By Amma Ogan
The late Dr. Stanley Macebuh, The Guardian newspaper’s first Managing Director
It was my first job after university in 1978, and that first meeting was like a session with my college tutor. As it turned out he had attended the same institution in England, which seemed serendipitous.
There was nothing remotely aesthetic about the famous Kakawa street office in Lagos. It was essentially a grey concrete behemoth squeezed between the more refined tower blocks of Nigeria’s central business district, which served as an outer shell for the giant iron printers that churned out Africa’s largest circulating newspapers the Daily Times and its Sunday sister. This behemoth also had cooped inside it, the other tentacles that completed the leviathan known as the DTN empire, packaging real estate and other sundry titles.
It was huge, it was ugly, it was noisy, it had no female toilet for senior staff, I had to borrow editor Tony Momoh’s keys. Its grey offices were concrete floored cubicles with single windows in the inner office where the oga sat, and artificially lit anterooms where the minions reigned. There was secretary Fidelis who truly lived up to his name, a messenger who should have been named Constant, and me, at a desk with my back to the door.