Movement June 12, 1993, stands as one of the most defining moments in Nigeria’s political history — a day that birthed a democratic movement, powered not only by ballots and protests, but by the courage of pens. I was a student at the Nigerian Law School, Lagos, Nigeria, when it happened. I am an eyewitness to history.
In a time when silence could have been safe and neutrality could have been profitable, a generation of Nigerian writers and journalists chose instead to speak truth to power, using words as weapons against tyranny and injustice.
Not unexpectedly, TELL Magazine went underground, and so did its writers and most other journalists and their publications. As a devotee staying at the Igbosere Hostel of the Nigerian Law School, Lagos, at the time, I knew when and where to find the vendors to get my copies.
I was involved, not as a combatant on the battlefield, but as a consumer of the truth to heighten public awareness.
As a devoted reader of The Guardian newspaper, Newswatch, and TELL magazine during those years, I witnessed firsthand the bravery and brilliance that defined Nigerian journalism. Those pages weren’t just ink on paper; they were battlefields where conscience and courage met. The names that graced those columns remain etched in my memory, not just as writers but as patriots and prophets.
While it is gratifying to see the President paying tributes to icons like Dare Babarinsa (TELL), Odia Ofeimun (The Guardian), Nosa Igiebor (TELL), and the late Prof. Festus Iyayi (UNIBEN), and Bayo Onanuga (Concord), just to name a few, we must also remember the others whose voices helped shape the resistance: Sonala Olumhense (Guardian), Onome Osifo-Whiskey (TELL), Dele Omotunde (TELL), and Kayode Komolafe, among others. Their words carried weight. They asked the hard questions. They paid the price. And I was addicted to them.
The 80s and 90s print media revolution in Nigeria was fueled by voices like Odia Ofeimun, Dare Babarinsa, Olatunji Dare, Ray Ekpu, Dan Agbese, Edwin Madunagu, Nosa Igiebor, Bayo Onanuga, Emeka Izeze, Adebayo Williams, Tuni Lardner Jr., Ashikiwe Edione Egom, Chief Effiong, Dele Giwa, Mike Awoyinfa, Babafemi Ojudu, Pini Jason, G.G Darah, Niyi Osundare, Sam Omatseye, Uzor Maxim Uzoatu, Dele Momodu, Godwin Sogolo, Andy Akporugo, Femi Osofisan, Stanley Macebuh, Sonala Olumhense, Sonny Ojeagbase, Mohammed Haruna, Trigo Egbegi, Mtchel Obi, Chinweizu, Matthew Hassan Kukah, Duro Onabule, Yemi Ogunbiyi, Lade Bonuola, Prof. Ojetunji Aboyade, Dele Omotunde, Onome Osifo-Whiskey, and Oluwajuyitan of the Guardian (I hope I got the spelling right). These were not just journalists or academics; they were guardians of truth, lighting candles in a country gripped by darkness.
With my meagre salary as an Articled Clerk at a firm of Auditors and Chartered Accountants after my high school graduation and later as a university student during that era, I recall choosing my daily Guardian plus Sunday Tribune and Concord over breakfast. When TELL magazine hit the stands, I had to tighten my belt, literally. It wasn’t just about reading; it was about belonging to a national conscience that refused to be silenced.
These writers kept the spirit of June 12 alive long after the votes were annulled and the streets cleared. Through essays, editorials, poetry, and prose, they gave voice to the voiceless and strength to the weak. They reminded us that democracy is not a gift from those in power, but a right earned and defended by the people, often with the help of those who dare to write.
As we mark another anniversary of June 12, may we remember not only the votes cast but the words written. May the current generation of Nigerian writers and journalists find inspiration in those who came before them. I'm talking about the pen warriors who wrote with fire in their hearts and freedom on their minds.
Nigeria owes you more than can ever be repaid.
June 12, 2025.
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