Nicholas Ibekwe is the journalist who
published the audio recording of T.B
Joshua offering N50k to journalist to give
his church favorable coverage (read
here ). He took to his blog today to
explain why he did it. Find it below
The last 72 hours were probably the
most intense in my life. The love,
kind words and support I’ve
received in that period from,
mostly, total strangers have been
overwhelming. I want to thank
everybody who saw the good in
what I did. Though, to be honest, I
think it was a little stupid. What was
I thinking putting my life and
probably my career on the line in
an attempt to change something so
entrenched it seems
unchangeable? But really I’m not
fazed by the trash talk from those
allergic to the truth.
It’s a long time coming and someone has
to put the Big Ben on the fat cat, I guess.
During the same period I’ve also been
insulted like never before. I’ve been
called the most uncomplimentary names
and all the curses in Deuteronomy hurled
towards me. They should be ashamed
that the brushed ego of their spiritual
Godfather meant more to them than the
over 90 lives that perished under the
rubble.
I can deal with the trash talk and name-
calling. But I’m also not naïve. I’ve made
plans to evacuate my family to safety at
the shortest notice in case things escalate.
I hope they don’t. But one can never be
so sure with these fundamentalists.
They said I’m an attention freak; that I
published the audio clip because I
yearned to be a social media celebrity
(whatever that means). Well, I won’t lie; I
enjoyed the 15 minutes of fame. I loved
the thrill of being in the eye of the storm.
In case my accusers are reading this, I got
over 2,000 followers on twitter within the
period. I don’t know what to make of that
yet. I’m not so sure about this Twitter
thing but if there’s a way I can convert
that to money, that would be something.
Gbenga Olorunpomi, how much does one
twitter follower exchange for a dollar
these days?
So why did I publish the audio?
I had recorded the audio six days before
posting it on Twitter. To be sincere, I
didn’t think much of it
until Saturday morning (I’d explain later).
I was intently watching the way the
collapsed building was being played out
in the media after the rather
disappointing way Lagos State Governor,
Babatunde Fashola, dodged reporters
through a back door after his private
meeting with TB Joshua on September 14.
I observed that Nigerian media were
being too gentle on TB Joshua despite the
glaring irregularities surrounding the
collapse. I read more reports about the
“hovering craft” and how Boko Haram
could’ve sabotaged the building and
other poppycock the televangelist wanted
the world to believe.
Very little was reported about the
structural defects of the building. Not
much was written about the fact that the
building originally had 2 floors and was
being illegally refurbished with 4
additional floors when it collapsed. We
didn’t come hard on the Synagogue
Church goons who attacked first
responders. We didn’t highlight the fact
that many of those that perished could
have been saved if NEMA officials weren’t
barred from the site for almost three
days! We didn’t make an issue of the fact
that our colleagues who had gone to
report the collapsed building were
molested on Saturday.
So when I woke up last Saturday morning
and saw the picture of Jonathan shaking
hands with a grinning TB Joshua with
headlines like “Jonathan consoles TB
Joshua,” I said damn it! I couldn’t
stomach this blatant impunity.
TB Joshua is perhaps the most powerful
preacher in Africa and politicians all over
the continent fawn at him. But as
watchdogs, journalists must hold
entrenched powers to account. If Nigerian
politicians didn’t realise that more than
90 lives had just perished underneath a
building without requisite permit and that
those responsible should be held
accountable, then the responsibility falls
on journalists to force them to do the
right thing.
Journalists shouldn’t be seen or heard
telling the prime suspect they would write
“just like you said” after he offered to buy
their consciences with N50,000.
Some of the reporters who collected the
N50,000 have called me after the audio
went viral to complain. They told me they
have been getting calls from colleagues
and family members who recognised their
voices in the recording. One even accused
me of a breach of trust. I told him I didn’t
sign a pact of silence with anybody. For
me the decision was between covering the
ethical shortcomings of my colleagues or
doing that which is right to make sure
those who died and their families get
justice. The decision was easy.
Why didn’t I publish the audio the same
day I recorded it? Nigerian journalists
habitually ask for gratification at press
conferences and corporate events that it
has unfortunately become a norm.
Reporters actually think you’re a fool if
you turned down what they call “brown
envelope”. There are several excuses to
justify it: “We’re poorly paid,” “We have
not been paid for months,” etc. Honestly,
it’s hard to dismiss some of these excuses
sometimes. Nigerian Journalists are
perhaps among the worst paid in the
world. This is where the Nigerian Union of
Journalist should do more. Its officials
should stop paying courtesy calls to
politicians (of course, we know what
exchanges hands during these visits) and
do more to force Jet-flying owners of
media organisations to pay reporters
more and on time. We deserve it.
Journalists should also explore other
related and legitimate means of making
money like researching, writing and
editing reports for NGOs, writing and
editing of brochures and reports, working
as fixers to foreign journalists, blogging (I
recently met a Nigerian television reporter
that make quite some money monthly
from his blog), etc.
Like everything in Nigeria, this “brown
envelope” thing has been stretched
beyond the limit of ridiculousness. I’d
give some examples: On August 15, 2010
a truck belonging to Dangote Sugar
Refinery caused an inferno at the Ojodu
Bridge outside Otedola Estate in Lagos.
More that 50 lives perished in the fire. An
inquest was initiated by a non-
governmental organisation, Access to
Justice and Human Rights lawyer, Femi
Falana. Please take a deep breath before
reading the next sentence. During the
inquest, officials of Dangote Industries
distributed cartons of Spaghetti (and
some money, probably to buy ingredients)
to court reporters at the Ikeja High Court
to probably skew their account of the
hearing. In case you missed it let me
repeat. Some Nigerian Journalists
collected packs of Spaghetti as bribes! Are
we that hungry? Some reporters got as
little as 12 packs of spaghetti. My friend,
Ben Ezeamalu, was almost beaten up for
speaking against it.
In fact, they erected a wall of hostility
around themselves whenever he came
around. According to him, a very senior
journalist pulled him aside and told him it
was easy for him to turn down the brown
envelope because he wasn’t married and
had no school fees to pay.
Ben said his curiosity was aroused while
he was researching for material on the
internet for an article he was writing days
before the coroner’s verdict on the
inquest. To his surprise, there was very
little material for an inquest that involved
Africa’s richest man and had lasted 19
months! After the coroner delivered his
verdict, in which he indicted Dangote’s
company as well as the Nigeria Police, the
(short) article was tucked away in a
remote corner in almost all the
newspapers the next day. The fact that
the coroner indicted Dangote was also
carefully left out in the articles.
Other journalists have tagged Ben “a spy”
for consistently refusing to collect “brown
envelopes”.
Nigerian journalists no longer know
where to draw the line. A father that lost
his son during last Dana plane crash was
forced to pay journalists during his son’s
wake-keep before it was reported. There
are more puke-inducing instances but I’d
stop here.
For those of you saying N50,000 ($300)
was too little to entice Nigerian reporters,
I’ve seen reporters scuffle over N2,000
($12) during a press conference.
During last year’s gubernatorial election
in Ondo State, reporters literally came to
blows at Governor Mimiko’s home after
the latter released “appreciation money”
for journalists who covered his polling
unit. The sharing formula was N10,000
per head, until the cash ran low and the
formula switched to N7,000. Cue bedlam.
The governor’s PA, looking on with
contempt, threatened to evict them from
his employer’s residence if they failed to
conduct themselves with decorum. One
fellow even started arranging for another
group of journalists to go meet the
governor for another “appreciation
money.”
Editors should also monitor their
reporters too, but we all know that some
editors get theirs through subtler manner
(Bank transfers). I’m a Nigerian journalist
I want to change things the only way I
know how to – going public with it. I’m
not saying anything new here, everybody
who has one thing or the other to do with
journalists knows that these things
happen. Maybe I’m the first journalist to
go public with it in such a manner.
Corporate organisations and individuals
should also stop offering these bribes (I
still insist that they are bribes and
nothing else). Journalist will report your
events whether they like it or not. They
want to stay in business. My heart skips
anytime I get a call from my editor or
receive that email with a subject that
reads: “Pending stories”. I know I’m
required to deliver. I don’t need that
“brown envelope” to turn around that
copy. I know in the Punch for instance,
reporters are required to fill a certain
number of pages every week. They can’t
sit around waiting for “money to fuel your
cars” to write stories to fill those pages.
The threat of losing one of the most
lucrative jobs in the industry is enough
“inducement”. But the truth is most
pressers aren’t news worthy so PR
officials feel they need to induce reporters
to write about them.
And for the fundamentalist followers of
TB Joshua, this isn’t about your spiritual
Godfather. I would still have gone public
with this if the Pope was involved. I can’t
say I’m sorry that his ego was bruised. He
clearly meant for the money to influence
the reporting of the event. “So what are
you going to write?” He had asked. That
makes it a bribe. Simple. I can’t help you
if you couldn’t decipher that. I’m a
reporter not a brain surgeon.
This is the last I’m going to say on this
issue unless something drastic happens.
Let the personal attacks continue.
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