How Braithwaite defied Abacha, military dictators — Akintunde

Breezynews
17 Min Read

How did you find yourself in journalism?

I chose journalism deliberately. When I was growing up, we had few newspapers, but they were widely accepted. We also had popular columnists who wrote well, like Alade Odunewu (pen name: Allah De); the former governor of Lagos State, Lateef Jakande (John West); former governor of Ogun State, Olabisi Onabanjo (Aiyekoto).

I enjoyed their columns and wanted to be like them. But eventually, while I was in secondary school at the Lagos City College, Yaba, I became more interested in newspapers.

The West African Pilot newspapers were produced on my school premises at the time. It was owned by Dr. Nnamdi Azikiwe. The way everything was done amused and encouraged me to choose journalism.

Did you also venture into column writing?

I used to buy newspapers every day. Initially, my interest was in the sports pages at the back of newspapers. Later, I developed an interest in other areas, such as politics and general news in newspapers. By the time I gained admission in the secondary school, I had made up my mind that I was going to be a journalist.

I tried to get into the University of Lagos to study Mass Communications, but I didn’t succeed. Given my circumstances, by the time I was in Form 2, as we called it then, I lost my dad. My elder brother took control. When he finished at the Federal Government College, Warri, I had to encourage him to go for higher studies.

I was working at an insurance company called Royal Exchange Assurance. Every day, I would buy two or three newspapers on my way to work. Even managers in the company used to come to my section during the break time to read newspapers.

So, when I left that company, I applied for admission to study journalism at the Nigerian Institute of Journalism in 1984. It was a two-year programme.

What were the highlights of your journalism career?

I will look at this from two perspectives: whether the lowest or the highest. Then, in NIJ, after one year, one would do a six-week internship during the long vacation. I deliberately chose The Guardian. It started publishing in 1983, and I did an internship in 1985.

They didn’t want to give me an opportunity, because they were looking for graduates. I was not a graduate of mass communication. I was just a fírst-year student from NIJ, and I was not recognised then. But I insisted I would go to The Guardian. It was tough getting my bearings.

But again, I was lucky because the Second Republic had just collapsed. The military government of General Muhammadu Buhari was probing politicians. Two reporters covering the judiciary beat in The Guardian just got interested in me joining them.

One of them was Folake Doherty, who later married Prof. Wole Soyinka. She and Kunle Sanyaolu decided that I would be covering the afternoon session of the tribunal. So I started writing, and they were surprised that I hadn’t finished NIJ, but I wrote so well.

So, that was the beginning for me. But it was also tough to be employed by the newspaper. But I had many editors who showed interest in me. So, I got employed eventually.

Did you continue working in the judiciary beat or find a new interest?

I got employed and started working in the Sunday section of The Guardian. I then got transferred to Ilorin as a Kwara State correspondent.

From there, I moved to many media organisations until I became an editor at some of them. I did major stories that earned me recognition and awards.

However, I left journalism in 2004 for Public Relations, but I returned about four years ago to start my own publication, Breezy NewsNG.

Were you at any point harassed or terrified for covering your beat during the General Muhammadu Buhari military regime?

In journalism, then and now, as you know, we always have one reason or another to be scared because of harassment and excesses of people in power. But even at that, we keep doing our jobs because we are determined, that is what you want to do.

When I was covering that tribunal as an intern from NIJ, that was the period of Decree 4. The law made it a criminal offence to publish any report that brought the government or public officials into disrepute, even if the information was accurate.

Interestingly, during my time as an intern, two Guardian journalists, Nduka Irabor and Tunde Thompson, were victims of Decree 4. They were jailed by the Buhari government. These were the guys I always saw in the newsroom, and suddenly I couldn’t find them because they had been sent to jail.

So, it was scary, no doubt about that. At some point, when I also became a senior reporter, I escaped arrest because it fell during my wedding period.

I travelled to Kogi State for my wedding when the security agencies came to arrest my editor, Godwin Agbroko, and he couldn’t attend my wedding. If I were around, I would have been arrested. There were a few times I was in detention too for doing my job, but that didn’t discourage me. It inspired me to do more.

Let’s talk about Tunji Braithwaite. How would you describe him?

I got to know Tunji Braithwaite around the time of the Second Republic, around 1979 or 1980. I heard about him as a lawyer. He was a young man doing quite well. He began to gain popularity and eventually handled several court cases pro bono.

Apart from the one that was very popular, when he defended Fela Anikulapo Kuti after his Kalakuta Republic was destroyed by the Olusegun Obasanjo regime, he also defended Chief Obafemi Awolowo during his treasonable felony case.

He handled that pro bono as well. He represented many poor people. I recall interviewing him at the time Emeka Odumegwu-Ojukwu had a problem at his Villaska Lodge, Ikoyi that was supposed to be acquired by the government.

I met Braithwaite there a few times. I was glad to talk to him. His brand of politics was not well received in the Second Republic because he wasn’t an establishment figure. But I was interested in him.

At the end of the Second Republic, he continued his activism, civil rights, and all of that. So, I admired him all of that time, and that interest obviously continued until he died 10 years ago.

What inspired you to write a book about him?

It is about opportunity and preparation, which lead to success. I had known Tunji Braithwaite over the years. I loved his politics. I had wished that we could have politicians like him running our country, because he was from a well-to-do family.

In fact, you can call it a nouveau-riche family, but you still see his interest in ordinary people. Regarding the book, I was contacted by the Tunji Braithwaite Foundation, which is run by the family, about celebrating the 10th anniversary of Tunji Braithwaite.

We had discussions, and one of the activities agreed upon was to publish a book to commemorate the 10th anniversary. It is a book that would make young people remember that there was a hero like this.

That task fell on me. I took it with all seriousness. I went ahead and executed it. I gathered all the facts I could, did interviews, did the legwork, travelled, and these eventually ended up in the book. It was a very exciting and interesting journey for me.

I’m happy that it turned out to be something that many people talk about. I have come across many young people who have shown interest in the book. I met a young lady next to my building who came on the eve of my departure to Abuja for the book launch.

She asked me many questions. She had never heard about Tunji Braithwaite before, and I was telling her all his heroics. The fact that the book is already informing and educating people gives me joy.

What should readers expect from the book?

One of the lessons to take home from the book is ideology. Our current crop of politicians doesn’t have it. We see politicians jumping from one political party to another, all in the name of seeking places where they can run for election.

That is not very good for our democracy. One of the things that defines a democracy is ideology. You just don’t join a political party for the sake of it. You join a political party because what that political party believes in also aligns with what your belief, and what you think that you can do for society.

But that is not the case now. Tunji Braithwaite was not a political prostitute. He was quite young when he joined the Defence Council for Awolowo for his infamous treasonable felony in the 60s.

Eventually, when he began his activism and entered partisan politics, he said he would form a political party in 1980. From my research, I was told that Awolowo received an invitation to join the Unity Party of Nigeria at the time.

But he said that although he liked Awolowo, he would not join his party because its politics were old-fashioned. He told him that Nigeria needed something fresh with you people.

So, he formed the National Advance Party (NAP) with like-minded people who were not rich but were interested in making positive change happen in society. The younger generation would read about his political integrity.

However, the military regime of General Olusegun Obasanjo did not register NAP. When Shehu Shagari became president, he registered NAP. The party did not do well in the 1983 election, but it didn’t discourage him. Rather than joining parties, he continued with social justice.

Social justice defined Braithwaite’s politics. Anything that did not have to do with social justice, he was not part of it.

What was his position during the General Sani Abacha regime?

He refused to endorse Abacha, who was planning to transition from a military ruler to a civilian president. That time in 1997, all five political parties decided to adopt Abacha as their sole presidential candidate.

It was only the Grassroots Democratic Movement (GDM), to which Braithwaite belonged, that had issues at its convention in Maiduguri. This was because Braithwaite decided that it was not right.

The GDM still went ahead to endorse Abacha. But he confronted everyone that they should not adopt a military man who had not even told anyone he wanted to run.

He challenged them in court up to the Supreme Court. It was in the week of the apex court ruling in his favour that Abacha died. That was the kind of politician that the current generation of politicians doesn’t have.

Abacha was a ruler nobody could dare but Braithwaite dared him. This speaks of bravery. Many people got killed during that period anyway. But he was fearless. He was arrested several times for doing his job as a lawyer and as a politician, but he never gave up.

We have a similar case in Nigeria today, where you see about 32 governors belong to the ruling party. It is very unfortunate for our country.

There is a wide belief that younger generations in Nigeria don’t read. How do you think the book will fulfill its purpose?

I also used to say that young people don’t read. However, I’ve realised that young people read, but not in the same way as older people do. Digital information is now such that you can read it at any time, at your leisure.

Like this book we just published, it’s going to be available on Amazon, which means people can buy the digital version. One of the things that we are going to do is to ensure that we also get them across to some schools, particularly junior and secondary schools, where we can use them to inspire people.

But to come back to the question that you asked, the reading culture thing is a concern to anyone who cares because you just find that when you are discussing with young people, the kind of things that they talk about, they don’t even remember what happened yesterday, not to mention what happened last year.

But I blame the stakeholders who thought history was no longer part of the secondary school curriculum in Nigeria.

What is the significance of history to the survival of this country?

Any country that forgets its history is doomed. For instance, I was listening to Chief Ebenezer Obey’s old songs and wanted to recall the lyrics, so I turned to Google. But to my surprise, I discovered that whoever wrote those lyrics apparently was not a Yoruba person.

There was a dilution of words. What that means is that our own people no longer show interest in our own language. Therefore, some people will have to do that for commercial purposes.

It is the same situation when they say Mungo Park discovered the River Niger. It’s because we don’t have history.

How could Mungo Park come from Scotland to Nigeria, and go to a place very close to my in-laws’ place, and say he was the one who discovered the source of the Yoruba in Nigeria?

Were there no locals who took him there? We just have to keep documenting our records and reading them to preserve history.

Published in Saturday PUNCH, 30 May 2026

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