By Chika Abanobi
On Friday, September 6, 2024, a committee of colleagues and mentees gathered at the Alexanderia Hall of The Colossus Hotel, Ikeja, Lagos, to mark the 10th anniversary of the death of Dimgba Igwe, a quintessential journalist, writer, and biographer. Before his death, one could say that he rose to the pinnacle of a Nigerian journalism career.
He was, at various times, a Staff Writer with Sunday Concord under the editorship of Dele Giwa, later killed by an unknown assassin through a parcel bomb. He was also the pioneer Deputy Editor of Weekend Concord, a wave-making Saturday newspaper that he and his bosom friend, Mike Awoyinfa, birthed in the late 80s.
But the thunder struck twice, as it were, when he and Awoyinfa later gave birth to another wave-making newspaper, The Sun, sometime in 2003. The journalism icon was the Deputy Managing Director/Deputy Editor-In-Chief while Awoyinfa was the Managing Director/Editor-In-Chief.
Following his sudden retirement/removal, he later became the Vice Chairman of The Sun Publishing Ltd. That was his position until a hit-and-run driver knocked him down half-dead, while he was engaged in early morning keep-fit exercise, on Saturday, September 6, 2014. He later died due to injuries sustained from the accident. The incident took place somewhere in Okota, Lagos, close to his residence.
This was why the 10th anniversary of his passing was marked last Friday, September 6. It started with a public lecture titled “Tabloid Journalism: Yesterday, Today and the Future.” It was delivered by Mr. Muyiwa Adetiba, a veteran journalist, and who, as the publisher of Prime People, Vintage People, and TNT (Today’s News Today) was qualified to be described as Nigeria’s father of soft-sell journalism.
Encounters with Prof. Dare, my first journalism icon
My relationship with Dimgba Igwe started sometime late in 1989 after I graduated from the Times Journalism Institute (TJI), Surulere, Lagos. Then I was admitted into the institute, with a Nigerian Certificate in Education (NCE) in English from Alvan Ikoku College of Education (AICE), Owerri to read a diploma course in journalism.
The school was owned and operated by the Daily Times of Nigeria. Prof. Olatunji Dare, former don in Mass Comm. at the University of Lagos, former Chairman of the Editorial Board of The Guardian newspaper, and a guest lecturer at TJI was instrumental to my meeting with Igwe and Awoyinfa.
The man who taught us “Editing and Newspaper Layout,” a course in which I excelled as his best student, was instrumental, not only to my meeting the two journalism icons but also as The Guardian’s Editorial Board chairman, he also played a big role in having many of my opinion articles published in the prestigious newspaper.
He made it possible for me, as well, to do my internship at Rutam House, the building that houses The Guardian and other papers in its stable. The noble roles that Dare played in encouraging me in the journalism profession by publishing my opinion articles in The Guardian and in getting me a job at the Concord Press of Nigeria was such that Classic magazine, published by May Ellen Ezekiel (MEE), on my behalf, later sent him a bouquet of the week, after I wrote about my experience with him, in their newsmagazine.
A letter that Dare sent through me to Awoyinfa who he taught in Mass Comm. class at UNILAG, asking him to consider employing a promising young man like me, initially got Awoyinfa curious. This is because, as he explained, the Dare he knew, rarely praised people the way he praised me in the letter. But the cursive handwriting was his, quite alright, and he recognised it. As there was no vacancy, he asked if I could freelance for Weekend Concord, until there’s an opening somewhere. It was an offer I grabbed with the enthusiasm of someone who just graduated from a journalism institute.
From Dare to Dimgba
As was customary with Awoyinfa who was always busy wracking his brain on what creative headlines to give stories meant for his paper, he handed me over to Dimgba to work with. I need to mention here that I worked, not only with him but also with Dele Momodu, the publisher of Ovation International magazine. He was then the news editor.
But my relationship with Dimgba went beyond secular journalism practice, in that, with time, he came to find out that like him I was a born-again Christian, then worshipping with Deeper Life Bible Church, Gbagada, Lagos. Secondly, we lived in the same area of Lagos, in Orile Iganmu, precisely. Then he lived in a two-bedroom flat somewhere in a slightly narrow compound, off Coker Road.
The compound was known for a lone coconut tree in front of it. At the time I knew him, he was in courtship with the lady, Obioma, who later became his wife. Then a student at a college of education somewhere in Delta State, I was privileged to meet her on a couple of occasions when she came visiting. He introduced her as his fiancée.
My residence was about five or six streets away from his. In those days, Concord assigned to him a green-orange colour 504 station wagon Peugeot car driven interchangeably by two of the newspaper company’s drivers, one of who drove in a way that made demons on the road, I could swear, give way for him.
Dimgba, with whom I often came home in the car, especially on non-production days, would often caution him, on the reckless manner with which he drove. But no sooner had he seemed to have gotten the message than he would go back to his element.
He was simply incurable of this disease called reckless driving. A leopard, they say, can hardly change its skin! In retrospect, I am beginning to see that it was a miracle that he wasn’t involved in any form of accident, despite his scary, hair-raising way of driving. Until he eventually got him changed with a more cool-headed driver, he continued to drive him to and fro our office located at 42, Concord Way/Airport Road, Ikeja.
On production days, Thursdays, and Fridays, I did not go home with him but stayed with production desk people to proofread the edition of our paper for the week. Though I was not a full-time staff by then before my appointment letter came, I had distinguished myself in sourcing for stories, writing them creatively, and proofreading copies so much that whatever was done afterward was a mere formality in terms of the employment process.
Awoyinfa and Igwe trusted me so much that they gave me, The Art of Feature Writing, the first book they wrote together, and a classic today in the Mass Communications department of many tertiary institutions in Nigeria, to proofread. And, in their introduction to the book, they acknowledged that fact. They also used one or two of my stories in the book. If you look at the index of the book, my name, Abanobi, Chika, started it.
Needless to say, Pastor Igwe, was especially proud of me, because, in those days, many people saw born-again Christians as a lazy set of people who usually hid under their religious obligations to give excuses for why they could not accomplish tasks assigned to them. But here was one of them who was as enterprising and resourceful as his secular counterparts and yet deeply committed to the things of God. While he lived, he was always proud to associate with believers like that.
The creative imperatives of changing a narrative
Igwe, who later became the Deputy General Overseer of Evangel Pentecostal Church, Okota, Lagos, an arm that broke away from its mother church, the Evangelical Church of West Africa (ECWA), now Evangelical Church Winning All (still ECWA), and a few others were the ones piloting the affairs of this broke-away arm as at the time we knew each other.
By the way, the breakaway took place as a result of differences in doctrinal belief about the operations of the Holy Spirit. While EPC, the splinter group to which Igwe and a few others belonged, believed in speaking in tongues and other manifestations of the gifts of the Holy Spirit, the purely evangelical mother church, did not subscribe to such belief. That was what caused the splinter.
Igwe and these other members of the church included Major General Paul Alaowei Toun (rtd) (he was then a Captain, Major or Lt. Col, I am not too sure now) and later, Director of Army Finance, used to meet somewhere in Ijesha and Surulere to have regular fellowship.
They did so in preparation to formally start the EPC (Evangelical Pentecostal Church). Gen. Toun would later become the General Overseer, while Igwe became his Deputy. But, in those days, Igwe would often, go for the fellowship with me, a believer who also subscribed to his kind of Christian belief.
He proved to be a quintessential creative writer, not only in the secular world but also in the sacred or spiritual terrain. There was a pamphlet the church used for evangelism outreaches the time it started. It was solely written by Igwe but you would never see his name on it as the author.
It came with a curious title intended to arouse the interest of non-believers: 10 Reasons Why I am Not Born Again. It was meant to address the many reasons or objections folks or people have for not giving their lives to Christ in a born-again way. And, those 10 reasons were squarely addressed by Igwe in a professional and curious way.
As he used to tell me, he was concerned with the way the church or the ecclesia packaged the gospel message for people they are trying to reach outside the born-again Christian circle. The messages, he lamented, were not and still not packaged in a creative, attractive way.
So? He was determined to change that narrative. And, until his death, few of us who worked with him or served under him, either in the secular world or in the Kingdom work where he was a Deputy General Overseer can testify that he did everything humanly possible to breathe life into an otherwise moribund system or way of doing things, to bring into it certain innovation. He did, in the journalism profession by birthing publications that thrived on creativity in every sense of the word; he did likewise in the Church world where the boring order of doing things, including presenting the gospel message to outsiders, gave way to certain, enduring innovativeness.
I don’t know about others. But to me, this is not surprising. One of the things he told me, in our interactions during the early years of Weekend Concord was his English name. Surprisingly, he never used it either as an abbreviation or in full, for reasons best known to him.
For those who don’t know, his English name is Josiah. His parents must have had their reason why they decided to go for that name for him. It could be that they heard the story of Josiah being told in the church or something. But it amazes me how people sometimes can live out the names they bear. According to 2 Chronicles 34 and 35, King Josiah was a great reformer who brought far-reaching changes in the way the children of Israel were worshipping God.
That was before he ascended the throne. Even though Pastor Dimgba Igwe never bore or used his English name in his official capacity, except perhaps in his primary/secondary schooldays, to me, he, nonetheless lived it out by the works he did in the journalism profession and church world. On this score, I salute his courage and achievements/accomplishments. He was not only an icon, he was also a trailblazer.
Parting, departing, and reunion
But after about two years at Weekend Concord, we parted ways. That happened when I left to pick up a job as an Assistant Editor with Life Press Ltd, the publishing arm of Deeper Life Bible Church/Deeper Life Christian Ministry. For the next 15 years, we never had any cause to come in contact with each other until I became a bit bored with the work I was doing. That was sometime in 2006.
Creative writers are sometimes like that: routines bore them. I didn’t even have his contact, didn’t know anybody who knew him or had his contact, didn’t know where he lived. But by reading his profound column, Sideview, that used to appear on the back page of The Sun, every Tuesday, I was able to get his phone contact. I sent an SMS, which was what the published phone contact was meant for, anyway: it accepted “SMS only.”
But my SMS must have looked different, even out of place to him when it came in. This is because it was not a reaction to an issue that was raised by his article, as is usually the case between a columnist and his fans or readers.
In my SMS, I wanted to know where he lived in Lagos and which day I could meet him at home to discuss something bugging my mind and to seek his own opinion on it. Despite his highly placed position in the profession, he did something surprising to me: he did not just send an SMS reply as many in his position would have done or even ignore my message altogether.
Rather, he demonstrated his enthusiasm at getting connected to me again by calling me up, but with a different phone number. Now, it was my turn to get blown off my feet. To be honest with you, when I picked up his call, I did not know who was at the other end of the phone. It was only when his voice came through the line that I knew who was speaking. He asked where I had been all these years. I told him. It must have sounded unbelievable to him. He asked where I live. Again, I told him. In any case, he told me where he lived at Okota and how to find my way to the place. He also told me what day and time I could meet with him.
That meeting which took place at the given date, time, and venue, marked my return to mainstream journalism, after a 15-year break. Until his unceremonious removal, along with Mike Awoyinfa, as heads of The Sun, and later his death, he did everything within his power to see that I felt comfortable returning to my journalism career.
He was instrumental in making me the Deputy Editor of Weekly Spectator, the weekly newspaper that was floated by the company before it died a natural death because of a lack of patronage from advertisers. In that capacity, he made sure I was assigned an official car. I was later made the Head of Education Desk of The Sun, under Mr. Tony Onyima, also with an official car to go with the appointment.
Awoyinfa and Igwe trusted me so much that they gave me, The Art of Feature Writing, the first book they wrote together, and a classic today in the Mass Communications department of many tertiary institutions in Nigeria, to proofread. And, in their introduction to the book, they acknowledged that fact. They also used one or two of my stories in the book. If you look at the index of the book, my name, Abanobi, Chika, started it.
Death, discovery, and disappointment
On the day that Pastor Igwe died from the accident in 2014, I didn’t know about it until a church member who knows that I work at The Sun and who heard the news on the radio through a press statement issued by Mr. Femi Adesina, then the Managing Director of The Sun called to ask whether what he was hearing was true or not.
But the way I shouted as I threw away my phone made the young man regret calling me to confirm. Initially, I didn’t believe what I heard from him and news outlets until I went to his residence at Okota and discovered the sad and saddening truth for myself.
Mike Awoyinfa who shared a fence with him was not around. As you must have read, he was away in London, on the persuasion of Igwe, to witness the Masters degree graduation of his son. But on my own, I was determined to make sure that the reckless and careless driver who knocked him down, whoever he was didn’t get away with the crime.
Through the help of his dear wife, the matriarch of the family, who was in deep grief as to talk to anybody, I was able to get in touch with one or two eyewitnesses who were jogging with him when the incident took place. They in turn linked me up with four more eyewitnesses. I visited the crime scene. It was there that I was shown the hubcap of the car that knocked him down that early Saturday morning.
When it hit Igwe, the impact was so much that the hubcap of one of the front wheels came off. And the driver, obviously sensing danger and trouble, never bothered to wait to pick it up. In all, the accounts the eyewitnesses gave corroborated one another’s, only differing only in the noble roles each played in seeing that Igwe lived through the bloody experience.
But the first shock I had while I was doing the investigation was when all the eyewitnesses revealed that the police authorities had never bothered to call upon them or to invite them for routine questioning so that their statements could be taken or recorded. And, this was more than a week after the incident! Neither was there any follow-up after the publication of my detailed reports. And, till this day, random inquiries show that there had been none.
My investigation resulted in the publication of a three-part serial run, back-to-back, by Saturday Sun for three weeks. I had hoped that the reports would aid the police that promised to do everything within its power to unearth and apprehend the runaway driver and bring him to justice. But to this day, it pains me to the marrow to know that it never happened and will never happen. As I found out, whatever was promised turned out to be another hope betrayed as the “investigation” went the way of other police investigations in the country.
In journalism, it started with Dele Giwa who was killed by a letter bomb, and under whom, the late Pastor Igwe, once worked, at Sunday Concord. But at the end of the investigation, nothing tangible came out. But though man and the corrupt system he operates, a system that Igwe tried to reform with his pamphlet, 10 Reasons Why I Am Not Born Again, disappointed us and interred our earnest expectation/hope with his body, like our mentor, Mike Awoyinfa, pointed out in his tribute marking the 10th anniversary of his death, Pastor Igwe has never really left us. His presence is felt every day, every hour, every minute, every second.
- Abanobi, pioneer staff, Weekend Concord, former Associate Editor, The Sun newspaper, Lagos, and winner of Governor Olusegun Mimiko Prize for Foreign News Reporter of the Year: 2018 Nigeria Media Merit Award (NMMA) is member, Journalists for Christ International Fellowship.
1 comment