Associate journalism Professor Folu Ogundimu strode into a campus computer lab Thursday where a dozen or so students were waiting for class to begin. His deep, distinctive voice resonated through the room as he made some announcements, apologizing for being a few minutes late. Then he sighed and pulled out a pair of reading glasses, but stopped short of putting them on.
"Do you want to hear the story or should we just go back to class?" he asked, raising his palms with the question, the glasses dangling between two fingers in his right hand.
"Story!" shouted the students.
Ogundimu laughed and launched into his tale, beginning the story of his time spent as a journalist during a period of political upheaval during the 1970s in his native land, Nigeria. For the next 20 minutes, his students appeared spellbound as they learned about their professor's experiences as a member of the media in a politically unstable country, how his position put him in danger with the country's former-military government and how his job ultimately led him to flee to the United States for safety. The story is one Ogundimu is usually hesitant to share, unless it's being told to future journalists to show the dangers of international reporting.
"At the time I practiced in Nigeria it was under a great deal of stress," Ogundimu said. "The stresses are different today. I don't want to trivialize the kinds of dangers for journalists that are still active today."
Taking a chance
Ogundimu's problems with the Nigerian government began in 1975 when he was writing and editing for Indigo, a magazine he calls "a cross between Esquire and Playboy." His position made him well-liked in the area, allowing him to form relationships with important people.
"I was one of the most popular guys. Because of that, I had a lot of military friends," he said. "We would play squash together and go to the bars. In that process, we developed sources."
Ogundimu said source relations were important because at that time there was much political tension in Nigeria. The country was still reeling from a civil war, which had left hundreds of thousands dead less than a decade earlier. The deep political schism had only worsened after a national census took place in 1973. The census had been a source of controversy because in those days, nearly half of the Nigerian government's revenue was distributed among its states based on population size.
"Our magazine board saw all of this," Ogundimu said. "We'd been in touch with the temperature, with the climate of politics. So we published this series."
The series was to address the concern about Nigerian politics in three separate stories, each published in a different issue of the magazine. The first section of the series, titled "The Gathering Storm," discussed the national census and how it divided Nigerian politics.
The second story in the series landed Ogundimu in trouble. The third story never made it to print.
"We had gotten wind of a coup, about which we were bold enough to speculate," he said.
This speculation became a cover story, penned by Ogundimu and titled "Nigeria Stands On The Precipice." It predicted that a coup d'etat would take place soon in the country. But while Ogundimu's speculation was right, the timing was not - the coup occurred just 10 days after the story hit news stands.
"When the coup came about, I was essentially a wanted man," he said. "I was staying at home. My father rushed into my bedroom and woke me up. He immediately knew I was in trouble."
At the time, the Nigerian punishment for participating in a coup was death. Because the story gave the impression he had prior knowledge of the coup, Ogundimu took cover for his own safety by hiding in a small village about 50 miles away from the political turmoil. He hid for two weeks, but once again, his connections eventually proved helpful.
"When I emerged from hiding, I had a safe contact in the military. One of the senior officers in the regime was a former brother-in-law of my father," he said. "The man gave his word to my father that everything was fine. But in his own interest, he advised that I leave the country."
Through another contact, Ogundimu was able to join the Foreign Journalists Project, which allowed him to travel to the United States before the year's end. But another decade would pass before he left Nigeria permanently. He returned to his homeland to practice television broadcast reporting, but his encounters with the militia were not yet over. At one point, his news station was taken hostage by rebels; at another point, he was arrested for airing a commentary criticizing the government.
In 1985 he left Nigeria and moved to the United States to become a permanent citizen. He said that he's since moved on to better things and that he probably wouldn't take the same chances today.
"We were risk takers. I was brash, young, reckless," he said. "You play the game of high stakes. You have to learn to cover your tracks."
On the front lines
Ogundimu said that today Nigeria is more accepting of journalists. Although the rights of reporters have increased in many areas of the world, there are still dangers facing journalists who are willing to be on the front lines.
"It used to be that if a journalist was shot or injured, it would be accidental fire," journalism Professor Bill McWhirter said. "But now we're the targets. The kind of wonderfully easy, carefree journalistic risk-taking that I always enjoyed, now I'm not so sure what my reactions would be in this new climate."
McWhirter is no stranger to dangerous situations for journalists. As an international correspondent covering a decade of Vietnam conflict and the 1975 fall of Saigon for Time magazine, he knows that circumstances are different for journalists today. He points to the kidnapping and execution of Daniel Pearl, a Wall Street Journal reporter who was killed by terrorists in Pakistan two years ago, as a turning point for the targeting of journalists.
"Your only protection is, frankly, not to think about your personal safety," he said. "That's the only way you can operate. There are times where it really pays to be dumb."
The dangers for journalists persist even today and often, the dangers come not with guns, but with government.
The Committee to Protect Journalists documents worldwide injustices against journalists. According to a report on the committee's Web site, Zimbabwe's last foreign reporter was deported for being an "undesirable inhabitant" in 2003. That same year in Cuba, 29 journalists were arrested and imprisoned. And in China, the lead jailer of journalists, a total of 41 reporters have been imprisoned.
"Any regime under stress will attempt to muzzle journalists in one form or another," Ogundimu said. "In this era of worldwide global democratization, there's a lot more scrutiny on the actions of leaders in nations all over the world to engage in political reforms.
"However, the dangers persist for journalists when you have conflict."
Although the risks might remain for journalists reporting on the front lines, some reporters say press access during times of conflict has increased over the years.
"In practice, the battlefield reporting has been the closest and the most candid since Vietnam," McWhirter said. "We have real soldiers often disagreeing with their superiors. We see what fighting is really like.
"It's clearly better and clearly healthier. Soldiers are no longer being indoctrinated to distrust anyone wearing a press badge."
Because close access can put reporters in risky situations, the Committee to Protect Journalists publishes a list of ways the press can protect themselves, such as never traveling alone. But many reporters find that such knowledge can only be gained through experience.
Maria Trombly is one such journalist. She's a business reporter based in China, who has been in a dozen war zones in places including Afghanistan, Russia and Chechnya. As a former chairwoman of the International Journalism Committee for the Society of Professional Journalists, she understands the dangers any reporter takes when covering conflict, whether at home or abroad.
"It's a huge risk to take," she said. "You have to not only say ahead of time, 'Yes, I'm going to be lucky,' but also 'Yes, I'm going to be good at it.'"
But, she said, taking that risk can be worth the rewards.
"When you're in a war zone, you're doing the most difficult journalism and you're exposing massive human rights violations," she said. "It's a proving ground - one good story can literally change the course of a war."
"If you're good at it, you're a hero in the newsroom," she said. "You've got the best bar stories of anyone around. You come in, you take off your flak jacket, you sit down and people buy you food."
Some reporters admit the prestige and adrenal rush that comes with being a front-line journalist can be a factor in why many reporters put themselves in harm's way. But many agree that the appeal is a much higher calling.
"We're out there to serve the story and serve people in harm's way," McWhirter said. "If you're really out there to look at yourself in the mirror and say, 'My how dashing I am,' then you're just not somebody I want to be in the field with."
Emily Bingham is The State News projects reporter. Contact her at binghame@msu.edu.
