Footprints of a Financial Journalist

ON a personal note, it had become increasingly clear that the time for a career change had come. Any new job with a good pay was fine for me. I needed to start being a little more comfortable financially and provide adequately for my extended family. An opportunity suddenly emerged. In one of our previous job hunts, Emeka and I had visited The Guardian at Rutam House, Isolo, Lagos. We met Dr. Stanley Macebuh, the Managing Director of the newspaper. He was pleased to see us and wanted to know what he could do with the qualifications we had; a first degree in Mass Communication and an MBA degree. We did not advance the discussions any further. However, another media-related opportunity came up. Four distinguished media personalities, Dele Giwa, Dan Agbese, Ray Ekpu, and Yakubu Mohammed, with a businessman, Abdulaziz Ude as Chairman of the Board, teamed up as joint owners and directors to form a weekly publication, a newsmagazine, called Newswatch. These four media giants had practised their trade in celebrated media houses like the Daily Times, Sunday Times, National Concord and New Nigerian newspapers. The team had also assembled a collection of brilliant writers. The spouse of Ray Ekpu, Mrs. Uyai Ekpu, was a senior officer in the CMD Library Services Division. She brought a copy of the preview edition of the magazine to the office. Even though I was in a management development institution, Mrs. Ekpu knew of my strong interest in journalism. She invited me to her office to see a preview copy of the magazine. I was very interested. I took the copy from her to read and critique, so that the founders of Newswatch could consider my observations as they moved forward with the publication. The reading public was expectant, and looked forward to an informative, high quality, and revolutionary magazine from the quartet. I read the preview with interest and critically reviewed the articles in the business section of the magazine. I gave my written comments to Mrs. Ekpu who passed them on to her husband. The next day, I got an invitation to visit Newswatch to discuss my views with the editors. I took the discussion rather casually, but the editors confounded me by inviting me to join them to take charge of the business and economy section of the magazine. The next day, March 27, 1985, I got a letter of appointment as Business Correspondent which I rejected as being too low in editorial hierarchy. It was immediately revised to Business Editor and I was to assume duty within one month. The annual basic salary of N11, 000.00 (Eleven Thousand Naira) was much more than the N6, 000.00 (six thousand Naira) that CMD was paying me annually. Allowances for housing, transport, medical and leave followed, raising the total annual remuneration to N16, 500.00 (sixteen thousand five hundred Naira). This job promised to give me more resources to spend on my siblings and parents and still leave me richer. The regular living from hand-to-mouth would be moderated. Without having to look too far from my CMD base, I had just been given an opportunity to use my education and training in journalism and business to make money from my passion. In the hands of an enterprising interviewer the two degrees would produce a difference. They did.

Newswatch was my gateway into Nigerian journalism. My job was to inform the public on the direction of the economy and provide understandable in-depth analysis of business and financial developments at macro and micro levels. The team at Newswatch was ready for any challenge. The organisation had a very transparent structure but the personalities of the four big boys could not have been more different. The editorial suite was composed of formidable journalists and writers. Dele Giwa was the undisputed Chief Executive Officer and editor-in-chief. He was a rebel in look and behaviour. Ray Ekpu was the deputy editor-in-chief, an equally rebellious mind, with a caustic pen. He bore a calm and inscrutable visage. Dele and Ray had similar interests whether at work or in the night clubs. Dan Agbese was the managing editor, mature, unruffled, an acclaimed satirist and sedate. Dan had deep contacts with the Northern elites and the Kaduna Mafia. Whether in anger or excitement, Dan’s face remains unchanged. Dan had a similarly rebellious pen but he was a domesticated family man not given to the rascally ways of Dele and Ray. Yakubu Mohammed, the youngest of the four, was the executive editor. Yakubu was more like Dan in terms of lifestyle but could write just like the others. He had a lot of contacts with top military brass. In fact, the four founding fathers of the magazine were friends to lots of military and civilian elites. The four gentlemen constituted the executive management team of Newswatch. Three associate editors, Soji Akinrinade, Dayo Onibile and Dele Omotunde, were next in hierarchy. They were followed by the senior staff writers, namely, Larry Arhagba, May Ellen Ezekiel, Nosa Igiebor and the London Bureau Chief, Kayode Soyinka and myself, the Business editor. Following closely were the staff writers: Dare Babarinsa, Wale Oladepo, Dele Olojede, Rolake Omonubi, and Soji Omotunde. The reporter-researchers, Akin Banjoko, Ben Edokpayi, Austen Oghuma, George Otieno, and Anietie Usen were no less important. Dele Agekameh and Ifeoma Uyanwume were the Readers while Afolabi Adesanya and Obi Azuru were the Photo Editor and Art Editor respectively. There were many other supporting staff in the library, advertising, circulation, and accounts departments. This was the formidable team that I joined as Business Editor in May 1985. The philosophy was “publish and be damned”, the kind of belief system we were taught in the school of journalism. Many of these journalists, amongst whom were Ray Ekpu, Dan Agbese, and Yakubu Mohammed, passed through the Mass Communication Department of the University of Lagos, my own alma mater. It was homecoming for me.

The first shocker I got was being told that a cover story on “UAC, The Business Machine” was in the works and my input was needed. It was being anchored by Dayo Onibile who was combining the business desk of the magazine with his responsibility for production. I was confused about my role in it. Luckily, nobody bothered me for any contribution, mainly because the material had been assembled for the story to be written. It was a time to welcome me. The cover story was about 30 type-written pages in length and took nine pages of the magazine. Unexpectedly, barely a month of my assumption of duty, Dayo Onibile, the associate editor doubling as Business editor and production editor, stormed out of the boardroom and resigned his appointment over a spat with Dele Giwa. I knew Dayo. He was classmate to Yakubu Mohammed and a year my senior at the University of Lagos. His departure was painful because he was not there to guide me. As I began my work as Business editor, I was put under the supervision of Dan Agbese, whose job was to make my writing reader-friendly, to help me break down as much as possible the arcane language of business and economy, and generally improve the readability of my reports. Dan was simply a butcher. His pen could make or mar my week. I could take a 10-page story to Dan and he will return it to me as a two-page story. Under Dan, I became a more precise writer. I avoided prevarications and focused on the esssentials. It was my privilege to work under such an experienced editor and mentor. To recall, Dan Agbese was former editor of New Nigerian newspaper, a formidable daily headquartered in Kaduna. Dele was features editor of Daily Times and editor of Sunday Concord, after an illustrious sojourn at the venerable New York Times. Ray was former editor of Nigerian Chronicle in Calabar and editor of Sunday Times. Yakubu was editor of National Concord.

I was well prepared for a possible engagement in journalism if it ever came to be. During my MBA programme, I fell in love with two important business publications: Forbes and Businessweek. The business and economy sections of TIME magazine and Newsweek International, two of the best rated international news magazines, were compulsory read for me. When I came into Newswatch, it was total immersion. In 1985, business journalism in Nigeria was still at its infancy. The journalists covering the desks were generally not business graduates and did not have much knowledge in business management, if any. They merely relied on press releases by government and corporate organisations. Many could not read balance sheets nor did they understand profit and loss statements. Extrapolating the vertical and horizontal relationships in these financial statements was way beyond the journalist who had only been trained at the Nigerian Institute of Journalism (NIJ). Similarly, the journalist on the business beats did not know how to apply financial ratios to interprete trends in the accounting statements they received from companies. Much more interesting was the fact that many of these economic journalists did not know that most major developments reported in the financial figures were explained in the notes to the accounts. These notes were the flesh associated with the financial statements. There was also the ‘brown envelope’ syndrome in the financial press. Each time major companies called a press conference to showcase a new product, present their annual reports, or unveil an initiative, the journalists were treated to a luncheon or dinner and given envelopes containing cash. The expectation was that they would write favourable stories having been so feted. In Newsawatch, I did away with the ‘brown envelope’ practice but readily participated in the luncheons and dinners which were veritable news sources attended by newsworthy personalities. I felt insulted by the petty cash used to buy these journalists and knew I was better or equally trained as the corporate executives ridiculing the practice of journalism. Thus, in knowledge and morals, I was ready for my stint in journalism.

As I began my new job in Newswatch, another problem arose. I had to vacate the lovely

four-bedroom CMD official quarters I occupied at Olutoye Crescent in Ikeja, Lagos. The one-month notice of resignation had expired and the office had organised a send-forth party for me. Those eager to take over the flat had started to pile pressure on the Department concerned to get me out. I did not want to be pushed out and by choosing to resign my appointment I had automatically made enemies at the CMD. I began a hunt for alternative accommodation. It was difficult to come by. Fortunately, my friend Austine, who had a two-bedroom flat in Ilupeju area of Lagos was proceeding to the United States for his annual leave of one month. It was convenient for me. We arranged that I would occupy his flat while he was away. The night of his trip, I drove him to the airport, collected his keys and took over the flat with my younger brother, Bright, ever my companion. For the next one month, I could do my work in peace. Soon after, I got a three-bedroom flat on Odunukan Street, Oregun, a two-minute drive from the Newswatch head office on Oregun Road. Newswatch had given me a rent and furniture loan, which was handy. I furnished the flat within the one month and when “Landlord Austine” returned, I picked him from the airport and drove him to his Ilupeju residence. He was surprised to find that my personal belongings had gone. I had moved everything the previous night into my new flat and was very grateful to him for saving me from a major embarrassment. Now fully settled, I dug into my job as Business Editor of Newswatch. The period was exciting for economic reporting.

When Newswatch hit the newsstand in May 1985, the high and mighty were eager to get a copy. The Nigerian economy was virtually on its deathbed. Shortages, mass unemployment, factory closures, staff layoffs, unavailability of raw materials for industrial production, fear, instability, rumoured in-fighting amongst members of the ruling junta, low crude oil sales, inadequate financial resources for imports and failing institutions. These characterised the country’s landscape. The repressive military government of General Buhari had also launched a new slogan “War Against Indiscipline”; WAI for short. The WAI campaign was to instil orderliness in a generally disorderly populace. There were to be queues at bus stations on a first come, first served, basis and no longer survival of the fittest. Street traders and sellers, the survival jobs of the very poor (like my mother did) had to be swept off the streets of Lagos, the federal capital, with no replacements or alternatives. It didn’t matter if the poor perished as a result of government decision or their children’s education was brought to an abrupt end.

Because of the scarcity of domestic commodities, each person was expected to buy just a little of whatever was in the shop. No one could buy as much as he or she wanted of anything, even if the money was available. It was a daily grind. The economy was dragging. There was no coherent policy to address the problems. Nigeria had a terrifying balance of payment crisis. With a total external public debt (medium and long term) of US$12.9 billion, another contestable US$5 billion short term debt with bunched maturities and debt service ratio of 44%, the Nigerian economy was gasping for breath. Indeed, in April 1983, the government of President Shehu Shagari had asked the International Monetary Fund (IMF) for a balance of payment facility of US$3 billion to help create a head room for the Nigerian economy. The conditionalities given by the IMF were frightening, particularly in an election year. The request was kept in abeyance. This was the state of public debt when General Buhari took over the mantle of leadership. In the years 1983, 1984, 1985, and 1986, the Nigerian economy was simply a basket case. The Buhari administration, for the 18 months it lasted, tried unsuccessfully to develop a coherent plan to get the economy out of the woods. The then Minister of Finance, Dr. Onaolapo Soleye, a university lecturer in Sociology, in an unfamiliar turf, was apparently overwhelmed. His counterpart in Economic Development and Planning, Mr. M.A. Adigun, was not much different. With such a weak economic team, the country was simply living from day to day. The easily available option was the IMF loan but the Buhari government, like most Nigerians, detested the preconditions attached to it.

The country was in a dilemma in the second quarter of 1985. If accepted, the IMF loan would be disbursed in three tranches under a truly dreaded programme known as the Structural Adjustment Programme (SAP), in the context of its External Fund Facility (EFF).12 To qualify for the facility, certain severe conditions had to be met. The first was a drastic reduction in the size of the public sector, to reduce the public expenditure programme. This would mean that civil servants and other public office holders would have to be retrenched in droves to achieve a reduction in the wage bill. The second condition was that most government-owned enterprises would have to be privatised under a programme that would leave them to swim or sink without government intervention. The third condition was to accept a policy of trade liberalisation to allow imports and exports to flow without artificial non-tariff barriers. Before now, Nigeria and other developing economies typically erected non-tariff barriers to protect their infant industries. The fourth condition was the imposition of a 60% devaluation of the local currency, the Naira, ostensibly to make the export of Nigerian goods attractive and discourage expensive imports. The fifth condition was that the subsidy on petroleum pricing would be removed so that petroleum products would be priced based on market forces that reflect the true cost of production. In two stories the newsmagazine Newswatch x-rayed the IMF challenge in “IMF – Prescribing Death for Survival – June 17, 1985 (pp 10–17)9 and “They Gotta Cry to Laugh”, January 27, 1986 (pp 32-33).10

These were the conditions the Buhari administration had to contend with. If the government failed to accept them, shortages in the economy would be more dramatic, and poverty, misery, and want would increase. In fact, it was a choice between the devil and the deep blue sea. Meanwhile, the parallel market for foreign exchange, mainly on Broad Street in Lagos, was thriving. Since official inflows of United States dollars and British pounds sterling were so highly limited, the unofficial market held sway. During this period, the parallel market reportedly contributed close to 40% of the country’s foreign exchange requirements. The market was funded from multiple sources which no one bothered to know because availability was more important than the legality of the supplies. In the desperate situation Nigeria found herself, what seemed to matter was getting foreign exchange by whatever means. Indeed, those who had benefited maximally from the government import licensing regime were part of the supply sources in the parallel market. As Nigeria was agonising over the bitter IMF pill, Latin American countries, led by Brazil and followed closely by Mexico, Argentina, Venezuela, Chile, Peru, Colombia, Bolivia, and Uruguay, were already battling for survival under their Imf-induced Structutural Adjustment Programmes. Street protests and civil unrests were ravaging these Latin American countries that had taken the IMF loan. African countries like Kenya, Somalia, Sudan, Tanzania, and Morocco were equally in trouble with the IMF loan. Morocco wisely abandoned the loan after four of its citizens were killed in the first day of street riots. The Buhari administration got angrier each time it thought of the consequences of the IMF conditions on Nigeria. But what was the choice?

What became clear was that the Buhari administration was not sold on the IMF loan. In July 1985, in a rare show of creative thinking, the Buhari government bought into being a new scheme known as Countertrade, which many debt-ridden developing nations had put in place to get around the IMF and secure a temporary relief. The scheme was designed to exchange Nigeria’s oil for industrial goods and raw materials. In the Newswatch publication of July 15, 1985, a coverage titled “Counter-trade – Nigeria’s Strategy for Survival”, reviewed the various dimensions of this economic survival strategy.11 The first deal the government contracted was a US$500 million exchange with Brazil for trading crude oil for food, consumer items, materials for manufacturing plants, as well as Completely Knocked Down (CKD) parts for the Volkswagen assembly plant in Lagos. The policy of bartering the country’s crude oil for needed goods and services was to become Nigeria’s answer to the dreaded IMF conditionalities. In quick succession, more barter deals were signed. A $500 million deal was signed with SCOA of France and ELF, the French oil giant with operations in Nigeria, to import Nigerian oil for sale in France, for the finance of imports of pharmaceutical drugs, chemicals, sugar, spare parts and CKD parts for the Peugeot assembly plant in Kaduna. The $400 million deal with Italy required the lifting of 40,000 barrels of oil per day in exchange for auto spare parts from the FIAT motor company and chemicals from the Italian state oil firm ENI.

Many other companies from the United States, Britain, Japan, and Korea were interested in countertrade deals with Nigeria. But the larger public had started asking questions about the terms of the deals already signed and their fairness to the Nigerian state. In its most elementary form, barter involves two parties, usually from different countries, engaged in exchange of goods and or services without the medium of money. But barter as it became known under countertrade had assumed huge complications and included such variants as counter-purchase, offset buyback and switch trading. The Nigerian public was unsettled when it considered the fact that Nigerian companies were not versed in the language and dynamics of countertrade and feared that the country’s oil resources would be given away for peanuts. The public was not convinced even when the federal government insisted that the crude oil was being bartered at Opec-approved prices. Apart from the possibilities of over invoicing by the barter partners, there was fear in financial circles that countertrade would divert export opportunities from Nigeria’s trading partners and eventually reduce competition among suppliers. Other fears expressed were that once the Nigerian crude oil had been bartered, the country no longer had control over it and could go to Nigeria’s ‘political enemies like apartheid South Africa.’ The crude oil may also be sold at ridiculous prices at the spot market for quick profits.

Although countertrade was new in Nigeria, it was already in use by other countries around the globe. The United States Department of Commerce did forecast that by the end of the decade of the 1980s, barter trade could reach 20% of world trade. In Africa, it was already hovering between three and 30% of the continent’s total trade. During this period, countries such as Brazil, Mexico, South Korea, Indonesia, and Israel were known to have used counter-trade deals in their international businesses. It was also a major component of Russia’s trade with the West. In France, the government had a countertrade unit within the Foreign Trade Department.