I met Tony Weaver through Ferial Haffajee, a fellow judge on the CNN African Journalist of the Year panel and a board member of the World Editors Forum. Ferial is one of Africa’s finest journalists, but this story isn’t about her. It’s about the lesson Tony, formerly of South Africa’s Daily Maverick, taught me years ago.
Tony came to mind recently when Nigeria’s Information Minister, Idris Mohammed, and State Security Director General, Adeola Ajayi, asked the press to tone down or remove reports on banditry, now a daily front-page staple. They’re not journalists, and journalists hate outsiders meddling in their craft.
Their June 19 press conference calling out the media reminded me of my encounter with Tony during the early days of the Gaza war. I had written a piece for Daily Maverick lambasting Hamas’ attack on Israel. I spared no criticism of Hamas or Palestinian leadership.
After days of waiting for Tony, the op-ed editor, to run it, I called.
“Azu,” he said, “Great piece, as usual. But South Africans owe Palestinians a lot for the PLO’s role in our freedom struggle. DM doesn’t support premeditated violence against innocents, but sentiment here is heavily pro-Palestinian. Sorry, we can’t publish it.”
That hit me. How often have I written out of anger at the system, ignoring the consequences of my words? I thanked Tony and took the lesson to heart.
Politicians will always offend God. Whether in the Middle East, Africa, or America, they’re usually the architects of today’s mess, quick to blame others. Take Nigeria. The Sahel’s collapse after Libya worsened violent extremism in the north. But the choices of our politicians—especially northern ones exploiting culture and religion—over the last 27 years have impoverished citizens and fueled radicalism. Samuel Johnson said patriotism is the last refuge of scoundrels.
Not everything is political. Climate change and weakened landholding have sparked violent farmer-herder clashes in central Nigeria. Yet, insecurity has shifted from a north-east jihadist insurgency in 2015 to a fragmented national crisis a decade later. Banditry and kidnapping now rival Boko Haram/ISWAP in destabilizing the country, largely due to poor political choices.
Can journalism ignore this travesty? A 2023 Reuters Institute report found 57% of Nigerians trust most news most of the time, ranking Nigeria 4th out of 46 markets. But some argue it’s not too much front-page reporting, but too poor reporting—lacking context, meaning, and accuracy—that enables bad political choices and endangers troops.
It’s tempting to dismiss politicians’ complaints, especially since the ruling APC easily forgets how harshly they treated predecessors who begged for leniency on the same security challenges. Minister Mohammed and DG SS likely recall that the same press they now urge restraint on also called President Goodluck Jonathan’s government clueless over insecurity. His successor, Muhammadu Buhari, an army general and APC patron, did little better. Now the shoe pinches. President Bola Tinubu’s government gets the same sauce served to Jonathan, even as officials claim improvement.
That’s the core problem. As long as the press treats restraint in covering banditry and insurgency as a favor to Mohammed, Ajayi, or Tinubu—not as a duty to conscience, conviction, and the troops—the country pays. When Donald Trump calls Nigeria a disgraced nation, or we’re treated shabbily at borders, or visitors fear coming, it’s not about who’s president. It reflects the story we’ve written and shared about our country.
We may not write out of spite or ill will, just justified anger at those in power. But in a world where a phone button connects billions, our words become part of a shared global story. Many tribal audiences can’t distinguish journalism from malevolent blogging.
When I arrived in the US on holiday June 10, I worried less about firearm homicides—76% of all homicides in 2024—than about trending stories of hostility toward immigrants and President Trump. Outgoing British PM Sir Keir Starmer will be the sixth in 10 years, making Britain—now mockingly called Britaly—look like 1940s Italy. Yet despite press viciousness and political instability, people still distinguish between attitudes toward government and country.
The Gulf states and Israel are different, restricted by ongoing conflict, but still good examples. And South Africa, lately in the news for xenophobia, must make my friends Ferial and Tony cringe. Yet its media has reported this sad episode with considerable measure.
What I learned from Tony wasn’t about denying press freedom or promoting self-censorship. It wasn’t abandoning journalism’s first duty: holding power accountable. It was awareness, a pause, and empathy that weighs the reach and impact of our words, putting conscience and country first. We must rediscover that broken emotional connection with our country—not because a minister says so, but because it’s the right thing to do.
Azu Ishiekwene is Editor-In-Chief of LEADERSHIP and author of the book, Writing for Media and Monetising It.
