I will never speak ill of my profession. God used journalism to make me a better person.
Through reporting, I sat with kings. I dined with great people and shook hands with my betters.
The profession also taught me how to pray. As a matter of fact, journalism turned me into a prayer warrior and a workaholic.
I once refused to go on annual leave for six, unbroken years at Newswatch.
Journalism is exciting. The profession is a variegated school of life.
While covering events, I used to see different things. After filing my stories, I would return to my prayer altar and pray. Fast.
Two instances will illustrate that.
One day, a big man thundered from his comfort place:
“Those boys are around. Give them drinks. Let them drink whatever they want. I am coming!”
He showed up by 6pm for a 2pm interview. My friends had helped themselves with his “offerings.” The man’s fridge was a sea of alcohol.
When I got home, I prayed for a job that will make me a man, and not a boy.
Another day, I attended the elaborate birthday of an old, big man. Reporters were offered seats with standby servers. We ate, ate and ate. One of the man’s son made a mountain of criminally cold beers. It was a serve-yourself evening.
Some of us had “handouts” as we made for a short, celebrity interview.
Some minutes into the interview, the man’s eldest son showed up.
He should be my age mate then. Or younger than me. This boy brought out money and gave us N20,000 each. At his age, he was a flourishing CEO in Apapa, Lagos.
We were 17 reporters. The boy dashed us N340,000. Just like that! Out of curiosity, I visited his Apapa company. The place was a beehive.
I reckoned that he quickly became a man. I returned home and prayed that God should lift me up. I wanted to be like that “man boy” having enough to keep and to give.
I have always desire to be a giver. I love givers. Nothing thrills me like seeing someone rejoicing over what he or she received from me.
Journalism exposed me to givers. Givers are great people. I wanted to be great through consistent prayer and hardwork.
Hence, my profession taught me how to pray and work hard to make it in life.
God bless my seniors in the newsrooms. Sir and Ma, you are mentors. Bosewaniyen!
