When Reverend Henry Townsend founded Iwe Irohin in Abeokuta, Ogun State, on November 23, 1859, he aimed to promote literacy among the Yoruba people, besides other objectives. The publication, first printed fortnightly in Yoruba, added an English supplement in 1860. One hundred and sixty-six years later, the Nigerian Press has survived colonial censorship, military decrees, and political manipulation, but its freedom hangs precariously, hence the continuation of the struggle for truth, integrity, and survival in an environment where journalists face new digital threats, poor remuneration, economic strangulation, routine harassment, new rules and deaths, SUNDAY AIKULOLA reports.
The story of Nigerian journalism is not only a saga of courage and compromise, innovation and intimidation, but it is also a reminder that the fight for press freedom is far from over.
Section 22 of the 1999 Constitution (as amended) enshrines a noble mandate thus: “The press, radio, television and other agencies of the mass media shall at all times be free to uphold the responsibility and accountability of the government to the people.”
Similarly, Article 19 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights guarantees the right “to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media, regardless of frontiers.”
While these fine words remain largely aspirational, the reality on the streets and in newsrooms remains the fact that journalists still face intimidation, arbitrary arrests, and even death for doing their work.
In recent months alone, reporters have been beaten, detained, or dragged before courts under spurious charges by key persons and groups in the society, whom they strive daily to serve.
In one of the latest episodes, which took place during the recent #FreeNnamdiKanuNow protest that was coordinated by activist Omoyele Sowore, journalists Tony Ailemen, Tunde Adeniyi, Ladi Patrick-Okwoli, and Michael Godwin narrowly escaped death when police fired canisters of tear gas directly at their vehicle. Two Agence France-Presse (AFP) correspondents, John Okunyomih and Nicholas Roll, were also arrested, and their phones and cameras confiscated.
Earlier in June 2025, Olatunji Adebayo, a correspondent with The Punch Newspaper, was pummelled and his equipment seized by security operatives while covering a protest in Ibadan, Oyo State.
In July 2025, Blessing Okonkwo, a freelance broadcast journalist in Anambra State, was harassed and assaulted by police officers, who accused her of “unauthorised reporting” while she was filming a demolition exercise.
Also, in August 2025, Ibrahim Garba, a photojournalist working for Daily Trust Newspaper in Kano, was detained for hours and physically assaulted by political party loyalists while covering a campaign rally.
Ladi Bala, the Transport Correspondent of the Nigerian Television Authority (NTA) and former President of the Nigerian Association of Women Journalists (NAWOJ), got the same treatment in the same month.
She was harassed and verbally assaulted by the Managing Director (MD) of the Nigerian Railway Corporation (NRC) while she was covering the derailment of a train along the Abuja-Kaduna rail corridor.
The MD allegedly disrupted Bala’s live reporting and ordered security operatives to bundle her away from the scene, while threatening to report her to her employers for sanction.
Again, in September 2025, Sodeeq Atanda, a senior reporter with the Foundation for Investigative Journalism (FIJ), was arrested by the Ekiti State Police Command in Ado-Ekiti, Ekiti State, after he honoured an invitation by the police over his report that exposed alleged sexual harassment perpetrated by the Vice-Chancellor of the Federal University Oye-Ekiti (FUOYE).
In the same month, Hassan Mai-Waya Kangiwa in Kebbi State was allegedly detained on the orders of Governor Nasir Idris, following the circulation of a video that exposed the deplorable state of the facilities at the Kangiwa General Hospital in the state.
In another September incident, the Founder of the Foundation for Investigative Journalism (FIJ), Fisayo Soyombo, was also summoned by the Ekiti State Police Command for alleged conspiracy, criminal defamation, cyberbullying, and blackmail. Soyombo’s recent experiences vividly illustrate the perils that journalists face daily in their work.
In November 2024, Soyombo was arrested and detained for three days by the 6 Division of the Nigerian Army in Port Harcourt, the Rivers State capital, while conducting an undercover investigation. The army at that time said that he was arrested at an illegal oil bunkering site.
Upon regaining freedom, the 40-year-old said in an interview: “I was investigating an illegal oil bunkering, and someone in the security setup was offended that he didn’t get bribed, and he alerted others. The Nigerian Army did not arrest me at first – I came forward, thinking that it was a settlement conversation. But they picked me around 2 a.m., and by 5 a.m. I was in the 6th Division of the Nigerian Army.”
Soyombo recalled that soldiers mistook him for a bunkerer and later realised that he was a journalist, but what followed was worse: his personal security was compromised after the army allegedly leaked his information to the same illegal bunkerers that he was investigating.
“How can you grill me at the 6th Division, and when I got out, the bunkerers told me every single thing I told the soldiers?” he asked. “It’s the first time I felt my security compromised, and by the same army that should be ending illegal oil bunkering.”
Soyombo’s story is a chilling reflection of the deep distrust between the state and the media. In a country where institutions often prefer secrecy to scrutiny, investigative journalism can become a perilous profession.
This pattern of hostility has become disturbingly routine. A confirmation of this is captured in a new report by Media Rights Agenda (MRA), which stated that government officials were responsible for 74 per cent of attacks on journalists in Nigeria, with the Nigeria Police Force (NPF) accounting for nearly half of these violations.
The 129-page report, titled: ‘When Protectors Become Predators: The State Against Freedom of Expression in Nigeria’, was released last Monday to mark the 2025 International Day to End Impunity for Crimes Against Journalists.
The MRA survey, conducted between January 1 and October 31, 2025, found that government officials were responsible for nearly three-quarters of all attacks on journalists and violations of freedom of expression.
Other perpetrators include operatives of the Department of State Services (DSS), members of the military and paramilitary agencies, as well as elected or appointed political officeholders at both the federal and state levels.
According to the report, at least 69 incidents were recorded during the review period, including arbitrary arrests and detention, physical assaults, threats to life, abductions, invasions of media offices, and other forms of harassment and intimidation of journalists performing their legitimate duties.
MRA’s Deputy Executive Director, Mr Ayode Longe, said the findings reveal that journalists in Nigeria are increasingly under siege, not just from criminals and insurgents, but “principally from the very state institutions charged with protecting them.”
He said the trend represents a grave contradiction of the government’s constitutional and international obligations to safeguard journalists and guarantee citizens’ right to information, describing it as “a fundamental breakdown of law enforcement accountability and a direct assault on democracy and the rule of law.”
The report noted that widespread impunity for crimes against journalists has eroded public confidence in government institutions and emboldened further violations, as perpetrators are rarely investigated or prosecuted.
This, it said, has fostered an atmosphere of fear and self-censorship that undermines democratic governance. The MRA emphasised that ensuring journalists’ safety is a legal and moral duty of the government, enshrined in the Nigerian Constitution, Article 9 of the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights, and Article 19 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights.
The organisation urged the Federal Government to establish mechanisms to ensure accountability for officials involved in attacks on journalists and to reform and retrain security and law enforcement agencies to respect human rights and press freedom.
It also called for the creation of a national multi-stakeholder protection framework for journalists, and also an end to the misuse of Cybercrime (Prohibition, Prevention, etc.) Act, 2015, and other repressive laws against the media.
Additionally, the MRA appealed to the National Assembly to pass legislation specifically criminalising attacks on journalists and urged the National Judicial Council (NJC) to monitor and prevent the misuse of judicial processes to harass media professionals.
A further illustration of the dire state of the media environment for journalists is found in Reporters Without Borders’ (RSF) 2025 Index, which ranks Nigeria 122nd out of 180 countries—a ten-spot drop from the previous year.
According to RSF, journalists in Nigeria “are regularly monitored, attacked, and arbitrarily arrested,” especially during elections.
Without a doubt, the irony here is stark: the world’s largest Black democracy remains one of Africa’s most dangerous places to be a journalist.
Globally, the issue appears the same, as data from the RSF revealed that more than 210 journalists have been killed by the Israeli army in the Gaza Strip in nearly 23 months of Israeli military operations in the Palestinian territory.
Chronicle of deaths and conspiracy of silence
APART from being harassed and intimidated, Nigeria’s democratic journey since 1999 has been littered with the blood of journalists who paid the ultimate price for telling the truth.
From Edward Olalekan of the Daily Times, murdered in June 1999, to Channels TV’s Precious Owolabi, killed in July 2019 while covering a protest, the roll call of the fallen reads like a tragic editorial on the cost of press freedom.
Omololu Falobi of The Punch was shot dead in 2006; Godwin Agbroko and Abayomi Ogundeji of ThisDay were gunned down months apart; Bayo Ohu of The Guardian was murdered in 2009 in his residence on a Sunday morning. In April 2010, Edo Sule-Ugbagwu of The Nation was killed, and the same fate befell Zakariya Isa of the NTA in 2011.
The killings continued: Enenche Akogwu (Channels TV, 2012), Ikechukwu Udendu (Anambra News, 2013), Lawrence Okojie (NTA, 2017), and Pelumi Onifade (Gboah TV, 2020).
Unfortunately, none of their killers has been brought to justice. Indeed, for every journalist silenced, dozens more are cowed into self-censorship – the invisible casualty of unaccountable power.
Colonial rebellion and rise of nationalist press
RECALL that as colonial authority tightened its grip over Nigeria, journalism morphed from a missionary enterprise into a vehicle of political emancipation. By the early 20th century, a new generation of publishers and editors began wielding the pen as a sword against injustice.
Herbert Macaulay’s Lagos Daily News (1925), Nnamdi Azikiwe’s West African Pilot (1937), and Obafemi Awolowo’s Nigerian Tribune (1949) were not mere newspapers – they were manifestos for liberation. They challenged colonial policies, exposed racism, and built nationalist consciousness.
Azikiwe, in particular, became the icon of this movement. Through the West African Pilot, his rallying cry—“Show the light and the people will find the way”—became the moral anchor of the press.
Even though journalists were haunted and harassed back in the day, their words ignited a political awakening that would eventually lead to independence in 1960.
Regardless, colonial administrators viewed journalists as dangerous agitators, and the 1903 Newspaper Ordinance, designed to control dissent, required publishers to obtain licenses and post bonds. Yet, rather than silence the press, such laws deepened its defiance, and journalism became the intellectual front of nationalism.
From independence to vice-like grip of military rule
NIGERIA’S independence in 1960 ushered in a new dawn and a new dilemma. The press, once united against the colonial government, now faced the complex task of holding indigenous power to account.
The early post-independence years saw an explosion of media voices, including the Daily Times, The Nigerian Morning Post, and regional outlets owned by political parties. While press freedom was constitutionally guaranteed, it often collided with the interests of powerful politicians.
While this happened, critical journalists were branded as enemies of the state. However, the arrival of military rule in 1966 dealt a heavy blow to journalism. Decrees like the Public Officers (Protection Against False Accusation) Decree No. 4 of 1984 under General Muhammadu Buhari criminalised what the regime deemed “false reporting.” Editors were jailed, printing presses sealed, and newspapers banned.
The assassination of Dele Giwa, the founding editor of Newswatch, through a parcel bomb in 1986, remains a haunting reminder of the dangers that journalists face in Nigeria. The assassination occurred two days after he had been interviewed by the then State Security Service (SSS) officials.
Others, including Bagauda Kaltho of The News, have disappeared without a trace. These killings have remained unresolved to date.Tunde Thompson and Nduka Irabor of The Guardian became symbols of journalistic persecution when they were imprisoned under Decree 4 for publishing a story that the government found uncomfortable, but not false.
During General Sani Abacha’s dictatorship (1993–1998), the press endured some of its darkest years. Journalists were abducted, tortured, or driven into exile.
Yet amid fear, resistance flourished. Underground publications such as Tell and The News Magazines operated clandestinely, distributing handbills and magazines that defied the regime. Journalism became both an act of resistance and of national conscience.
The Cybercrimes Act trap
IF physical violence was yesterday’s threat, digital repression is today’s frontier. The Cybercrimes (Prohibition, Prevention, etc) Act was enacted in 2015. It was intended to safeguard national infrastructure and protect online privacy. But in practice, its vague provisions, especially Section 24, have become a weapon against journalists, activists, and ordinary citizens.
The National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) has repeatedly warned that the Act “has potential for abuse, particularly with respect to arrests and prosecutions of activists, journalists, bloggers, and ordinary social media users.”
Despite amendments in 2024, critics argue that the law remains ambiguous and open to misuse. As The Guardian’s editorial of September 12, 2025, noted: “A law should not be vague or ambiguous… The Cybercrimes Act should be further revised to bring it into conformity with clarity, certainty, and justice. Insofar as it forayed into the realm of freedom of expression, its constitutionality will remain an issue.”
The law’s misuse is evident in the spate of arrests under cyberstalking provisions. Besides the September 2025 detention of FIJ reporter Atanda by the Ekiti State Police for exposing an alleged sexual harassment by a university vice chancellor, and Kangiwa’s arrest on the orders of the Kebbi State governor after he posted a video showing deplorable hospital conditions, the Nigerian government also relied on the Act to detain journalist Madu Onuorah over alleged defamation. Officers of the NPF arrested Onuorah, the publisher and editor-in-chief of Globalupfront Newspaper, at his residence in Abuja on May 22, 2024.
The officers, who arrested Onuorah around 6 p.m. in the presence of his wife and children, whisked him away in a Sienna bus after seizing the editor’s phones and denying him access to his lawyer and relatives.
Such cases reveal how the law meant to protect cyberspace is now being deployed to criminalise speech. The Nigerian Guild of Editors (NGE) also raised strong concerns over the abuse of the Cybercrime (Prohibition, Prevention, etc.) Act by law enforcement agencies, warning that such misuse undermines press freedom, democracy, and the rule of law.
In a communiqué issued at the end of its Standing Committee meeting held on September 17, 2025, in Jos, Plateau State, the Guild said it would no longer tolerate the harassment, intimidation, arrest, and illegal detention of journalists under the guise of enforcing the Act.
“The Guild will use all legal means to ensure the protection of the fundamental human rights of journalists, freedom of the press, and freedom of expression,” the statement, signed by NGE President, Eze Anaba, and General Secretary, Onuoha Ukeh, read in part.
The editors called for a thorough review of the Cybercrime Act, stressing that it should serve its original intent of tackling financial fraud, identity theft, and cyberattacks—not silencing journalists.
They also reminded security agencies that the Ombudsman mechanism set up by the Nigerian Press Organisation (NPO) remains a credible channel for addressing infractions of the journalism code of ethics. According to the communiqué, those with complaints against the press should approach the Ombudsman or the courts rather than turning security agencies into “tools of oppression.”
The Guild, however, urged journalists to uphold professionalism, avoid blackmail and defamation, and strictly adhere to the NPO’s Code of Ethics.
Counting the cost: Media economics in crisis
EVEN as they navigate legal and physical dangers, Nigerian media houses are fighting for economic survival. The country’s fragile economy, characterised by inflation, currency volatility, and high production costs, has severely undermined the print industry.
Most newspapers rely on imported newsprint, and dwindling advertising revenue is not helping the situation. Declining circulation, unreliable power supply, and the migration of audiences to digital platforms have compounded the crisis.
The Chief Executive Officer (CEO) of Diamond Publications and Founder of the Diamond Awards for Media Excellence (DAME), Lanre Idowu, described the situation as dire, but not hopeless.
“The media operates in a knowledge sector of strategic importance,” he said. “It should be supported to help oil the national discourse and kindle self-belief among Nigerians. Tangible hope must be promoted by the media even amid economic hardship.”
For many newsrooms, survival now depends on innovation, diversifying revenue streams, embracing online subscriptions, hosting events, and partnering with philanthropies to fund investigative work. However, the challenge is deeply rooted: when journalists are poorly paid, ethical compromise becomes tempting, and the integrity of the press itself is compromised.
The digital revolution has given everyone a megaphone, but also multiplied the noise. Disinformation, hate speech, and fake news have become pervasive threats to democracy and journalism alike.
During the 2023 general election, the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) warned that “misinformation and hate speech constitute a serious threat to national unity.”
Idowu argued that journalism, historically a teacher and guardian of public conscience, is now struggling with identity. “Every Abubakar, Balogun, and Chinyere is today a writer, editor, and publisher,” he observed. “The gains of standardisation and editorial rigour have been eroded. Yet, credibility remains at the heart of journalism- vigilance and knowledge are key for sustainability.
“Technology has democratised information, but also diluted professional gatekeeping. The challenge now is to strike a balance between openness and accuracy.
As Idowu noted, “AI has good uses and should not be viewed with suspicion. The media must learn to use it appropriately and responsibly. Beyond the newsroom, institutional impunity deepens the press’s vulnerability. This explains why MRA’s Longe lamented the absence of explicit constitutional guarantees for press freedom in the country.
“Nigeria does not have specific press freedom provisions in its statute books. This is a serious challenge. Journalists are attacked both in the course of, and as a result of their work, and perpetrators act with impunity. The systems that should give them justice neither protect them nor punish their attackers,” he said.
Longe called for comprehensive legal reforms, including constitutional amendments, repeal of repressive laws, and strict punishment for those who attack journalists. He also urged media houses to adapt to changing business realities by monetising digital content, pursuing philanthropic support, and self-regulating to curb misinformation.
Despite the headwinds, Nigerian journalism has not only endured but has remained inventive, defiant, and unyielding. From the missionary presses of Abeokuta to the digital dashboards of Lagos, the spirit of inquiry that birthed Iwe Irohin still flickers in every reporter’s notebook.
Veteran editor and media scholar, Ken Ugbechie, puts it bluntly: “Nigeria has had over 26 years of unbroken democracy, yet we do not enjoy press freedom because public actors still see themselves as above the law. Any journalist who points out their flaws is tagged an enemy of the state.
But no journalist should be cowed. They must stay resolute and courageous.”
On the economic front, Ugbechie believes innovation is key. “The economic crunch is hitting every profession. So, media owners must be creative in using AI and social media to their advantage. These are not threats but opportunities. Professional journalists who stay true to ethics will always attract audiences, no matter the noise.”
From the colonial era to the digital age, Nigerian journalism has been central to the country’s political evolution, a catalyst for independence, a watchdog during dictatorship, and a mirror of society’s conscience in democracy. But 166 years on, the promise of press freedom remains unfulfilled.
The threats have changed from decrees to data laws, from typewriters to algorithms, but the struggle is the same: truth against power, accountability against impunity.
Yet, amid the shadows, there is resilience. In every investigative report exposing corruption, every editorial demanding reform, and every local journalist risking arrest to document injustice, the legacy of Iwe Irohin endures.
As Nigeria’s media navigates the turbulent intersection of technology, politics, and economics, one truth remains constant: democracy cannot thrive without a free press. And though the walk may still be long, the press continues; battered but unbowed and still trudging on the road Henry Townsend began 166 years ago.
