Still on my book, Bleeding Ink, which highlights the struggles and sacrifices of Nigerian journalists and the price they have pa...
Still on my book, Bleeding Ink, which highlights the struggles and sacrifices of Nigerian journalists and the price they have paid in the fight for justice—know this: the ink still bleeds profusely.
The right to speak truth to power—once a cornerstone of our democracy—is being dismantled before our very eyes. Not through sweeping decrees or dramatic proclamations, but slowly, methodically: one arrest at a time, one police summons at a time, one silenced newsroom at a time.
In recent weeks, a disturbing trend has taken root across Nigeria. Journalists are being harassed, detained, interrogated, or threatened—simply for fulfilling their duty to inform the public. From Jaafar Jaafar in Kano, to Fisayo Soyombo in Ekiti, Nasir Hassan Yelwa in Abuja, Hassan Mai-Waya in Kebbi, and the attempted closure of Badeggi FM in Niger State, the signs are unmistakable, journalism is under siege.
Take Jaafar Jaafar, for instance. His platform, Daily Nigerian, has published reports of public interest that ought to have prompted reform. Instead, he now faces a police summons under allegations of conspiracy and defamation. If an individual feels aggrieved, the lawful path is civil litigation. The law exists to provide justice—not to serve as a weapon for vengeance cloaked in official intimidation.
In Abuja, Nasir Hassan Yelwa was arrested while covering a peaceful Maulid procession. His ‘crime’? Doing the job his profession demands and his constitution protects.
In Kebbi, Hassan Mai-Waya was arrested for exposing the deplorable conditions of a public hospital. Rather than addressing the systemic decay he highlighted, the authorities chose to imprison the journalist. This is not governance—it is persecution.
In Ekiti, the police have targeted investigative journalists Sodeeq Atanda and Fisayo Soyombo, following their platform’s exposé on allegations of sexual misconduct at a university. Rather than investigate the misconduct, the state is investigating the messengers—accusing them of cyberbullying and blackmail. When truth-telling becomes a punishable offence, what remains of our democracy?
Let us be clear that this is not about journalistic ethics or professional conduct. These are not isolated incidents. They form part of a broader, dangerous pattern—enabled by those who regard journalism not as a public good, but as a threat to unaccountable power.
The case of Comrade Ladi Bala, former NAWOJ president, further underscores this grim reality. Her public vilification and targeted harassment send a chilling message to journalists—especially women: speak boldly, and prepare to be silenced.
Now, the Niger State Government had threatened to shut down and demolish Badeggi FM 90.1, a private radio station. Such action is not only unconstitutional, but also reckless. The authority to regulate or sanction the media lies solely with the National Broadcasting Commission—not with any state governor. To act otherwise is to trample both the law and democracy.
Let it be stated—without hesitation or apology that journalism is not a crime. It is not cyberbullying. It is not conspiracy. It is not defamation when it seeks to uncover truth and defend the public interest. When practised with integrity, journalism is not a nuisance—it is a necessity.
Democracy cannot survive where fear is the currency of public discourse. It cannot flourish where journalists are hounded, arrested, or summoned by security agencies acting not in the interest of justice, but in defence of political egos.
It should be understood that freedom of the press is not a privilege granted by the state. It is a fundamental right, enshrined in Section 39 of the 1999 Constitution (as amended) and in Article 9 of the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights. It exists not to comfort the powerful, but to protect the governed.
If public officials cannot tolerate scrutiny—if they interpret criticism as sedition, and view journalists as adversaries—then they have lost sight of the very essence of public service.
A free press is not the enemy of the state—it is the conscience of the nation. It is the mirror we all need, even when the reflection is uncomfortable. But when a nation smashes its own mirror because it dislikes the image it sees, it condemns itself to ignorance and decay.
The ink still bleeds—not from reckless pens, but from violated rights and bruised liberties. We cannot honour the memory of past media heroes while remaining silent as today’s truth-tellers are persecuted.
I call on every Nigerian who believes in justice to raise their voice. Monitor these cases. Demand accountability. Resist intimidation. Defend the right to know.
Because today, it is Jaafar, Soyombo, Yelwa, Mai-Waya, and Ladi. Tomorrow, it could be any of us.
This is not just about journalism.
It is about justice.
And justice must not bleed in the ink of silence.
Shu'aibu Usman Leman
Former National Secretary,
Nigeria Union of Journalists (NUJ)
14 September 2025
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