I still shudder whenever I remember the events that culminated into me, a journalist, hunting corrupt police officers turned into the hunted. As corruption fought back, the tables were turned against me. Suddenly, even my boss began to threaten me. I barely managed to escape being locked up. And it was by the whiskers that I managed to save my job. It was like holding a tiger by the tail.
It happened about twenty years ago. I was a naive, highly motivated, overzealous journalist who believed then that things worked by the book. It was during a military era, around 1997/98. I was a news editor, working with Katsina State Radio and Television Services, KTRTV. As a matter of fact, I was the Manager, News and Current Affairs. And being the Secretary, Nigerian Union of Journalists, NUJ, Katsina State Council, I was representing the union in Katsina State Task Force on the Distribution of Petroleum Products, as petrol was very scarce all over the country at the time. The task force had to be constituted because almost everybody was involved in the diversion of petrol to make fast money, policemen included. They used their patrol vehicles to load jerrycans of petrol which they bought cheap at the Filling Stations after intimidating and harassing people who had spent hours on the queue, only to resell to roadside hawkers for profit. The roadside hawkers would, in turn, sell to the public at exorbitant prices.
On that fateful day, I drove out of my house in the morning as usual to go to work. Just outside Batagarawa Low-cost Housing Estate, Katsina, near Batagarawa city gate was a Petrol Station which was then called Bafarawa Filling Station. They were selling petrol. Many cars and motorcycles were lined up in queues to purchase the commodity. I decided to top-up my car because it was very difficult to get fuel anywhere at the time. I drove into the station and joined a long queue which was moving inch by inch. After several hours moving on the queue, a vehicle, which was not even a police vehicle, but a private Peugeot 505 station wagon suddenly drove into the Filling Station and about five Mobile Policemen came out with several fifty liter jerrycans. They went directly to the pump and ordered the attendant to fill the jerrycans, ignoring other people who had spent a couple of hours on the queue. I looked at the situation and my journalistic instinct told me that here was a headline story. I quietly moved out of the queue and headed to the office where I quickly got a cameraman. And I went back to the filling station where I found the policemen still filling their jerrycans. I instructed the cameraman to start video taping the policemen. On sighting the cameraman, the policemen started running away to hide behind the building in the filling station to avoid being caught on camera. There was also a truck parked within the premises. Some of them ran and hid behind the truck. I told the cameraman to squat and take a close up shot of their legs, zooming in to establish the fact that the boots were actually those of policemen.
All the while this was going on, people were shouting and laughing at the unfolding drama. After a few minutes one of the policemen decided to peep around the corner to see whether we had gone and smack, the cameraman got his face on film.
We left the place after we had recorded enough material and interviewed a couple of guys who confirmed that it was the usual practice all over Katsina. Before writing my news report, I went and informed my boss, the Managing Director (MD) of KTRTV at the time, who gave the go-ahead for me to write the report since I had the film to back it up. I wrote a report and edited the film carefully. The story that day was one of the headlines.
Luckily, the State Military Administrator, late Col. Samuel Bature Chamah, was watching the news that day. He was doing his best at the time to ensure that petrol was available in Katsina. That informed the decision to set up a task force that supervised the distribution and sale of the commodity. You can imagine his anger when he realized that the police, who were supposed to assist were actually sabotaging his effort. He got very furious and ordered the immediate arrest of the policemen shown in the news. It was easy to get them since the face of one of them was shown. He ordered an immediate investigation into the issue.
From that day, the battle line was drawn between Katsina police and I. Early in the morning the next day, policemen were sent to my office to get me to go to the force headquarters to write a statement. My boss directed my immediate supervisor, the Director Television Services, to accompany me in case they decided to be funny. He was full of praises and support for me. He assured me that he was behind me and would support me to the end. As soon as we went to the police headquarters, they surrounded us and started shouting at me. "So you think you can bring us down?", said one of them. Among those shouting at me was one of the members of the State Task Force on Petroleum Products. We were working together in the committee and we knew each other very well. And he was one of the "bad boys" in the committee. It was alleged that he openly took bribe from owners of filling stations and often looked the other way when they diverted the commodity. He said it was because the owners of that filling station had refused to settle me, that was why I decided to do that story. I told him to prove it. He kept on shouting and mentioning all kinds of wild allegations. The kind that he was guilty of, thinking that everybody was like him. Finally, I wrote my statement and cited credible witnesses who told me that they were ready to swear in court if need be.
They took my statement and added their own comments, such as, "on so so date, one Ahmed alias T.J., bla bla bla..." That was how my colleagues in the office began to call me, "Ahmed alias T.J." The nickname, TJ, itself was given to me by my colleagues on the day I reported for duty at Katsina State Television, KTTV, the very first time. When I introduced myself as Ahmed Tijjani Abdulkadir, a friend and a colleague, Nasiru Abdul, a former Special Adviser on Media to Governor Umaru Musa Yar'Adua, immediately latched on the initials of my middle name and called me TJ. The nickname stuck. And that was what all members of the petroleum task force used to call me, including the policeman representing the police. And, I suppose, that was why it came up in the police statement.
Finally, after verifying what I wrote, they grudgingly allowed me to go after threatening to deal with me. We went back and briefed the MD on what transpired. He advised me to be careful and watch my movements in case they tried to frame me on other false charges just to get back at me.
I thought that was the end of the matter, but, alas, how wrong I turned out to be... Several days went by without anything happening. Then, one day, the MD summoned me into his office and requested for the original video tape of the incidence. He went out with it. After several hours he returned and called me to his office. His whole countenance had changed. When I looked at him and saw the change, my heart sank. I knew I was in trouble. They had somehow managed to convince the governor that I was the corrupt journalist trying to frame honest police officers. And the governor directed the MD to investigate me. He, too, was thoroughly bashed. He came back smarting with anger and took it out on me. He said he knew I was being framed but that he wouldn't hesitate to sack me if he was directed to do so.
Several days went by and the policemen were released. Since then, nothing came up again. Gradually, the issue died a natural death. But to say that I was shaken by that incident is to put it mildly. And to say that it was what made me realize that corruption also fights back is an understatement of the year.
It happened about twenty years ago. I was a naive, highly motivated, overzealous journalist who believed then that things worked by the book. It was during a military era, around 1997/98. I was a news editor, working with Katsina State Radio and Television Services, KTRTV. As a matter of fact, I was the Manager, News and Current Affairs. And being the Secretary, Nigerian Union of Journalists, NUJ, Katsina State Council, I was representing the union in Katsina State Task Force on the Distribution of Petroleum Products, as petrol was very scarce all over the country at the time. The task force had to be constituted because almost everybody was involved in the diversion of petrol to make fast money, policemen included. They used their patrol vehicles to load jerrycans of petrol which they bought cheap at the Filling Stations after intimidating and harassing people who had spent hours on the queue, only to resell to roadside hawkers for profit. The roadside hawkers would, in turn, sell to the public at exorbitant prices.
On that fateful day, I drove out of my house in the morning as usual to go to work. Just outside Batagarawa Low-cost Housing Estate, Katsina, near Batagarawa city gate was a Petrol Station which was then called Bafarawa Filling Station. They were selling petrol. Many cars and motorcycles were lined up in queues to purchase the commodity. I decided to top-up my car because it was very difficult to get fuel anywhere at the time. I drove into the station and joined a long queue which was moving inch by inch. After several hours moving on the queue, a vehicle, which was not even a police vehicle, but a private Peugeot 505 station wagon suddenly drove into the Filling Station and about five Mobile Policemen came out with several fifty liter jerrycans. They went directly to the pump and ordered the attendant to fill the jerrycans, ignoring other people who had spent a couple of hours on the queue. I looked at the situation and my journalistic instinct told me that here was a headline story. I quietly moved out of the queue and headed to the office where I quickly got a cameraman. And I went back to the filling station where I found the policemen still filling their jerrycans. I instructed the cameraman to start video taping the policemen. On sighting the cameraman, the policemen started running away to hide behind the building in the filling station to avoid being caught on camera. There was also a truck parked within the premises. Some of them ran and hid behind the truck. I told the cameraman to squat and take a close up shot of their legs, zooming in to establish the fact that the boots were actually those of policemen.
All the while this was going on, people were shouting and laughing at the unfolding drama. After a few minutes one of the policemen decided to peep around the corner to see whether we had gone and smack, the cameraman got his face on film.
We left the place after we had recorded enough material and interviewed a couple of guys who confirmed that it was the usual practice all over Katsina. Before writing my news report, I went and informed my boss, the Managing Director (MD) of KTRTV at the time, who gave the go-ahead for me to write the report since I had the film to back it up. I wrote a report and edited the film carefully. The story that day was one of the headlines.
Luckily, the State Military Administrator, late Col. Samuel Bature Chamah, was watching the news that day. He was doing his best at the time to ensure that petrol was available in Katsina. That informed the decision to set up a task force that supervised the distribution and sale of the commodity. You can imagine his anger when he realized that the police, who were supposed to assist were actually sabotaging his effort. He got very furious and ordered the immediate arrest of the policemen shown in the news. It was easy to get them since the face of one of them was shown. He ordered an immediate investigation into the issue.
From that day, the battle line was drawn between Katsina police and I. Early in the morning the next day, policemen were sent to my office to get me to go to the force headquarters to write a statement. My boss directed my immediate supervisor, the Director Television Services, to accompany me in case they decided to be funny. He was full of praises and support for me. He assured me that he was behind me and would support me to the end. As soon as we went to the police headquarters, they surrounded us and started shouting at me. "So you think you can bring us down?", said one of them. Among those shouting at me was one of the members of the State Task Force on Petroleum Products. We were working together in the committee and we knew each other very well. And he was one of the "bad boys" in the committee. It was alleged that he openly took bribe from owners of filling stations and often looked the other way when they diverted the commodity. He said it was because the owners of that filling station had refused to settle me, that was why I decided to do that story. I told him to prove it. He kept on shouting and mentioning all kinds of wild allegations. The kind that he was guilty of, thinking that everybody was like him. Finally, I wrote my statement and cited credible witnesses who told me that they were ready to swear in court if need be.
They took my statement and added their own comments, such as, "on so so date, one Ahmed alias T.J., bla bla bla..." That was how my colleagues in the office began to call me, "Ahmed alias T.J." The nickname, TJ, itself was given to me by my colleagues on the day I reported for duty at Katsina State Television, KTTV, the very first time. When I introduced myself as Ahmed Tijjani Abdulkadir, a friend and a colleague, Nasiru Abdul, a former Special Adviser on Media to Governor Umaru Musa Yar'Adua, immediately latched on the initials of my middle name and called me TJ. The nickname stuck. And that was what all members of the petroleum task force used to call me, including the policeman representing the police. And, I suppose, that was why it came up in the police statement.
Finally, after verifying what I wrote, they grudgingly allowed me to go after threatening to deal with me. We went back and briefed the MD on what transpired. He advised me to be careful and watch my movements in case they tried to frame me on other false charges just to get back at me.
I thought that was the end of the matter, but, alas, how wrong I turned out to be... Several days went by without anything happening. Then, one day, the MD summoned me into his office and requested for the original video tape of the incidence. He went out with it. After several hours he returned and called me to his office. His whole countenance had changed. When I looked at him and saw the change, my heart sank. I knew I was in trouble. They had somehow managed to convince the governor that I was the corrupt journalist trying to frame honest police officers. And the governor directed the MD to investigate me. He, too, was thoroughly bashed. He came back smarting with anger and took it out on me. He said he knew I was being framed but that he wouldn't hesitate to sack me if he was directed to do so.
Several days went by and the policemen were released. Since then, nothing came up again. Gradually, the issue died a natural death. But to say that I was shaken by that incident is to put it mildly. And to say that it was what made me realize that corruption also fights back is an understatement of the year.
I remember that incident clearly. I was the News Anchor that memorable day. How time flies!
ReplyDeleteQuite right, Marafan Daura! 3-1-3-1-6...
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