My Tribune Tales
WARNING: This is a long read but you will find every bit of it interesting. The tables I shook will definitely interest you.
It has always been a dream for me to get a nice job in a fanciful way and leave on my own terms, but the dream had always been elusive, till I joined the Nigerian Tribune Newspapers in 2019.
The job I had before that time was a communications officer role with an NGO in Osogbo, Osun State, but I had barely spent two months there before I was shown the door. I was looking forward to a great time but the axe dropped. The days that followed were the most depressing of my life.
I looked at myself again: “emi ma ni, emi Kola Kollington. I’m one of the best there is; nobody sacks me.” For someone who is always pumped full of confidence (you’d know this if we are close), it was a concussive blow. I locked myself in my room for days, with R. Kelly’s The world’s greatest playing on repeat, to remind myself that only Lionel Messi has won more Ballon d’Ors than I have (don’t argue, just get the gist).
I think it was on the third day or so of my personal lockup — an episode Samuel Beckett and other Theatre of the Absurd exponents would have been proud of — that I got a text message from the African Newspapers of Nigeria (ANN), the publishers of the Tribune titles, offering me employment. Even if it hadn’t been Tribune, I would have jumped at any job offer at that point.
The build-up to the job offer
Prior to joining the NGO I worked with, Olamide Eniola, my undergraduate and master’s classmate (probably I should mention that he was the best graduating student at both stages) who had been with Tribune told me about the Senior Reporter vacancies and encouraged me to apply. There’s no harm in applying I thought. I wrote the test, a six-page story on how I spent my night till I got to their company, and I sort of aced it. The pass mark was 70, I was told I had 71.
It was during my time with the NGO that I was invited for an interview. I had to give them some lamba that I had some issues to solve with my master’s programme at OAU. I almost didn’t go for the interview because I couldn’t get a bus to Ibadan from Osogbo on time. I phoned an ex, Ayomide, and she was the one who encouraged me not to give up despite being terribly late. I got to Tribune House on Imalefalafia Street around 3pm for a 10am interview. I had to lamba my way through because I was almost sent back. I was even the last person to be attended to. Bless that girl for pushing me to go.
I entered the board room where I saw about a dozen faces on the panel. I was like, interesting. I sat and after my introduction, I was asked was what I knew about Tribune. In 2019, Tribune clocked 70 years of existence. So, I started out with the normal Wikipedia details but I went beyond that. I then added:
“Tribune is 70 this year, making it the oldest surviving newspaper in Nigeria. Given that many newspaper outfits had fallen since that time, I searched online for what made Tribune survive that long but I could not find any article, even by Tribune writers. I then did some research on my own and came up with 5 reasons that made Tribune survive against the odds.”
At that point, the interest of everybody on the panel was piqued. They told me to fire on. Needless to say, that they were wowed after my presentation even though I made up most of the points on the spot. The rest, they say, is history. It was long silence after that but enough time to remind myself that I’ve still got the mojo. I knew that there was no way I wouldn’t be picked, not after that Grammy-winning performance but I didn’t know the when. And when the message came, it was an unforgettable, depression-snapping one.
My old NGO colleagues wondered how I moved on so fast, getting a full-time job, at the prestigious Nigerian Tribune. Well, if you’re reading this, this is your answer. To show the envy of people, one of them asked me if I was sure I got the job I said. That’s probably the most ridiculous question I’d ever be asked. But that will tell you about the superficiality of people’s care for you.
Life at Tribune
I resumed at Tribune on November 1, 2019 as a Senior Reporter. The ecstasy that got me in quickly dissolved when I was faced with writing feature stories. It took me months before I found my feet while my colleagues with whom I got in together wasted no time in blazing. I would watch (and read) on as the likes of Imoleayo Oyedeyi, Adeola Otemade, Eniola Oyemolade, Faith Adeoye, Ifedayo Ogunyemi, Justice Nwafor, Kunle Suleiman, Niyi Oyedeji, Favour Boluwade and Sunday Adepoju, to name but a few, kept on publishing one feature story after the other.
But when my engine eventually picked, it was a roller-coaster from there. My boss on entertainment desk, Segun Adebayo, was particularly helpful. Till now, he remains the most influential person on the style and efficiency of my writing. At times, I was nervous seeing my contemporaries leaving me behind in productivity but he would always calm me down and remind me that I have the talent to rival anybody when it comes to writing.
I have an entertainment newsletter that I manage today, AfroDives (please subscribe if you haven’t). You can be sure that I took the baby steps while on the entertainment desk. Journalism gave the access and confidence to walk up and interact with anybody, no matter your social stratification. I could knock on any damn door and not look like a fool. But before I grew fully into the profession, there were a few bashing while taking the baby steps.
There was a man I phoned for an opinion on a feature I was writing. The man told me, “You don’t call people and start asking questions without seeking permission. Are you sure you’re a journalist, since when have you been doing this job?” E pain me small, but it’s the price to pay to learn.
I had to learn hard and fast, and that exactly I did. If I needed any evidence, working with Red Media was one. I had applied to Red Media, about two or three times before I joined Tribune. They didn’t even bother replying my application. But my good friend, Omoruyi, one of Red’s staff, had been following my progress and recommended me for an opening they had. By that time, it had become customary for me to ace interviews. Omoruyi who was on the interview panel responded when I asked how I did, “You proved the king that you are.” Who would forget that kind of remark?
As a side hustle, I worked with Red Media, joining the YNaija content team. I handled their Music and Media blogs and it was with them that I got the freedom I had been craving to flex my muscles. Traditional media can be limiting. My prowess came to the fore and I still look back on that experience fondly. My contract was renewed up to four times and I was still re-engaged earlier this year. That’s to tell how much they must have been impressed. But without the Tribune platform, I wouldn’t have cracked that level.
In a journey that lasted two years and one month, I sure wrote a lot of stories that I will forever be proud of. Is it the one about female Marwa riders, or the one about multiple piercings, or the piece on PoS, or the many are mad, few are roaming feature or the report on how social media has redefined employment? Mo try, com’on! My editor, Sina Oladeinde, is one of the most dramatic and creative editors around. Having a first degree in Theatre Arts explains such inclination. He is a perfectionist who drives you to do your best, while adding that transformative touch of copy (headlines) and creativity. I picked a lot from him.
But beyond the sexy, fluffy life, there were a lot of groans, clashes and bashes. After the first two months, we were gradually initiated into the late salary syndrome. Yeah, you read that right. Salaries coming in one, two months after due date. It became so biting at a point that I was left cash-strapped more times than I could count. Thankfully, my uncle, with whom I stayed with during my first year in Ibadan, was there to bail me out. If I noticed that he didn’t have much or I didn’t want to seem too burdensome, Seyi Sokoya was my next bus stop. He was more of a father than a senior colleague, always there to bail me out and quench the fires of my frustration. Such a personality is one that is hard to come by. May history always be kind to him and Segun Adebayo. Fantastic people.
The lowest financial point for me was during the #LekkiMassacre. I was at the office when it happened. I saw it live and my mood spoilt completely. I was already down because I had just N20 left on me. The aftermath left me broken and disgusted. I couldn’t go home even if I wanted to. And when I could bring myself to, there was no means. Life was bleak at that point. The only thing I had was data. Then, Alex Fadugba’s call came in. It was the miracle I was expecting. A friend of his studying abroad needed help with an assignment. I agreed to do it and 5k was paid up front almost immediately. It seemed like the biggest money I had ever received. Jesus and Lazarus would have been proud of the way I came back to life.
There were also a couple of occasions that I was almost slammed with a lawsuit. Thankfully, it didn’t go beyond threats from the aggrieved parties. Ridwan, I see you. Folush, hmmm…
The ONs
I had the opportunity to work with some of the most professional media practitioners in the country. An honour I will always cherish. The first superior I worked with was Laolu Harolds, a relatable and receptive editor. Then I was moved to Sunday Tribune where I was put under Segun Adebayo. He pushed me to my limits, asking me to set 10 or more interview questions from a four-line profile. It seemed hard at first but by the time I would link up with Funke Oshin for PR gigs, I was grateful I underwent the process. Writing and editing entertainment content prepared me for my roles at YNaija, NotJustOk and AfroDives.
What more can I say about Seyi Sokoya? To use Olamide Eniola’s words, “ẹ̀gbọ́n l’ẹ̀gbọ́n yen.” My amiable colleague, Adeola Otemade, deserves a textbook for a tribute. I could open up to her easily on anything I was facing. At times, her urgent 2k would be what would sustain me for the week. She easily covered for me when I was hustling on other fronts.
Daily Tribune editor, Debo Abdulai, and Saturday Tribune editor, Lasisi Olagunju, are very humble and have listening ears. It’s little wonder they’ve spent donkey years on the editorial throne. The confidence you have that your boss(es) will eagerly listen to you and offer you prompt solutions is one of the best feelings to have in a workplace. Suleiman Olanrewaju, the group business editor, is another boss who takes pain to know your name, hear you patiently and give you the access you need. John Bolarinwa at the Computer section is another person who would you accord respect regardless of who you are.
The people at the Advert Section, particularly Pastor and Honourable, are wonderful people who are always ready to help.
The OFFs
The rudest, most arrogant section in the Tribune company has to be the Computer Room. The people there, literally, don’t give a fvck. When Georgie arrives, he would first arrange his playlist, no matter the pile of urgent tasks waiting for him to be completed. After that he would take a stroll to buy a 50cl bottle of Coke. It’s after he’s done with this routine, no matter how long it takes, that he’d have your time, even if you like shout to hell. The perfect embodiment of the people there.
Even though the systemic flaw of owing salaries, sometimes up to six months, has made it difficult to query people, the sheer nonchalance of those computer guys can be exasperating. They would saunter to work and still have to be chased in order to get them to work. They tested my patience many times but I always consoled myself with the belief that I was not in their league and would soon leave them behind.
To add, my final weeks at the organisation were somewhat frustrating. I hardly clash with people, I’m easy-going but with the last deputy editor I worked with, I couldn’t avoid it. How can I send a mail to you, in 2021, and five days after, you didn’t even know I sent you anything? I would have finished and sent a report on Tuesday. Given that Friday is the production day, three days should be enough to read any material, given that it’s your primary duty. But I would still have to remind this man on Friday that I sent him a report that should have been read days before. He would then say “ehn ehn, okay, I will check.” I mean there is no way I wouldn’t have issues with such an antiquated attitude.
Moments
The frustrations notwithstanding, there were some memorable moments for me at Awolowo’s septuagenarian company. One of the things I miss is my editor telling me “Ah, Kola, orí ẹ pé, kú iṣẹ́ jàre.” And he only utters those words when he’s super impressed. His dancing steps after taking a concoction of herbs and tea can’t leave the memory easily as well. I can’t forget the letter of commendation I got in March, nor can I forget the squad’s (Funmi, Adeola, Segun, Seyi and Akin) many visits to the Liberty Stadium joint to unwind.
I can’t forget the one million nights I passed at Tribune. It was my go-to site for solving any overload of work because of the certainty of electricity. And I actually enjoyed almost every bit of it. I nicknamed myself the midnight editor at some point. The frenzy of coming up with at least one story idea every Saturday is another thrilling feeling I’d miss. Ah, I must not forget when I eventually had my payback with Femi Osinusi. Sorry, I can’t go into details.
When I dropped my resignation letter, the words I got from my editors showed the esteem with which they held me and the impressive job I had done. They were sad to see me go. Editor Abdulai said to me, “From the first time I saw your write-up for your interview, I knew you were a brilliant writer.” I tried to hide the blush when we spoke in his office but I just couldn’t. He added, “You write so well and I’m glad this organisation helped you grow.”
Finally
I must not fail to acknowledge my respondents I always ran to, some of which include my dearest Pa Josiah Fasooto (RIP), Bosede Atolagbe, Olayinka Olamide, Afolabi Adeyinka, Adewale Aderibigbe, Seye Olawoyin and Jamiu Adewole. Funke Oshin, thank you for the gigs. I cannot name everybody. Thank you all.
Before I stop, allow me to drop some pieces of advice. Whatever platform you have, always ensure you use it to help people. The rewards wait in the future. Also, there is always a better place and it is on your present job that you can become the person for the bigger leagues.
For the Nigerian Tribune, I can confidently say that I went, I conquered and I left, on my own terms – dream come true.
On to the next level…
