public Relations with telecommunications giant, Globacom.
THIS ARTICLE FIRST APPEARED IN TRIBUNE
