Naked oath-taking picture and the question of press freedom in Nigeria

On June 29, the Compass Newspaper published an article reporting that some members of the Ogun State House of Assembly, Southwest Nigeria, secretly took a blood oath to ensure unflinching unity in their bid to remove the governor of the State. Mr Wale Alausa, one of the members was shown nude, taking the blood oath and the photograph was published on the front page of the Nigerian Compass. This has expectedly generated a lot of comments. The comments are about the social disdain for blood oath, power thirst and political intrigues.

What worries one about the story is none of those issues. Rather it is question of the freedom of the press in a democracy like Nigeria. Is the Nigerian press truly free in this democracy—freer than it was during military regimes? By some risky extrapolation, is the press really free in a democracy?

Siebert and his team in their seminal Four theories of the press assume a smooth transition from the authoritarian press system to the libertarian or social responsibility press system as a nation transits from autocracy to democracy. In fact, Anthony Olorunnisola in his book on the press in South Africa after apartheid describes as theoretical incongruent a situation where the press does not transit with the nation. But it appears that the Siebert et al’s definition of press freedom was influenced by the context of physical violent harassment and military oppression against the exercise of the professional rights of the journalist.

Current events in Nigeria and in some other African democracy (eg. Kenya and Uganda) show that the absence of physical harassment and military oppression, and transition to democracy do not truly expand the elbowroom with which the journalist practises his trade. This is not a new finding. Again Olorunnisola warned that the press may simply transit from being controlled by government to being controlled by the wealthy especially advertisers.
Back to Ogun State, Nigeria. I interacted with a staff of the newspaper that published the nude photograph of the lawmaker from Ogun State. The paper is owned by the governor of the state, and the lawmaker was one of those allegedly intending to impeach the governor. It is clear where the paper belongs in the controversy between the governor and the lawmakers. My friend told me he was truly ashamed that the paper published such an offensive photograph, and that the paper has become an instrument in the hands of the governor in the ensuing battle. He believed that the picture was distasteful and could invite disaffection from readers. He said it violated ethical standards; it was wrong. But why then was it used? My friend’s answer boils down to this: it puts bread on the table.

Is the press free in a democracy? My friend feels it is not. The enemy of press freedom in a democracy is only different from, it is not less vicious than, the enemy in a military regime. And the enemy is NOT the commercial advertiser. My friend felt that if any staff of the paper refused to do the bidding of the governor—the owner of the paper—such person’s job was up for grabs. There is a fast growing trend of establishment of newspapers by politicians in Nigeria. In fact, about 90% of existing Nigerian newspapers are owned by serving governors, legislators and active political heavyweights. These ones dictate what the average Nigerian knows through the papers. Is the press freer in a democracy? I am truly worried.

The ban on radio review of newspapers in Nigeria: five months after

In December 2008, the Broadcasting Organisation of Nigeria (BON) and the Nigeria Publishers Association (NPA) had a meeting during which they announced a ban on the review of newspapers by radio and television stations in Nigeria. Their reason was that the sale and readership of newspapers were being adversely affected by these reviews. They claimed that once people listened to the reviews, they no longer bought the papers; they felt they had heard everything the papers had to say from the reviews by radio and television.

That ban is five months old now and it may be premature to ask if it has increased the sale and readership of the papers. It is however not premature to ask if the broadcast stations are conforming to the ban. The answer is ‘no’. Rather than cancel newspapers review programmes, stations have found ways of reviewing the papers without calling it a review and running foul of the ban. The stations still review the papers but do not refer to their programmes by such names as they used to do. Names such as Today in the papers; What the papers are saying; Inside the papers and Koko inu iwe irohin have since disappeared. What we now have is Daybreak gist; Review; or Have you heard? Not only this, reviewers no longer mention the newspapers they are reviewing nor refer viewers and listeners to the pages from which stories have been picked. Every direct or remote reference to the newspapers is avoided. In addition to this, some reviews are now spiced with local gossips and reports.

This raises a number of issues. NPA and BON based their ban on the review programmes on emotional economics, not on facts and figures. There were no studies or statistics to show that readership and sales of the papers were related to radio and television review of the papers. In fact some have claimed that the reviews encouraged them to buy the papers.

Secondly, the laws, policies and promulgations in Nigeria are ‘an ass’. They are mute and lame in most cases. That is why it is easy for broadcasters to freely sidetrack the ban. That is why months after the National Assembly banned public ‘spraying’ of the naira, the practice still continues and is publicised on the Nigerian Television Authority (NTA) in its weekly Newsline. In Nigeria, the law is an ass especially when the violator is rich, powerful and well connected. That is why the National Broadcasting Commission turns a blind eye on the excesses of some stations (such as Silverbird) and hammers others (such as AIT and Channels).

Third, broadcasting in Nigeria is really a business venture wholly in the hands of entrepreneurs. The newspaper review programmes are among the most heavily sponsored programmes. Most stations cannot immediately discontinue these programmes because sponsors have paid for the whole quarter. Even government-owned stations cannot run like public service stations because the government has asked them to become profit-oriented. It matters little whether or not a programme is injurious. What matters is the availability of sponsorship.

The ban on newspaper review programmes may have succeeded in bringing to play the Nigerian ingenuity when it comes to interpreting, manipulating and sidetracking a ban, a policy or law. It has also shown that broadcast stations would go to any extent to please sponsors. In addition to all of this, it has shown our total disregard for scientific research as a basis for individual and corporate decision-making. Just as they did not conduct any research before banning review programmes, BON and NPA will most likely not commission any research to find out if their ban has influenced newspaper readership and sales in any direction even five years after the ban. It is Nigeria.

Campus radio licenses: a diversionary tool in Nigeria

Since Nigeria returned to ‘democracy’ in 1999, advocates of community radio broadcasting in Nigeria, led by the Institute for Media and Society (IMS) in Lagos, have intensified their call for the approval of community radio in Nigeria. They asked for a separate licensing regime for community radio. Their argument was that if a community intending to own a radio station is made to pay the millions that commercial broadcasters pay, the station would be under the control of a few rich people in that community, and thus would not be radio stations owned, staffed and run by the community. Getting a ‘democratic’ government to approve community radio looked very simple: if democracy meant expansion of people’s access to communication, not just as receivers but also as message makers, deregulating the airwaves should be one of the steps a democratic government should first take. Not only this, if the military deregulated the airwaves partially in 1992 by allowing commercial broadcasting, a democratic government should need little or no persuasion to approve the third tier of broadcasting—the most people-oriented tier.
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But the advocates were mistaken. Nine years after democracy, Nigeria still doesn’t possess a single community radio station. It is the only West African nation without a community radio station. The excuse has been that a community radio station could be used to fuel ethnic and religious animosity in the volatile Nigerian context.
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Advocates have tackled this headlong persuading government, lobbying lawmakers and enlightening the society. Backed by international organisations (especially Panos Institute West Africa and Association Mondiale des Radiodiffuseurs Communautaires, AMARC), advocates selected six sites for potential community radio stations and trained potential radio workers. They got the ears of Silas Yisa, the Director of the National Broadcasting Commission (NBC), the body that regulates broadcasting in Nigeria, and the sympathy of the then Minister of Information. A panel set up by government (led by the eminent professor of communication, Alfred Opubor) submitted a report emphasising the desirability and mapping the policy for community radio broadcasting in Nigeria. At a point, the advocates could almost fix a date that the government would release a white paper on community broadcasting.
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Then came the bang: government announced the release of eight radio licenses, not to communities but to university campuses! Advocates were for a while confused and divided. Some called for celebrations, others for a protest. “Is a community radio the same as a campus radio?” A campus radio speaks English, and serves an elite community. English is understood by less than 50% of Nigerians. The advocates decided that they had not got what they asked for. They wanted community stations not campus stations. A campus station was not a community station, they explained. But it was too late for Mr Obasanjo to listen. His obsessive scheming for an unconstitutional third term which, when it failed, was followed by his efforts to ensure that his party won the elections ‘at all costs’. That brought all governance to a standstill. Advocates lost audience with a government interested in only one thing: power.
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Yar’Adua succeeded Obasanjo and has proved to be as much opposed to civic-centred democracy as Obasanjo was. (Recall his meddling with the Electoral Reform Committee report). Advocates picked up and mended the debris of their advocacy and approached Yar’Adua afresh. But again, two weeks ago, government announced the approval of broadcasting licenses to 18 campuses—including several that did not apply for any license. This brings the total number of campus radio to 27 in Nigeria. Again, the community radio coalition is asking questions. Campus radio licenses have become a weapon to divert the attention of community radio advocates from their goal. It is a diversionary tool.
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It is not clear why a democratic government should be opposed to giving people a voice. The present arrangement leaves the majority of Nigerians without a voice of theirs. No known democracy theory can explain it. But again, this is Nigeria. (AND IF I FEED THIS BLOG SO IRREGULARLY, IT IS BECAUSE I AM BACK HOME IN NIGERIA. I APOLOGISE TO MY READERS.)

Einstein, the Nigerian press & the 'witch' kids of Akwa Ibom

Last week, Reuben Abati did an indicting opinion in his column in the Nigerian Guardian on the gruesome treatment meted out on 'witch' children in Akwa Ibom, Nigeria. These kids were declared 'witches' by their parents' "pastors". They were driven out of their homes by the parents; some were bathed with hot soda; others had nails driven into their skulls; yet others were quickly murdered by their parents and the community. All these went on for years and no one seemed to notice until Channel 4, UK, did a report on them in November this year. The report brought the Nigerian government into ridicule.

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Many people have commented on this and have roundly condemned the government, the parents, the cultural milleu that permitted such evil and the religious liars that brainwash(ed) the parents. But none has said a thing about the press. When all these were going on for years, where was the Nigerian press? Akwa Ibom hosts a number of newspapers, television and radio stations. What did these do about these indescribably evil practice? Albert Einstein says:

the world is a dangerous place to live;

not because of the people who are evil,

but because of the people who don't do anything about it.

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As soon as Channel 4 released its documentary in November and local press picked up the matter, the government of Akwa Ibom began the review of the Child Rights Act. Today, the Act has been sharpened well enough to be used to prosecute these heartless groups, parents and pastors. Imagine if the Nigerian press did their job of surveillance of the environment well enough, and raised this issue to public consciousness two to three years ago. Quite a number of kids would have escaped this crude inquisition and trial by ordeal. One of the perptrators, a self-styled bishop confessed to having killed 110 witch children. But then he said he 'killed' the witches in them, not (just?) the kids. He is explaining this to the police. Einstein's words haunt me:

The world is a dangerous place to live;

not because of the people who are evil,

but because of the people who don't do anything about it.

Back to Fashola, Ekpu & the nature of news

"Bad news sells". "Bad news is good news". We have all heard this many times. But really what does a preponderance of bad news do to a people? Or to the press itself? I engage this question in the Nigerian context as I respond to criticisms mounted against Governor Raji Fashola of Lagos who recently pleaded with media people to be more positive in their news writing. My thoughts were published in the Guardian newspaper of October 16, 2008. Click here to read the article.

At last, Masaba gets a name…a lesson in news writing

Mallam Bello Abubakar Masaba Bida has been in the news since the first half of August 2008. Yet, until the end of September, he was never referred to in the headlines by his name. Rather, he was known by all the papers as “man with 86 wives”. Common headlines: “Man with 86 wives dares JNI” “Etsu gives man with 86 wives 48 hours to divorce 82” “’Your safety is not guaranteed’ Man with 86 wives warned” etc. In casting headlines, editors and sub desks are warned to opt for the shorter and the catchier. Why did Nigerian editors opt for the long-winding description? Louise Bourgault in her book Mass media in sub-Sahara Africa criticizes African radio and TV interviewers for preferring long and winding questions to short and punchy ones. She even mocks them for causing interviewers to fall asleep during interviews. I disagree with Bourgault, not only on this point, but also because the whole book smacks of Western triumphalism. But that is slightly out of my concern here.

News writing students are taught to append a description or an appellation to the name of an actor when they write the lead of a story if the actor is not prominent. The appended description brings the actor within the readers’ frame of reference and makes a piece more comprehensible. For instance, it is better to say, “Henry Bida, a sergeant in the Nigerian Army has been honored for his bravery…” than to say “Henry Bida has been honored for his bravery”. The latter lead keeps the reader wondering who the Henry is because Henry is not prominent. If it is a known person, for instance, Umar Musa Yar’adua, no description needs be appended.

Not many people knew Masaba. It was therefore understandable that editors chose to describe him by his unusual feat. But why did this last so long? Why did it take Nigerian editors almost two months of consistent reporting to give Masaba a face and a name? My guess: ascending Masaba’s act above his name would sell the story. Even if it makes the headline clumsy, the story would sell, and for many editors, only that matters. But the sad consequence of this is that, to many readers, Masaba has come to be not a human being, but a bizarre creature without a name. He is not one of us so he cannot be sympathized with or understood. And are the courts not treating him like that? Maybe that is why rejoinders and letters to the editors that are sympathetic to Masaba are very few. And maybe that is why his case is being championed only by “a coalition of northern human rights group”, and this coming about six weeks after his ordeal began.

However Masaba’s case ends, whether in his death with which some have threatened him, in jail or in freedom, Nigerian editors should know that, remotely or not, they robbed the man of his human face.

This article was published in Thisday (Monday, October 13, 2008)

Channels TV Closure: if it were FCC...

In the news in the last few weeks was the brush between National Broadcasting Commission and the state security services on one hand, and Channels TV and the News Agency of Nigeria (NAN) on the other. The matter has ended and Nigerians are forgetting it. I imagined what the US version of NBC would have done if Channels' sin was committed in America. I also recommended a major restructuring which could be a lasting solution to the continuous abuse of power by the NBC. My thoughts were published in the Thisday edition of Friday September 26. Click here to read more.

Ever heard of a nude radio advert

Nigerians--are we ever tired of creating new things? A religious leader recently asked the federal government to ban all nude adverts on the Nigerian newspapers, magazines, TV and radio. I have been wondering how a radio advert can be nude. I assume my ears aren't working as well my eyes. That's why I see nudity but don't hear it.