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 monthy 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 Tunde Thompson, 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 I conclude the NYSC 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, nursing a niggling headache, 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 Biz Law passed in November 2020, I paid my tribute, “Uncle Biz Law 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 mosty single with few cares and fears. We prided ourselves in producing the best newspaper. 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 Thevl Punch, I had Chuks Iloegbunam, who wrote a weekly column from London for Vanguard, and Sonala Olumhense as mentors.
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 editorial 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.
Uncle Sam one day announced 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 spaces were 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 was 82 this year. This incident was in 1984.
On the Sports Desk, most of the work we did had Chris’ imprimatur. We bench-marked our work against what Sunny Ojeagbase, our boss at The Guardian, was doing. We learnt a lot under Mr. Ojeagbase, may the Almighty rest him. We would take 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, Lawrence Akakpa, led the charge.
Great interviews, features, and news in all its genres. We used foreign pictures boldly. They came in weekly from our London office. We dedicated a full page to them.
I have restricted this account to manage space.
Jimi Disu’s Business Desk with Medline Tador, Terry Adewale, Austin Nkwocha 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 and Eghosa Aimufua to good use either as features or foreign news. Egbosa found his soul mate, Tina on the Foreign Desk.
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 Lanre Alabi, Emeka Anaeto, Abdul Imoyo. Hector Igbikiowubo expanded oil and gas reporting and birthed Vanguard Sweet Crude, a monthly publication.
Tony Okonedo, Nkanu Egbe, Kunle Hamilton and Victor Omoregie were on the social circuit. Sam Ekeledo, Obi Nwakanma, McPhillips, and John Nwaobi, Boy Josco, in Ken Saro-Wiwa’s television comedy, Basi and Company, were in charge of Arts.
Hakeem Ukandu, fitted the big shoes that Fola Arogundade left in 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. *Silver*, sports photographer, died too.
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).
A drama involving Edema is worth recounting. The Oba of Benin laid a curse on Edema over false allegations made against the Vanguard reporter who retreated to Lagos. Mallam Sani Zorro, President of 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. 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. Anastrologer, 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 reporting a delightful read. Before her was Tonia Majie. Philo 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 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 and Chuks Ugwoke, who was a Commissioner for eight years in Enugu State. Emns Ekpon, Tony Ubani, Patrick Omorodion, Ademola Olajire, Joe Apu were in the team, later.
BIzLaw did a weekly column for us.
The Sports 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 production. One of the best hands at graphics with tech was Jide Babatunde. His work at SportsNOW, our weekly sports publication was outstanding
Dr. Pat Utomi, one of our earliest columnists, heralded Pini Jason, Tony Momoh, Bunmi Sofola, Treena Kwenta, Obi Nwakanma, and many others and Aig-Imoukhuede. Some have passed on.
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.
⁶
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 Union a Secretary-General in Owei Lakemfa, and Joe Ajaero, President of the Nigerian Labour Congress, NLC.
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, Felix Abugu and Frank Aigbogun who was Vanguard’s third Editor. Chuddy Oduenyi, also Advert Manager, was from IMT.
Newsroom management was also under Charles Chizea, Dapo Olufade, Omoregie’s partner in a shared passion of consuming snake meat.
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, was involved from 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. Ide Iguabor, Tunji, Kunle Oyatomi, Deba Uwadiae, Paul Odili, Jide Ajani have set the standards, high.
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 seems that the mark was to tell me, “we know where you live” . The securityman’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 Vanguard Advert Manager was justifiably angry when a piece I wrote in 1985 peeved a confectionery company that pulled out a 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. They never advertised with Vanguard until three years later.
Niran Malaolu, great guy on the Sub Desk, got us into challenges with headlines like. “IBB Is Wrong”. Biodun Azeez, Azu Akanwa, Femi Afolabi, Sunday 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 June 2015. Nnanna Ocherome became Chairman Editorial Board. I took a four-year break in 1994.
On my return I met Alhaji Femi Abass, Lanre Arogundade, and Bolaji Sanusi 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.
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.
Finally, I assure Uncle Sam that his records of generosity, kind spirits, forberance (who else lends newsprint, often not returned, to the competition) are too challenging to attain. The records on journalism and women are simply unmatchable.
Congratulations, Vanguard. Thanks very much Uncle Sam for the memories and moments you gifted us.
ISIGUZO, joined Vanguard as Deputy Sports Editor in 1984 and became Sports Editor in 1986, Deputy Editor in 1991 and in 1994 he left to ventilate interests in Public Relations. On his return in 1997, he joined the Editorial Board which he chaired for 10 years from 2005 until his retirement in 2015. Known majorly these days as a major commentator on minor issues, he contributed this piece to a book on 40 years of Vanguard which will be presented to the public on Wednesday 19 August 2026 in Lagos.