The Historical Context — How the South Captured the Storyline
Long before the first modern ballot was cast in Nigeria, the battle for the mind was already lost or won in the newsroom. The South—particularly the Christian South-West and South-South—grasped a fundamental truth: the pen projects power.
From the early missionary printing presses emerged media giants—The Punch, The Guardian (Nigeria), Channels TV, ThisDay, and Arise News. These outlets and others stemmed from a southern elite that cultivated a robust media culture, understanding that controlling information is the ultimate sovereignty.
In contrast, the North often trusted in traditional courtyards, mosque pulpits, peer networks, and informal communication. It ceded the modern public square. As one media patriarch once warned: “Those who control the media control perception, and perception is stronger than reality.”
Indeed, in Northern Nigeria the print and broadcast media developed slowly. For example, until the colonial era there were essentially no newspapers in the region; the first major Hausa-language newspaper, Gaskiya Ta Fi Kwabo, was only established in 1939. Meanwhile, in the South many mission newspapers and publications flourished in the early 20th century.
Broadcast media also lagged: the Eastern Region’s television service started around 1960, and the Northern Region’s equivalent around 1962.
This early divergence set the tone: the South built the microphones and the platforms; the North became, in large measure, the receiver and listener.
The Northern Paradox — Political Power Without Media Power
For decades, the North has produced Presidents, Senate Presidents, Army Generals, governors, and powerful political blocs. Billions are spent on political campaigns, yet pennies are allocated to building sustainable communication infrastructure.
This is the great Northern paradox: political power without narrative power.
Because the region lacks robust media representation—independent media, digital platforms, the narrative-makers—it remains constantly talked about, but rarely talked for. When banditry ravages villages or religious tensions flare, the story is often framed not by those who live it, but by journalists based in Lagos or Abuja, through a lens that caricatures a complex reality.
For example, scholars of Northern media note that the region’s media organizations still struggle with professionalism, independence, and resources.
The North may command the throne, but it has lost control of the script.
The Consequences — Misrepresentation, Marginalization, and Media Damnation
The price of this narrative surrender is steep and tangible. The North is painted with a broad brush of “backwardness,” “violence,” and “fanaticism.” Even when its people are the primary victims of terrorism—their children orphaned, their farmers slaughtered—the media narrative often inverts reality, casting them as the aggressors or the “other.”
This distorted storytelling is not merely an insult; it has real consequences. It shapes national policy, dictates the flow of global sympathy, and influences international aid. In the global court of public opinion, those who appear as victims get sympathy; those painted as villains get sanctions and scrutiny. The mis-framing of conflicts in Nigeria has been tied to how media covers crises, often neglecting local perspectives or feeding inflamed narratives.
Thus, a region rich in human capital, tradition, scholarship and political heft remains marginalized in its own narrative.
Why the North Must Act Now — The Urgency of Narrative Power
The era of lamentation is over. The North must treat media and communication as strategic sectors—critical to its survival, not mere luxuries.
A lean but sharp blueprint:
- A consortium of northern businessmen, politicians, and intellectuals to fund and sustain independent, professional media platforms—print, broadcast, digital.
- Northern universities must pioneer world-class journalism schools, digital literacy incubators, media labs focused on regional storytelling.
- Community radio, Hausa-language digital content, youth-led multimedia ventures must be scaled up—mirroring the way media elsewhere have become narrative weapons. Studies show that when local media are strong, social development, accountability, and representation improve.
Because the battle for the future is no longer fought only with ballots or bullets—it is fought with bandwidth. The timeless adage holds: “If you don’t tell your story, someone else will—and you may not like their version.”
The Cultural Mindset Shift — From Shyness to Strategy
A deep-seated cultural hesitancy must be confronted. In many communities in the North, media engagement is seen as vanity, as un-Islamic showmanship, or as less important than traditional institutions.
This is a fatal miscalculation. In an age of information warfare, communication is not vanity—it is a form of da‘wah (enlightenment) and a vital shield for identity.
The irony is palpable: the South spends millions to shape the story. The North spends millions reacting to the story. It is a costly, defensive game—and one it is doomed to win.
Scholars argue that Northern media organizations must embrace “peace journalism,” reflect local values, resist propagandistic tendencies, and build trust.
Muslim scholars and community leaders must start viewing modern media not as a sin, but as a strategic tool to defend truth and project peace.
Conclusion — The Warning and the Way Forward
To continue on this path is not humility—it is a march toward self-inflicted irrelevance. The choice is clear: invest in the media or face irrelevance.
The Muslim North must rise—not in anger, but in articulation; not in war, but in words. It must build its own microphones, train its own storytellers, reclaim its narrative destiny.
For in the grand theatre of nations, silence is not golden—it is the grave of relevance.
The warning bell has tolled. Will the North listen, or will it be content to be written into history as the giant who chose to be mute?