I
‘Ray Ekpu undoubtedly remains one of the revered high priests of journalism practice both within and outside Africa. He practices the profession with a consistent touch of excellence. Most of the time, it is not what he writes that thrills; but how he writes. Sometimes, both. Unfortunately, it is the same cherished, bold style that has put him in and out of jail several times – without a conviction’
SYLVANUS Ukafia, a medical doctor and a pastor, has fun memories of his first encounter with Ray Ekpu. His father, the late Owen Ukafia, an accomplished journalist in his own right, worked at the once bubbling Nigerian Chronicle in Calabar, where Ekpu started his journalism career.
The senior Ukafia kept feeding his son daily with juicy stories of excellent journalism exemplified by the man we love to call Uncle Ray. Meanwhile, Sylvanus took to reading Ray’s stories and weekly column in the Nigerian Chronicle with avidity, hoping to, one day, meet him in the flesh.
Then it happened, unexpectedly. Although he told me the full story years back, I cannot recall the exact circumstances, except that Sylvanus attended an event, as a student, and Uncle Ray was there. When Sylvanus introduced himself, Ray took interest, because the surname sounded familiar. He stretched his arm and Sylvanus eagerly grabbed the hands. It was a historic handshake.
On reaching home, Sylvanus kept his right hand in his pocket. He refused to either shake anybody, wash the hand or engage in any domestic chores. Concerned about the strange behavior, his father asked what happened. The answer stunned the old man: “I met Ray Ekpu today. We had a handshake, and I’m not washing this hand” Well, he couldn’t keep it that way forever.
That’s the kind of magnetic impact Uncle Ray and his journalism have had on people. William Michael, in his book: Secrets of Personal Magnetism, states that potential charm or magnetism is the heritage of every human. Through it, people can accomplish missions which would otherwise be impossible. However, only a few know about it.
You just cannot encounter Uncle Ray—either physically or through his writings—and walk away non-confiscated by the aura of his persona. Something will either turn you on towards him or make you feel like saying: who the heck does he think he is! Whichever way your impression goes; you must notice him.
On meeting Uncle Ray, even for the first time, you will either get mesmerized by his uncommon baritone, be captivated by his unhindered, gripping friendly and mentoring smile, or be stupefied by his unblemished blunt responses to issues. I find him to be simple and humble. He demonstrated this towards me twice—in 2014 and 2022.
In 2014, he was a delegate to the National Conference called by President Goodluck Ebele Jonathan. I was a part of the administrative structure of the Conference, courtesy of my boss, Akpandem James, who was a principal officer. After being drafted in as rapporteur and later given a glorified title of media advisor to James, I met Uncle Ray just after the inauguration of the Conference.
I boldly walked up to him and introduced myself. Suddenly, he turned on his trademark charisma. It still remains difficult to know whether he recalled my previous casual encounters with him or he was just his usual friendly self towards a total stranger. With a hand on my shoulder, he pulled me aside with a fatherly smile and a conversation started.
Both of us sat in James’ office for over an hour. The Conference was yet to kick-off fully, so he had all the time for this curious small boy. I mentioned to him my internship at the Nigerian Chronicle in 1985—a place he cut his journalism teeth. I told him how I loved to read his weekly column; and reminded him of an article he wrote entitled: Enter Col. Ahmadu Adah Ali. This ignited a big laughter from him. He opened up.
I asked questions about his exploits in journalism. He responded. He talked about his brotherhood with Dele Giwa and the impact of Dele’s death on him personally; his (Ray’s) journalism exploits at the Nigerian Chronicle, the Sunday Times, Business Times and how he joined and left the Concord.
Then he spoke about an idea that became Newswatch. All along, I kept asking myself: is this the fire-spitting legend himself, so humble, so accommodating, talking to an ordinary me? It was a dream privilege. Then someone far above my level came and dragged him away.
In June 2022, I had another privileged opportunity of sitting down with Uncle Ray for a brief chat. James and I had just completed a book: The National Conversation: Intrigues and Interests that Shaped the 2014 National Conference. Before its public presentation, I was in Lagos to deliver a copy of the book to two people. Uncle Ray was one of them.
On arriving his apartment, he was at the gate to receive me personally. I felt humbled by this gesture. He ushered me into his modest dwelling place with such eagerness and undisguised attention that renewed my positive impression of him. For the next 40 minutes or so, we chatted like old friends. He created such an atmosphere that made me long for a repeated visit.
Uncle Ray has a way with words. I have dreamt of being his remote journalism student. Several decades later, I am yet to secure admission into his exclusive journalism school of bold expressions; smooth language full of metaphors and euphemisms; impeccable, factual presentations and audacious short sentences and punchy words, pulled from his inexhaustible store-house of rich vocabulary.
As I write this tribute, I am again looking at that article on Ahmadu Ali; published in the Nigerian Chroniclestyle book as an example of what a feature story should look like—full of lucid, seasoned, non-abusive, authoritative, non-libelous and instructive language. At that time, Col. Ali, a medical doctor, was Education Minister. As early as then (1978), Uncle Ray had developed a writing style that has remained everlasting—witty and bold.
This is one of the paragraphs with a description of Ali: “A short stumpy man, always spotting a full-stop moustache, pipe-puffing, Col Ali has a round boyish face that tells a lie about his age. Col. A. A. A. was 42 last March 1.”
Another paragraph: “I do not know whether Ali is a soldier or a physician, a soldier-physician or a physician-soldier. His ambivalence is that of a man whose vocation teaches the preservation of life, but whose occupation teaches how to destroy it. It’s the ambivalence of a man who is trying to make his psyche obey two sets of laws, two sets of ethics, two sets of behavioural norms, and to foster two images in one person. It cannot be easy.”
Talk about style, here is the first paragraph of a column he wrote in Newswatch magazine on February 4, 1985, entitled: Snorters, Swiggers, Shooters. He stated: Oil boom. The big contracts. Billions. Billions. Then millions. Then a burst. And the contracts vanished. Since Nigeria abhors a vacuum in the money-making business, the coke man came along. At first slowly, imperceptibly, then furiously. A new life had happened, a style of drugs’ smuggling and sniffing.”
Uncle Ray could be quite picturesque in his writing. Recalling the death of Giwa in a column published Newswatch of November 17, 1986, he captured in prose the picture of a shirt that was ironed for Giwa to wear that day, but which would never be worn because the bomber arrived just before noon when Giwa would have put on the shirt: “The shirt hangs there, doing a gentle dance whenever the breeze blows its little flute. The shirt hangs there, mute and isolated like an orphan…”
Ray Ekpu undoubtedly remains one of the revered high priests of journalism practice both within and outside Africa. He practices the profession with a consistent touch of excellence. Most of the times, it is not what he writes that thrills; but how he writes. Sometimes, both. Unfortunately, it is the same cherished, bold style that has put him in and out of jail several times—without a conviction.
It was unquestionably based on these bold strides in journalism that an award on investigative reporting was instituted for Akwa Ibom-based journalists in July 2021, by Udom Inoyo, a former Executive Vice Chairman of ExxonMobile, in honour of Uncle Ray.
The award which comes with a princely N500, 000 prize has already been won twice. It is administered by an independent body of tested journalists, headed by Nsikak Essien, former editor of the defunct National Concord.
The body also has as members Kayode Komolafe (KK), a columnist and deputy managing director of Thisday newspaper; Akpandem James, an old boy of Concord, Punch and Daily Independent; Professor Ini Uko of the University of Uyo; Amos Etuk, the NUJ Chairman and Mrs Emem Nkereuwem, from Inoyo Toro Foundation.
My mission today is simply to say happy birthday to Uncle Ray. Pardon me for taking you on a mental journey. It is difficult to say anything about Uncle Ray without a little x-ray on his writing style.
II
…Ray Ekpu is journalism and journalism is him
‘Ray remains one of the most revered practitioners of journalism, not just in Nigeria, but across the world. He does not only write but speaks as an ancestor of the noble profession – a living legend’
LET me conclude this birthday wish to Ray Ekpu with a few paragraphs of a long story. It is a story of two men whose paths crossed dozens of years ago—a story of tested friendship loaded with benefits.
One day in the mid-1970s, an audacious young man walked into the South Eastern State Library in Calabar and had his destiny redirected. He made it to the quiet, fun-filled city the previous day from Ibadan, where he worked as a library assistant at Nigeria’s premier university.
His mission was to explore the possibility of a job offer at the newly established second generation university—the University of Calabar. Unfortunately, he was informed on arrival that the man he needed to meet was out of the country.
While being driven in a taxi out of the campus, almost in frustration, he thought of the most likely way and a place to spend his first afternoon in the city. The first place that came to mind was the library—his natural domain.
As he walked into the silent environment, loaded with books of all shapes and contents, he observed a familiar face sitting across the table—a face he had seen in the local newspaper the previous day.
Taking a deep breath, he walked up to the gentleman and greeted him with a smile. “Sir, you must be Mr. Ray Ekpu,” he observed. “Yes, I am. How did you know? I don’t think I’ve met you before,” replied the man known today as Uncle Ray.
With a smile, the visitor explained, “No, we haven’t met, Sir. But I know you. I read your column yesterday. A beautiful prose, rich in words, but not much of depth in terms of background”
Uncle Ray frowned. But he knew the young man was right. The Nigerian Chronicle at that time had no research centre or a library. He however wondered what qualified this bold-faced lad to be his judge. He tried to ignore him. However, minutes later, they got to know each other better.
Uncle Ray, now 75, was the editor of the Nigerian Chronicle—an office he occupied at age 29 after an interview conducted by the late Prince Tony Momoh. The young librarian was Nyaknnoabasi Osso, now close to 70.
A detail version of this story is told in an upcoming book by Nyaknnoabasi. From their meeting in the state library, Nyak—as Uncle Ray calls him—got hired to set up a media research centre at the Nigerian Chronicle.This was where Nyaknnoabasi met the late Dele Giwa when the latter visited Uncle Ray in Calabar.
Hugely talented in library science, Nyaknnoabasi went ahead in his latter days to become a multiple award-winning media librarian, documentation specialist, an accomplished researcher, and author of the widely acclaimed Newswatch Who’s Who in Nigeria.
His encounter with Uncle Ray that day, and later, with Dele, paved way for his employment at the Newswatch magazine—an opportunity that took him to the front row of media librarianship and unlimited international exposure.
So, when Nyaknnoabasi sent me an old copy of Gaskia magazine for a review, it was understandable and even expected, because the publication has Uncle Ray on the cover.
Described by the magazine’s publisher, Dare Babarinsa as the “battle-tested general of the Nigerian press,” Uncle Ray takes the reader back to his early days in the village as a kid when he used to read newspapers meant for his father; who was a member of the Customary Court of Appeal.
He was so much in love with the media that when he was at the Ibibio State College, he started writing articles; and pasted them on the school’s notice board with his by-line: Pressman Remmy!
Moved over to Holy Family College, Abak later, he started a bi-monthly magazine called Nightingale. The production process was simple: write the articles, type them on stencils, have them cyclostyled, stapled and sold! Before long, he was noticed by the school principal who assigned him and his team a supervisor—a reverend Father from Ireland.
Ray’s father had five wives. Four of them gave him 19 children before he died at 50. The last wife had no child. One can only imagine what would have happened if the man had lived longer. Uncle Ray told the magazine that from the manner his father organised the family, “he made polygamy look attractive.”
Dare asked him the natural question: “So what happened that you are not a polygamist?” Uncle Ray responded without hesitation: “I guess it is not too late!” However, he went ahead to describe polygamy as a philosophy that should be discouraged in the modern era because “it has its own downsides.”
For unknown reasons, the interviewer did not ask him any question about his sojourn at the Nigerian Chronicle. From my findings, as editor, Uncle Ray kept a must-read weekly column that put him in trouble several times.
In 1980, he went to the Sunday Times newspaper as editor. Most old staff of the paper thought he was a mere local Calabar boy brought to be their boss. They however swallowed their arrogance when Uncle Ray redesigned the concept and the contents of the newspaper. Within a short time, he improved the circulation figure by 100, 000 copies every Sunday.
Besides the in-house battle which he faced, Dare observed that the roughriders of the then ruling National Party of Nigeria never liked Ray’s icy witticism and omnivorous knowledge. Speedily, they kicked against his column and reassigned him to the relatively unknown Business Times.
He refused to be frustrated. Instead, he accepted the challenge, re-modelled the newspaper with appetising contents and design; and brought back his column. That was unacceptable to his bosses. He resigned. When Dele showed up and took him to the Concord Group as Chairman of the editorial board, Uncle Ray took his column with him.
One day, he predicted that at the rate public offices were being set ablaze whenever corrupt acts were noticed, the towering Nigerian External Telecommunications (NET) building was not safe. At that time, a N54 million corruption case was under investigation at NET.
The article appeared on a Sunday; and early Monday morning, NET building was on fire. The columnist was promptly arrested, detained and charged with murder and accessory to murder. He was later discharged and acquitted.
From this point, the interview shifts to how the Newswatch project was conceived. Ray reveals that he resigned from Concord Group when Dele was removed as editor of Sunday Concord. At that time, Dele was away on honeymoon.
Dare, the interviewer had worked at the Concord with Uncle Ray, Dele and Yakubu Mohammed. He was also a senior editor at Newswatch. So, what you have in Gaskia are insider’s questions and responses. Uncle Ray talks about his relationship with Dele, Dan Agbese, and Yakubu—who was his classmate at the University of Lagos.
You want to have tears streaming down your eyes? Then read his account of the death of Dele. They had lived together in two wings of a duplex. Most times they ate together either in his or Dele’s study. Both used Ray’s electricity generating set whenever there was power cut. Then with palpable emotions, he talks about their last few days together.
Six months after Dele was assassinated, Newswatch magazine was proscribed by the military government over a report on the draft constitution. Uncle Ray and his colleagues were loaded into jail. Another trouble!
One day, he was at the Calabar airport, waiting for a flight to Lagos. He had just completed his vacation in his village. That week, Newswatch had on its cover an exclusive interview with General David Mark; conducted by Dan. It exposed General Sani Abacha’s sit-tight agenda, as head of state. Uncle Ray, who was on leave, was arrested at the airport, detained and taken by road to Lagos and locked up.
Fast forward: Uncle Ray explains to Gaskia how Newswatch was sold to a new investor who abandoned it. That transaction was indeed a sad tale of how a flourishing and most influential news magazine in Nigeria went down the highway of silence; then death.
As predicted by Dare, the interview with Ray is un-put-downable. It tastes like a thriller. I expected more questions. But that may come another day.
Ray remains one of the most revered practitioners of journalism, not just in Nigeria, but across the world. He does not only write but speaks as an ancestor of the noble profession – a living legend.
Many of us are still waiting for that day when Ray will compile and publish his columns – from the Nigerian Chronicle, Sunday Times, and Business Times, to Sunday Concord. A book on journalism practice, from insider’s viewpoint, is equally not a bad idea. Such a book would capture the silent role played by Uyai, his wife of over 40 years; and chronicle his travails—the repeated harassments, arrests, and detentions.
Unfortunately, none of his three children is interested in journalism. They have all moved on to other things. His son, at five, dreamt of being like Uncle Dele and Daddy. But after the death of Dele on October 19, 1986, the boy formally denounced his previous interest. His reason: “I don’t want to be killed like Uncle Dele.”
Ray Ekpu is journalism and journalism is him.
For Uncle Ray, the world is waiting for his memoir. Again, Happy Birthday, Sir.
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