I knew Sam NDA-Isaiah long before I got to meet him. Some of my colleagues in The Punch Newspaper, including Simon Reef Musa had joined his newspaper, the Leadership Group when it started.
But in 2011, shortly after I completed a call of duty at the Federal Ministry of Lands, Housing and Urban Development where the then Minister, Chief Nduese Essien, had appointed me SA Media and Administration, I was invited to join the House of Sam.
At that time, one of my former bosses, Azubuike Ishiekwene was the MD of the Leadership Group.
Azu as we all call him (please don’t tell him I also call him Azu, because I have never called him anything except Sir) had reached out to me to join him as he sought to reposition the newspaper and expand both its business and influence in the country.
Trust me about giving conditions before I accept a job. This time it was a single condition and a simple one too. I won’t disclose it here anyway.
My boss accepted the condition and presto, I reported to work on September 11, 2011.
I was engaged as the Head of Investigation and served all the titles.
A few days after I started work, I met Mr. Sam in a most weird manner.
I had just arrived the office and about entering the newsroom when I saw reporters, proof readers and other staff scampering in every direction. Some pretended to be busy and others dashed into the deputy editors’ room.
It was as if a ghost had appeared and everyone was running for their lives except me. I asked one of the staff who just collided with me as I made to enter my office, “What’s happening here.”
“Chairman is coming,” and he dashed into the office I shared with two other senior colleagues.
I couldn’t understand why people were running because the Chairman was walking towards the newsroom and so I dropped my laptop bag and went back to the newsroom and met Mr. Sam talking to a staff he had given something to do for him.
He had just finished talking to the fellow and turned to walk out when I got to him.
“Good morning Sir,” I greeted him and he grunted a wry response, staring at me from head to toe.
As he was about walking away, I trailed him and asked, “Why are people running away from you Sir.”
He turned and looked at me and continued walking away torwards his office. He didn’t say a word and didn’t seem bothered by my question.
I stood there watching as some of the staff who fled the newsroom returned to their seats and continued with what they were doing before the rat race.
I didnt see Mr. Sam again until a week later, when a lady who introduced herself as chairman’s secretary came to my office and told me the Chairman wanted to see me immediately.
I got to his expansive and sparkling office with a giant-size table and so many books neatly stacked on shelves and arranged on the table and even on the mini conference table.
He sat at one end of the room spotting a simple white bubba and shokoto and a red cap, a seize slightly bigger than his head. Not your regular Igbo red cap though.
“C-c-come in and si-si-sit down here,” he stammered.
I sat down and his phone rang almost immediately and he picked and started a conversation with whoever was on the other side of the line for over 30 minutes.
I became uncomfortable and he saw it all over me but behaved as if I never existed. He had a good laugh with his caller and I was surprised the man whose presence terrorised people could be this friendly and down to earth.
I kept my cool and waited until he finished with his caller and made two more calls.
“I am so-so-so-sorry I kept you long. I had been expecting tha tha that call for days now,” he said stammering and the smile on his face faded and he faced me with that very serious and business-like countenance. Sam was a stammerer with swagger.
Continuing he said, “You’re Ibanga, one of our new staff. I have see see seen what you have been doing and I am imp imp impressed and I I I I want you to do more.”
I licked my lips and mumbled, “Thank you Sir,” just as he picked two books from his table and pushed them to me.
“Do you like reading,” he asked and without waiting for an answer, told me he has promoted me from a deputy editor investigations to editor, Government, a new publication on the Leadership brand.
I declined the offer and insisted I was okay with my position as head of investigations but Mr. Sam had finished his discussion with me and was doing something else while I sat there like a recalcitrant boy who had just offended his father.
Two weeks later, Mr. Sam had set up and equipped an office and directed that I should be assisted to move there and start work on the new publication.
He gave me a free hand to pick staff from the other titles and even hire fresh hands but placed a ceiling on the number I could deploy.
He gave me power on the one hand and took it on the other. At the end of the day, I didnt have enough staff to birth the new paper and had to do the job of editor, reporter, proofreader and creative director.
But Sam was bent on pushing Government out and assigned a master artist, Eazy to assist with the design as I develop the concept he gave me verbally.
As I was struggling to set up The Government
Sam clocked 50 and during a meeting of the editors to discuss the celebration, it was agreed that his profile should be written to be published on his birthday.
Sam again picked on me and the meeting agreed I should write the Chairman’s profile.
As an independent-minded journalist, writing the profile of one’s employer didn’t come easy because I don’t do eye-service or sycophancy.
At a meeting with the CEO then, Mr. Abraham NDA-Isaiah, I insisted I will not write the profile unless I extracted a promise that Mr. Sam will not interfere in my work.
Mr. Abraham took me before his elder brother and told him I wanted a promise he will not change even a word from my original script and Chairman looked at me for close to three minutes and then asked to know why I was pushing for independence while still working for him.
I told him I want to do a thorough job of telling his story truthfully, objectively and creatively without borders.
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And he said, “Go ahead. I won’t interfere but you must be objective and truthful as you say.”
True. Sam didn’t interfere and Mr. Abraham did not too. I interviewed anyone I knew could tell a story about Sam. I wanted the good, the bad and the ugly.
After speaking with so many persons who had something to say about my boss, including his childhood friends, primary and secondary school mates, pastor who wedded him, father, mother, wife, bestman and all, I was ready to face Mr. Sam.
During a long interview, I confronted Mr. Sam about what people said about him and particularly the father who said he has problems with his temperament.
Sam stammered hard and long trying to explain away the issue but he admitted he has been struggling with his temperament and needed to do more.
I submitted the profile for publication and it was published without any interference from anyone.
Sam didn’t complain about it even though I wrote a few things he didnt totally like. He had given me his word and he stuck to it.
He only called me to his office a day after his birthday to say people loved the way I penned the profile and even said the publisher of Blueprint Newspaper has asked him to appoint me his official biographer.
He laughed and shook my hand and gave me one more book as I left his office that day.
Sam gave me all the support to publish Leadership Government and at the time we hit the streets, it was one of the best publications from the Group.
He doesn’t shower praises on you easily but when he tells you, people say you did a good job, it means he appreciates you to high heavens.
On June 4, 2012, I resigned from Leadership because of a major disagreement I had with Sam and during a vacation arranged for me by my wife in Ghana, I started a book I titled-
Letter To Masa.
If you remove A from the word: MASA and read it from the right to the left, you will see the word- SAM.
I had started a fable about a young boy who surmounted debilitating odds to become a man just to face principalities in the workplace.
I haven’t finish the book. I can’t even explain why but sadly, Sam has ended his very eventful journey.
Good night Sam. You were human and had your very strong points and weaknesses too.
But you were greatly misunderstood because long after I left the Leadership Group, you still treated me like your son, your brother and a colleague.
I wish your full story will be told someday.
Good night Boss. Good night Sam. God bless you and keep your soul.
