In Pursuit of Media Integrity: A Personal Journey Through the Storm

Femi Akintunde-Johnson

It started as a huff of desperation. Not quite a yell, certainly not a whisper. Somewhere in between the bafflement of what we call media professionalism in Nigeria and the deluge of slapdash communication posing as journalism. Since 2016, I have buried my head, sleeves rolled up, into media training. Not for the allure of titles, nor the epaulettes of digital righteousness, but simply because I could no longer stomach the rot.

 It wasn’t always like this. My sojourn through the corridors of Nigerian media began, like many others, in print. But I was too restless to be boxed within column inches. I strayed into radio in 1999, birthing FAJ-Alive on Eko FM – a one-hour issue-based talk show that quickly gathered fervent listeners. Then came television in 2015, same FAJ-Alive Talkshow concept but stretched into a two-hour magazine programme on Lagos Television (LTV). Still, something remained amiss. I needed to teach, to guide, to build, not merely speak. And so, at the Nigerian Institute of Journalism, Lagos, I found yet another dimension to my media sojourn – shaping minds at their formative stage. It felt noble. But not enough.

 The discontent was not just personal; it was systemic. I saw it in the lethargy of gatekeepers. I read it in the hurried grammar of press statements. I heard it in the echo chambers of false balance.

So, in 2016, we birthed the Network for Media Excellence (NME) – starting as a WhatsApp group, it soon grew into a think-tank of professionals lamenting, and occasionally laughing at, the media circus. We even had a physical meet once, trying to lace our digital affinity with some real-world camaraderie. But still, the impact felt like raindrops on corrugated roofing – noisy, fleeting, insufficient.

 Later that same year, we also launched a WhatsApp-based training model – Basic Clinic on Language Use, Speaking & Writing Skills – offering free classes in media law (with the venerable journalist-lawyer Richard Akinnola), public speaking (with Tokunbo Ojekunle), style (Kunle Hamilton), and Use of English (by yours truly). It was hard-going, tedious and typed in long, finger-stiffening stretches… but the trainees were many and enthusiastic.

 By January 2018, the effort matured into Intermediate, ‘Special’ and Advanced Skills classes, and later blossomed into a more structured hybrid format – combining online and physical trainings – under the banner of Basic Skills Academy (BSA). Here, participants contributed modest tokens to support facilitation, accommodation and other logistics. It was a gradual evolution from casual digital evangelism to a more deliberate and disciplined pursuit of media excellence.

Then came 2023. The restlessness had matured into resolve. I began sounding out colleagues, acquaintances, and respected professionals – some close, others peripherally admired. The idea was simple, or so it seemed: create an integrity-focused, excellence-driven, peer-supported media development programme – a space to reset our collective compass. Thus, the Media Integrity Initiative Africa (MIIA) was conceived.

The process was deliberate. We first identified 35 potential partners – a mix of veterans, rising talents, and those quietly consistent in their professionalism. I told myself: if 12 sign up, we go ahead. When 20 gave a clear nod, it felt like we had struck a silent goldmine. Curiously, many of those who declined – or simply ghosted – were from the broadcasting subsector. Maybe the airwaves already drained their sense of possibility. Or perhaps, they’d grown weary of new wine in old skins.

Yet, MIIA launched with a bang. Our press release didn’t just go viral, it galloped across platforms like a long-lost anthem. For over a week, the Nigerian media ecosystem buzzed with excitement, curiosity, and hope. We received more entry requests than we anticipated. It took a month of filtering, planning, and backend gymnastics before we finally opened registration. Free of charge. No hidden clauses. Just pure passion for transformation.

That decision – to keep registration and training completely free – was perhaps our noblest miscalculation. It attracted both the hungry and the half-hearted. People registered with gusto, only to ghost when classes began. A few even forgot they had registered – and when prompted via WhatsApp broadcasts, responded with suspicion. One even threatened to report us for data fraud. I had to screenshot his own Google Form entry to prove he wasn’t hallucinating.

Managing the logistics of MIIA was akin to juggling eggs on a spinning ceiling fan. Over 150 participants, multiple facilitators, and the relentless unpredictability of Nigerian internet connectivity. One assistant was tasked with vetting registrants in real-time – a role that could drive saints to sarcasm. Many registered with one name, but showed up on Google Meet with another. Or changed devices entirely, confusing our vetting matrix. Some waited outside the virtual classroom like grumbling schoolboys denied assembly.

As the host, I wore multiple hats: I was custodian of the Google Meet links; I was the data sponsor, ensuring mobile bundles didn’t run dry; I supervised the generator in case NEPA decided to play tricks; I stored backup slides of facilitators in case their devices took ill. I coordinated rehearsals, reviewed module outlines, scheduled classes, and chased post-class feedbacks. I prepped pre-class motivators like Lanre Ìdòwú and Lekan Otufodunrin to warm up the crowd. It was madness cloaked in method.

Our Saturdays (12th and 19th of April, 2025) became sacrosanct – four-hour sessions, punctuated by a one-hour break, delivered with the energy of a TED talk and the sincerity of village mentoring. Yet, every weekend brought new surprises: a facilitator’s screen freezing mid-sentence, a participant unmuting to argue with PHCN, a neighbour’s generator swallowing the audio of a brilliant submission. Through it all, we trudged on.

 Our inaugural facilitators were gems remodelled as intellectual angels: Dr. Tony Onyima (Writing for Digital Media); Alex Ogundadegbe (Crisis Communication and Management); Tokunbo Ojekunle (Art of Effective Presentation); and Dr. Adeboye Ola (Photography: The Critical Minimum) – they delivered beyond belief.

Somehow, despite the chaos and curveballs, MIIA became a movement. Facilitators returned with glowing reviews. Participants sent private messages, some emotional, others professionally grateful. The WhatsApp group became a cauldron of shared experiences, peer mentoring, and hopeful ambition.

 Looking back, it’s funny how success often makes us forget the tedium. We  don’t remember the sleepless Friday nights, the finicky broadband, the clashing schedules, the polite rejections. We remember the impact. The laughter when a facilitator dropped a quotable line. The lightbulb moments when a participant grasped a new media tool. The private gratitude messages – those ones that sneak into your inbox late at night, written with candour and hope.

MIIA was never meant to be perfect. It was meant to be purposeful. And in a media ecosystem gasping for air, we have merely begun to breathe differently. Perhaps the next chapter will be even more invigorating.

(To be continued)

TOAST TO A TITAN!

To a Titan of Industry and a Gentleman of Grace – Otunba Dr. Michael Adeniyi Agbolade Ishola Adenuga, Jr., GCON.

  Monday, 29 April, 2025 marked not just the passing of another year in the life of a man, but the enduring presence of a phenomenon – one whose strides have etched themselves across the landscape of African enterprise, philanthropy, and quiet fortitude.

Otunba Michael Adenuga (72) is no ordinary businessman. He is the thoughtful architect of empires, the silent strategist whose vision gave voice and value to millions across Nigeria and beyond. His life speaks in low tones, but with the power of thunder – a paradox of humility and greatness that only a few souls are destined to carry.

In a time when ostentation often drowns substance, Otunba remains an emblem of urbane discretion. His wealth, immense; yet his wisdom, deeper. His success, towering; yet his style, measured. He exemplifies that rare blend of Yoruba dignity, global acumen, and the relentless spirit of the self-made.

 As the sun rose on his new year, may it find him in peace and strength. May his days be long and luminous, his legacy ever richer – not merely in gold, but in the hearts and hopes he inspires.

  To Otunba Adenuga – mogul, mentor, magnate – we raise a toast, not only to what he has achieved, but to the elegance with which he has achieved it. Àṣẹ!