By Femi Kusa
When an elephant dies, every kind of butcher’s knife comes out. It takes a lion-hearted man to face the long knives and survive them. How many people can truly withstand the backlash when they serve their country with dedication, only for everyone to respond with suspicion, criticism, and often misplaced judgment?
However meticulous and well-intentioned you may be, your methods will not always please everyone. That’s why I wasn’t surprised when habitual critics of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu found fault with some of the recipients of this year’s National Honours, announced on Democracy Day, June 12, 2025.
Even journalists—especially on some perpetually critical Lagos-based radio stations like Voice of the People (VOP), Mainland Radio, and Nigeria Info—questioned the honours conferred on their colleagues: BAYO ONANUGA, OWEI LAKENFA, and KAYODE KOMOLAFE.
If you didn’t know their professional backgrounds, let me inform you that they all came from The Guardian newspaper during its golden era, when it was rightly regarded as the flagship of the Nigerian press. Two others on the honour list—Dr. Olatunji Dare and Dr. Edwin Madunagu were also on The Guardian’s editorial board. Dr. Dare succeeded Dr. Stanley Macebuh as Editorial Board Chairman, alongside his role as Editorial Page Editor.
I was personally puzzled why Sully Abu, another radical board member, wasn’t honoured alongside them. I was equally surprised to see Mr. Alex Ibru, Publisher and Chairman of The Guardian, listed alongside ideological opposites like Dare and Madunagu. I will unpack this in my second installment.
For now, let me recall that after General Sani Abacha shut down The Guardian for a year, Mr. Alex Ibru led a group of editors to Abuja to apologize to the dictator. Dr. Dare, Dr. Madunagu, and Sully Abu immediately resigned—they refused to participate in any groveling before a despot. Mr. Ibru accused the Yoruba editors of collaborating with NADECO (National Democratic Coalition) to oppose the very government in which he served as minister, thereby jeopardizing the Ibru family’s hard-earned fortune.
Their exit left Managing Director Lade Bonuola and me, as Deputy MD and Director of Publications/Editor-in-Chief, to clean up the mess and defend Yoruba professionals from being painted as saboteurs. When Mr. Ibru summoned a board meeting to push for an apology to Abacha, Bonuola firmly refused and resigned on principle. Mr. Ibru tried to appoint me in his place. I declined and tendered my resignation from the board and company.
Emotions ran high. Eventually, a compromise was reached—The Guardian would not apologize. But Mr. Ibru quietly sent the Osemawe of Ondo, Oba Festus Adesanoye, to meet Abacha and apologize on The Guardian’s behalf.
Given all this, it’s no surprise that some commentators rejected Mr. Ibru’s inclusion on the honours list. I, too, was conflicted—but I fully support the recognition of BAYO ONANUGA, OWEI LAKENFA, and KAYODE KOMOLAFE.
Let me explain why.
Rebels in the Newsroom
At various times, I was either editor or Editor-in-Chief to these gentlemen. I recruited them into The Guardian newsroom because they were what I called “rebels”—fighters against feudalism, mediocrity, and all forms of societal darkness. By darkness, I don’t mean Lucifer in the spiritual sense, but his minions in the world—those who stifle virtue and nobility.
They all fought battles for truth, for the voiceless, and a better Nigeria. Their work at The Guardian prepared them for the June 12 struggle and the fall of the military dictatorship.
As Secretary-General of the Nigerian Guild of Editors (NGE), I once resisted an overbearing Gen. Babangida. Bayo Onanuga, then no longer with The Guardian, heard about it and wanted to publicize the encounter. That’s how much he hated authoritarianism. It took much persuasion to get him to hold back.
Bayo rarely smiled. His face often wore the weight of a society collapsing under rot. A sub-editor with unshakable integrity, his work mirrored his ideals. His energy reminded me of Duro Onabule, his kinsman and former National Concord editor, who became Chief Press Secretary to Babangida.
The editor’s job is tough—bearing the burden of public trust, staff welfare, and business survival. I always sought to moderate my “rebel” journalists without killing their fighting spirit. I believe Bayo enjoyed that balance in our working relationship.
Owei Lakenfa: Firebrand of the Newsroom
Owei Lakenfa was vibrant, ever-smiling, but just as fierce. A full-blooded unionist, he championed staff welfare tirelessly. To manage the balance, I instituted a counterpart reporting system for management. Editors who fail to do this risk losing both the newsroom and the market.
Why he never led the Nigerian Labour Congress (NLC), I don’t know. When NLC failed to contain the June 12 protests, he took up the fight. Eventually, he left The Guardian when it couldn’t meet the staff’s welfare expectations, though not for lack of effort from the Executive Directors. Many of us were not businessmen, and our admin departments lagged.
In 1988, when the company posted a ₦7 million loss, the owners ordered a 25% salary cut. Owei and his colleagues in Editorial resisted, but were outvoted by other departments. It was messy. Non-performing reporters were fired. Owei left honourably.
Despite his militancy, I respected him greatly. He and his group embodied youthful fire, driven not by selfishness but by ideals.
Kayode Komolafe: The Quiet Communist
Kayode was gentler in manner, but no less resolute. A disciple of Dr. Edwin Madunagu, he was a committed socialist and Marxist. You wouldn’t know it at first—soft-spoken and amiable. Even after the Berlin Wall fell and I returned from East Germany with crumbling bricks as souvenirs, KK held firm to his beliefs.
What Owei and KK may not know is that rumours once spread that Mr. Ibru was bribing directors to keep the wage bill down. This falsehood, laced with ethnic politics, aimed to discredit Yoruba professionals like Bonuola and me.
When I was appointed Editor in 1988, along with Emeka Izeze for Sunday Guardian and Mitchell Obi for Guardian Express, we earned no extra Kobo for 12 months, because the paper had lost money.
I proposed that we budget our newsroom targets and be allowed to earn rewards from profits. Surprisingly, Mr. Ibru agreed. Within six months, we turned a profit and revolutionized the paper with new advertising compartments—real estate, tech, alternative medicine, and executive jobs.
The Guardian thrived financially. Mr. Ibru kept his word. We enjoyed up to three pay raises per year, though the Conditions of Service remained inadequate.
Housing, Legacy & Recognition
I suggested we use surplus profits to:
- Acquire 45 plots in OPIC Isheri North for longstanding staff.
- Buy 9 hectares in the same location for staff housing.
- Give one plot each to the Directors.
- Provide scholarships for children of junior staff (overseen by Dr. Tunji Dare).
Some were left out. So, I encouraged a staff cooperative society, which gave rise to The Guardian Housing Estate in Matogun, Ogun State. This balanced out the Isheri North initiative. The editorial team also received 5% of surplus Monday ad revenue for real estate lunches—a win-win for the Guardian and the Nigerian Institution of Estate Surveyors and Valuers (NIESV).
The Other Side
Despite all this, I left The Guardian board in 1999 with no record of my National Provident Fund (NPF) contributions. The paltry ₦109,000 I saw in my IBTC account reportedly came from my Daily Times days. I can’t even access it because I lack a 1971 employment letter.
FEMI KUSA was at various times Editor,Director of Publication/ Editor-in-Chief of THE GUARDIAN NEWSPAPER,and Editorial Director/ Editor-in-Chief of THE COMET NEWSPAPER. Currently, he keeps a
