Dr Rita Okonoboh, now a lecturer at the University of Ibadan, chronicles—albeit briefly—what it was like to be baptised into the fire of reporting at Tribune, yet learning valuable life lessons along the way. Fresh within the last phase of rounding off a Master’s programme, by some realigning of stars (I really need to shake the hands of whoever was on guardian angel duty that day), I came across this advert. Tribune is recruiting.
I applied, wrote an exam, and presented myself for an oral interview. Weeks after, in May 2014, I resumed at the Sunday Tribune. With time, I was asked to handle the ‘Makeover’ and ‘Relationships’ pages.
The irony couldn’t have been more brutally fitting. I was reeling from a bad breakup, and in no mood to be near anything relationship—or makeup-related. Yet, handling those pages were a blessed and welcome distraction.
They couldn’t have come at a better time. The journey to healing was made even more interesting with the phone number dedicated to the pages. From unsolicited offers of undying love, to ideas on what next to feature on the pages, and the never-ending stream of matchmaking requests, it was one day, one message to wonder about.
Then came the ‘church’ pages. If someone had told me in April 2013, that in less than half a decade, I’d have encountered well over 100 clerics, based within and outside Nigeria, I may probably have laughed my heart out. However, Tribune gave me that amazing opportunity.
Politics, econo.