Vincent Ifenyi Maduka, is an engineer, who has made a considerable mark on the broadcasting industry. For many years, he worked in the first television station in Nigeria, possibly in Africa – the Western Nigerian Television (WNTV), where he rose to become the chief executive officer in 1973. From there, he moved to the Nigerian Television Authority (NTA) as the first director-general, from 1977 to 1986. In engineering, he rose to become the president of the Nigeria Society of Engineers (NSE) in 1992.
Let me start by asking about your early life?
Although I am from Delta, my parents lived in Lagos, where I was born at the Akpetedo area, not a high class environment. It was essentially an indigenous and largely Muslim area. Oshodi is close to where I was born.
I played or lived more outside the house because the rooms were small. I went to primary school at a walking distance. The general belief was that the school was largely for the benefit of Muslim children because other ones at that time were mission schools. There were Catholic, Anglican, Baptist and Methodist primary schools and the colonial government felt that somebody was losing out, so they built a school that was open to everybody.
Why did you go to that particular school?
It was very near my home and you would readily pass entrance exams from there.
How did you manage to get scholarship to King’s College from that government school?
I think it was a very competitive school. I was taken there in January 1941 when I was five-plus. That school was known for quality teaching. In fact, my first cousin – my uncle’s son – came and spent about three years in that school to take entrance exam to King’s College; and he passed and went.
About everybody I knew was going to go to secondary school from that school. For example, one Duncan and his younger brother went through there to King’s College and St. Gregory’s College. Two of us from my school went to King’s College, and both of us had full scholarship, which was awarded to the four best pupils in the entrance exam. Their boarding and tuition fees were paid. Then I think the next six had tuition scholarship only – their school fees were paid.
It was such a good school. And in those days, admission into secondary school was not automatic at all. In my own case, I had to take external tuition to pass the entrance exam. It was not easy at all, it was highly competitive.
How was the experience in King’s College? It was an elite school that brought students from all over the country.
Yes, it was an elite school. Elite can refer to unduly privileged kids. I don’t know whether were unduly privileged, but we were privileged. I will give you a copy of my book when we are done. I had never had a bed of my own.
Until you went to school?
But in King’s College, I had a bed of my own.
And food?
When I passed the entrance exam, my parents slaughtered a chicken to celebrate; and we had rice.
A chicken, not a cow?
Chicken, not cow; so you can imagine. It was chicken and rice because we didn’t have rice every day. We had rice at festivities, not to talk of chicken. It was a celebration.
The irony is that when I went to King’s College we had jollof rice and chicken every Sunday. I was coming from a background where chicken was a great celebration, just for Christmas, maybe Easter. But in school, it was every Sunday.
So every Sunday was Christmas.
Exactly, every Sunday was Christmas. So it was elitist in that regard, and academically.
Half of the teachers that taught me at any given time were expatriates. And it was clear that we were going to go to university – everybody. The University of Ibadan was the only university in the country at the time.
We had Lower Six Form; that’s after School Certificate in Form Five. If you wanted to go to university you needed two years of A-level. The first year was called Lower Six, then Upper Six before university.
My class went from School Certificate to Lower Six. Some people dropped out while some joined us in Lower Six, then Upper Six. Then practically, all of them moved to the University of Ibadan. We used to joke that they were in Form Seven.
I was going to study engineering but Ibadan didn’t offer me the course, so I went abroad. Ibadan was the only university in the country.
I know you got a Western Nigerian scholarship.
Yes.
In those days, nobody would say ‘this guy is from the Mid-West’ or something.
No, Mid-West came later. My part of the country was Western Region. If you remember, the country had only three regions – North, West and East.
In the 1950s?
Yes. I was born in the 1930s. Yoruba,
Urhobo, Itsekiri, Binin, Ishan were in the Western Region, but nobody took notice of that, you were interviewed for scholarship and you would get it on merit.
So you went to the University of Leeds?
Leeds in England.
Why that university and how was the experience?
Why the university? I had two of my seniors going to study engineering whom I admired; they both went to Manchester University. Both of them were going to read Electrical Engineering and I wanted to do exactly the same thing.
I didn’t know how many universities were in England. I knew there was London, but practically, every lawyer was from London and I wanted to go after their footsteps.
I did not apply to Manchester. There was a joint matriculation board like we have in Nigeria. It was called Northern England Joint Matriculation Board. All the universities in northern England subscribed to that board and you would apply through it. You could name your priorities and they would fit you in.
So I applied to that board. Really, my choice was Manchester because I knew people there, but when the admission came, I was told I was to go to Leeds University; and it was fine by me.
Did you encounter challenges as a student in Leeds?
Not really. They had a student department that took you into families. So, in my first year, I stayed with a family who gave me breakfast and dinner while I bought lunch at school. During the weekend, they gave me all meals.
So you didn’t experience discrimination?
Not really. But one was self-conscious because Leeds was not a big cosmopolitan area. You had a Saturday night hop as they called it, where there was a band playing and girls from the university and neighbouring schools came and you would dance with them etc.
You went to a girl and she would look at you and say, ‘No, thank you.’ But as you were marching away, a white man would come and take the girl to dance. So you knew you were a black man, there was no two ways about it. Sometimes we quarreled over that because it upset some people psychologically.
(At King’s College) my Physics teacher was a Nigerian who graduated from London University while the Chemistry master was a Welsh man. The English teacher was an Irish man. My Latin teacher was an English woman. The principal was an English man from Oxford. So you were highly arrogant, let’s put it like that, as people thought, but you were really not.
You were self-assured.
In fact, I clearly remember one incident during registration in 1959 in a big hall while I was walking along and somebody, a Nigerian who was clearly much older than me stopped me and asked where he could see so and so and I said I didn’t know as I was just a fresher. He said, “What the hell? And you are walking like that.”
When you graduated from the University of Leeds, were you tempted to work abroad instead of coming home to Nigeria?
You needed to do what was a mandatory pupilage to fully qualify as a professional engineer. So you needed to be in the industry for two years. Some industries did proper arrangement and took you from place to place. Some just threw you into the deep end and you would look after yourself. Marconi was a very renowned electronics company; and I wanted to do electronics.
Marconi sounds Italian.
He was Italian who used radio to achieve results. The first radio communication between England and America was by Marconi. He is credited with that achievement.
Bayo Bodede, a Nigerian I met at Leeds, fresh from Igbobi College, was there. In fact, he was a contemporary of Wole Soyinka. And if you didn’t do Higher School Certificate (HSC) and came to the United Kingdom (UK) to do engineering, you would probably go through the University of Ibadan (UI), where you did intermediate BSc before going to England.
He was like an elder brother to me. I mean he made my life there quite easy. When he graduated at Leeds, he went to Marconi. So there were two people I was looking up to – Victor Williams from King’s and Bayo Bodede, who I met at Leeds.
So you stayed two years to do the pupilage?
I spent two years to do the pupilage and was looking for a job in England. Marconi’s offer was not very good but it was a quiet part of England. I rode a bicycle from my flat to the factory every day.
Then I got a letter from the Western Region Government in Nigeria, stating that they observed I had completed my degree and pupilage and I must come right back to serve my contract of two years with them. So I packed my things and came to the WNTV, Ibadan. I had never lived in Ibadan or outside Lagos in my life, so I was practically crying when I got to Ibadan.
You didn’t want to live in Ibadan? But that was a pioneer station. When did they start?
It started in October 1959, just before independence. So they were a year older than Nigerian independence. I graduated in 1959 and came in 1961. I spent two years of apprenticeship and joined the WNTV.
As I was joining, the expatriates who set it up were leaving. So a Nigerian whose name was Oyeleye was practically my guardian and mentor. He was 10 years older than me. He also graduated three or four years before me and came to the WNTV to work.
The chief engineer and the deputy chief engineer were Englishmen. I think Oyeleye was the senior engineer when I was coming in. He went on to become the chief engineer and the first operational chief executive and general manager. So I more or less went in his footstep. As he stepped down from being chief engineer, I occupied the position and he became the general manager. When he ceased to be general manager, I became the general manager. By this time, I no longer belonged to the Western Region. I had become a Mid-Westerner.
How real is the claim that the WNTV was the first in Africa?
It is historically true because I am part of it, but there’s a snag. The French had set up a French Television Service in Algeria, which was not just their colony but part of France.
So technically, it was like a French station.
Exactly.
In 1977 when the NTA was created, you suddenly became the first director- general. How did this come about?
I wish I knew.
Did they phone you in Ibadan telling you to move to Lagos?
First of all, there were 10 stations that had different levels of functioning the federal government took over to form the first NTA. We were meeting under the aegis of the Federal Ministry of Information. I don’t know how it came about, but I was appointed.
Was it the committee that put the NTA together?
Yes. I used to coordinate the meetings although it might be chaired by a permanent secretary. I would work with the Ministry of Information for a day or two while others would go away and I would put things together for the ministry. Also, before our meetings, I would arrive in Lagos from Ibadan and organise and get it ready. So, effectively, I served as the secretary for the committee that was setting up the NTA.
The committee was made up of general managers of existing television stations, along with a few people from information; and I think, economic development.
We drafted our law and structure of the organisation. The ministry tried to get involved, but we were pretty powerful, because we were all on level 15; some were level 16 staff from their various stations. So we decided what we wanted for ourselves. And generally, they accepted our system.
How did you handle the job of a director-general for the first time? You had a huge television conglomerate that was supposed to operate nationally?
All of us sat down and drew up our bureaucracy, indicating how a zonal managing director shall act and how a general manager under him shall act, as well as the director of programme, director of engineering – everybody.
And if you didn’t have enough staff, because there were new stations to hold those posts, this is what you would do. So, by and large, I knew what was happening everywhere. For instance, Calabar didn’t
have a full-fledged station, so they couldn’t have a general manager. They had a man called Officer in-Charge. Maybe level 12, 13 or whatever, I don’t remember, but his powers were limited. Beyond these powers, go to your zonal managing director.
We didn’t have a sophisticated telephone, but we had a wireless telephone system, which was internal to the NTA. So I could pick up my phone, dial Sokoto and speak to the general manager without going through NITEL or whoever it was.
So internally, you were able to manage, but how was your relationship with the government. How challenging was it to operate a national television station with the soldiers breathing down your neck?
In Ibadan, somehow we managed. First, we had a commercial tradition. There was strong politics in Ibadan – Akintola and Awolowo.
And you were there when all the katakata was happening?
Obafemi Awolowo left. I am sure that’s history. He had been premier and powerful. He had conquered the South-West and now said he had to move out as the place became too small.
He moved to Lagos and contested an election to become prime minister but lost. When he was leaving, he put Akintola as premier. He was a god, so he was still sending messages to Akintola. Whatever he was, na Lagos you dey, but for this West oh, na me dey in charge.
If you mentioned the name, Awolowo on television you could go to jail. There was a great Yoruba stage manager who was very famous. When the quarrel was very high( between Awolowo and Akintola) he composed a song saying the Yoruba should think deeply of what they were doing. Akintola people said this man came from Awolowo’s area, so, although he sounded neutral, he was using it to attack us. The WNTV must on no account play his music. He must not appear on your station.
And you obeyed?
If you mentioned anything positive towards Awolowo’s era, you could lose your job.
When you moved to the NTA as director-general, how was it with the soldiers?
Well, the soldiers saved us in the West because when the coup of 1966 took place, Ibadan took to the streets and celebrated the freedom and the WNTV opened up. In fact, that was when a politician ceased to be the managing director. Before then, every managing director was a politician. You had a station manager who was an expert. Oyeleye was the first professional to head the station.
When Oyeleye came, he said this was an enterprise, a profession, so you must have qualifications and must be trained. There must be rules and ethics etc. He tried to professionalise broadcasting.
We had the management board, where all heads of department participated fully. Even to choose and approve a programme for the next quarter, we all sat there and agreed.
From Ibadan, I was taking part in decisions that were not necessarily engineering. There were journalism, programme and public relations decisions at that level. So I had exposure.
Did that help you in the NTA?
Very much. When I became general manager there, I was comfortable. But there was no test to select a director-general for the NTA.
How did it happen? Did they just call you and said you were appointed a director-general? Who called you?
Obasanjo. But your friend wrote how it happened in my book, which I wasn’t sure.
That’s why we want to hear from you.
I was working at my thing and the permanent secretary, who was looking at me, said, ‘Maduka, all this your up and down, what do you think you are going to get at the end of the day?’ I think that at that point they were trying to put in staffing. I said that I didn’t know.
He looked at me and I asked, “What’s wrong with being the director-general?” He laughed and said, “You just came from Ibadan to Lagos and want to be a director-general; you think that’s how it is done?”
I know the structure. I was the substantive general manager in Ibadan, so you could not move me if I didn’t want to move. I asked who was going to be the director-general. He went round and round and I told him to forget it and went away.
When it was time for the director-general to be appointed, apparently there were some shenanigans, and my good friend, Mohammed Ibrahim didn’t tell me. It was years after that he told me, saying I didn’t know what was going on. The Ministry of Information said they were going to bring a big man from Radio Kaduna.
Was that Abba Zoro?
No; the successor of Abba Zuro( Dahiru Modibbo). He became the director-general of the Federal Radio Corporation of Nigeria (FRCN). He retired from there.
He was asked to come and take over the NTA when the system was ready because hierarchically, he was senior to me. He was running the BCNN, which was big. But he said no because he didn’t want to leave Kaduna. He was very conservative. He also said he didn’t believe in television because it was just an urban thing, unlike radio, which he was happy running.
Apparently, he was powerful. He was a member of the Kaduna mafia. Dahiru was very powerful. When they told him to come and be the director-general, he wrote and stated that Maduka was the man.
He wrote straight to the chief of staff, Shehu Yar’adua, who was his friend. The chief of staff wrote to the minister, instructing him to take Maduka. I didn’t know that until years after I left the NTA. IBM Haruna took offence, and in the midst of it, he was sacked. That’s what I was told.
When IBM Haruna was sacked, they brought Ayo Ogunlade, the man I competed with in Ibadan. He was a personal friend of Obasanjo. And if you were looking for somebody in information and the media, Ayo Ogunlade was first class.
You may recall that during his term as minister, the same Ayo Ogunlade announced that the federal government had placed a ban on the use of shortwave transmitters by any state or regional station.
Was that to tame the media and the mafia in Kaduna?
I think it was primarily to keep the mafia under control because nobody else was competing with Radio Nigeria, except the BCNN, Kaduna. The then governor of Kaduna, Usman Jibril, went on air and said nobody would take their shortwave transmitter from them. Then Ayo Ogunlade fired back and said the federal government decided who could use what. It was an altercation of two top government people, so two of them were sacked. Obasanjo was the head of state.
Did you have a problem with the soldiers in terms of how you handled the NTA – the coverage and all that?
I had with OBJ.
What was its nature?
I had my background and tradition from the WNTV. I was not very impressed with the newsroom in Lagos. They would tell us to portray Nigeria as a great and united federation, but I said, “What is this flamboyant language? Why must you talk of Nigeria every time?”
I shared some of this with Obasanjo; and through his friend, he said they should sack that chap they brought from Ibadan. They ran to send word to me and I asked, ‘Alright, what do you want me to do?’
But remarkably, he came within a few days or weeks of that incident to do a broadcast in NTA. Before the broadcast ended, he said, “Come here DG” (because I was in the studio). When I went, he said, “Have you ever come to see me?” I said no. ‘You gave me a job to do and I am doing my job; I didn’t know I had to come and see you.’ He said, “Don’t you have any problem?”
I remember this clearly. I said, ‘’I had problems but you can’t solve my problems. All you can do for me is to give me money, but everyday, you keep warning everyone to keep away because you had no money to give”.
He was amused and told his ADC, “Book him to come and see me.”
I went to his office on the appointed day and he had a charge sheet against me. He said, “Number one, you don’t believe in the unity of Nigeria.” He said, “You told your journalists not to be saying that Nigeria is united.” So I said, “Sir, Nigeria is not united yet; it is work in progress. Maybe by telling ourselves that we are united, we will feel united. And by telling ourselves that we are united, we will not do what we should do to be united. And that’s what I told them in the newsroom.’’
He accused me of not asking the news people to show him on television, asking who the hell I was and if that was my station. And you know he is very blunt. I was just looking at him and he told me to talk.
I said, “If they put you on television frequently (which they were doing), people would say, ‘When they finish showing the president, please call us so that we will come and see serious things. It is my head of state they are demeaning and I don’t want them to do that. People will start going to toilet when the head of state is on television”.
He said he was talking to his own staff and that’s not what they told him. He said they told him that I didn’t like the head of state and that’s why I said they should not be putting him on television. I told him that I would be crazy to do that. He said he thought I was crazy and he was going to fire me.
Immediately after the military, the Shagari government started. Did you have problems when the politicians came in?
1983 was going to be an election year for Shagari’s second term; and on December 31 they fired me. No questions, no answers, no arguments.
What did you think was your fault?
They wanted somebody who supported the National Party of Nigeria (NPN) in an election year. They could not take chances with the so-called professionals, so they fired me.They brought Walter Ofonagoro.
The night before I was fired, Ofonagoro came to see me. I had hired him as a commentator during the elections. Ofonagoro, from the East, a university teacher here, Adamu Augi, a journalist from the North and one chap from Ibadan, were the anchors for the elections.
Ofonagoro was the most prominent because he was the only one who lived in Lagos; and he did a fairly good job. But he got absorbed with the NPN. The night before I was fired, he came to my house about 10pm and didn’t leave until 3am. He told me that they had given him my job.
So you were moved to the ministry?
I was moved to the Ministry of Communication as a technical adviser to the minister.
And you cooled your heels there until the coup?
Yeah. The coup was on a Friday. So between Friday and Saturday morning, we were hearing of ministers running away because they were being arrested, etc. I was laughing because they were NPN ministers. They had just sacked me, so I was celebrating.
Then the military came to my doorstep and said I should get into their vehicle. I asked what I had done since I was not a minister, but they took me to Dodan Barracks and said I was going back to the NTA.
Did you deal with Buhari or somebody else?
They took me to see Idiagbon, who told me that they were taking me back to the NTA. But I apologised and told him that I was not going, explaining that I had adjusted my belt back to one hole since I left the NTA because I was putting on weight.
He looked me in the eyes and said, “This government has come to correct the errors of the last one, so we will take you to the NTA. When you get there you can go away, but our job is to take you there on Monday”.
Was your second experience as director-general better than the first time?
Under Buhari, perfect; I had no problem.
He didn’t want himself on television? He didn’t care about that?
He didn’t care. In fact, he told me that they were watching television on the night of the coup and one of his supporters said, “We must take Maduka back.” They removed him. That was how it happened.
So there was a coincidence?
I got on well with him. He was straight; we knew where we stood in everything. Then we were told that he wanted to restore discipline to Nigeria and they needed the media.
What about (General) Ibrahim Badamasi Babangida (IBB)?
We couldn’t get on.
What happened?
I don’t know. IBB was countering management.
What did he want?
He was just acting for his friends, so we were not getting on. In fact, one of the main issues was a writer whose play we were going to buy over. We were negotiating N50,000 or N60,000 and the minister, Anthony Ukpo, came and told me that the government said we should pay the writer N250,000. I told him that it was NTA budget and he said that was his instruction.
So you were finally retired?
No; I gave my letter of resignation.
Oh, you gave up?
I put in my letter of retirement.
Within the first or second year of IBB?
First year. IBB came in 1985; my notice expired in June 1986, so it was the end of 1985. I gave notice.
You retired because you couldn’t take it.
Because I would be fired if I carried on the way I was going.
Were you 50 when you wrote the letter?
When I wrote my letter of retirement I was not yet 50.
What did you continue to do with your life since then?
I set up a consulting firm for engineering and management. And there were not too many engineers in the private sector then, so I was making a living, even through the federal government, remarkably.
I worked for state governments. I helped Calabar to set up a (Television) station as well as Port Harcourt. As a consultant, I set up television and radio stations, even in Sokoto or Kebbi. I helped NITEL to set up some electronic system. I consulted for Radio Nigeria’s external station in Abuja.
So you became a full-fledged engineer and eventually became the president of the Nigerian Society of Engineers.
Yes. I also did work for oil companies. So I was busy.
You are going to be 90 this year. Are you still working or you have taken a step back? Are you still busy?
I am not working, but I read and do some writing.
I must say that I have not met many 90-year-olds looking like you – walking and really alert. What’s the secret?
I am really grateful that I am healthy. I don’t know what is inside. It is like a car you can move but you don’t know when you are going to stop. So, by and large, I feel comfortable.
Tell us about your family life. I know you are married to another top engineer ( professor of engineering). Where did you meet?
We met in Ibadan. She was a student in the University of Ife doing Applied Physics because they didn’t have an engineering school. She wanted to be an engineer, so she wanted to go to the Ahmadu Bello University (ABU), Zaria, but her father said she could not live in any other part of Nigeria. He was an elderly, conservative man. So, she went to the nearest school – University of Ife for Applied Physics.
One of my mentors, Professor Williams was teaching my wife and I was in Ibadan. He brought me together with this young girl who wanted to be an electrical engineer. We were dating before she graduated. After she graduated, she came and worked in the WNTV as a pupil engineer. She worked for one year and went abroad to do a master’s degree. But when she left us, she became a staff of the university where she graduated and then went to study for her master’s.
And children?
I have four children – two daughters, both of them in the US, and one of them is a physician. The other one is a professor of Digital Intelligence. Then, two sons, one is in information technology (IT), the another one did Economics.
At 90, what do you do from day to day, especially when you are healthy and everything is in place?
Everything is more or less in place. I wake up late and take late breakfast. I generally have no formal engagement.
How do you fill the day?
I read. I try to resist being hooked to the telephone.
What about watching television?
Yeah, two or three stations, and for specific hours – ( mostly)news.
Do you do anything to keep fit?
I don’t do enough. I have a fixed bicycle that I ride, maybe three times a week, but I could do better. I go to my garden here, potter round and take the sun and sweat a bit. But I know it is not enough.
