In a world where seeing is no longer believing, the art of protecting reputation has become a high-stakes battle against machines designed to deceive. This was the urgent message delivered by Vice President Kashim Shettima on Thursday in Abuja, as he opened the Duke Masterclass on Definitive Strategies in Robust Crisis Management. Standing before an audience of communication professionals, policymakers, and business leaders, Shettima painted a sobering picture of the modern information landscape—one where fabricated videos, cloned voices, and manipulated images can go viral in minutes, destroying years of trust before the truth even has a chance to emerge. “If a photograph can be manipulated, if a voice can be cloned, and a video can be fabricated,” he warned, a simple social media prompt could make an innocent person appear to have said or done something that never happened. The implications are profound for government institutions, private enterprises, and public figures alike. When falsehood travels at the speed of light and truth is still lacing its boots, reputation management can no longer wait for a crisis to erupt before springing into action. Shettima’s message was clear: the digital age has made misinformation not just a nuisance, but a fundamental threat to public trust, and the only way to survive is to build systems of verification and honest communication long before disaster strikes.
Expanding on his warning, the Vice President acknowledged that Nigeria’s digital revolution has brought remarkable opportunities—broader access to commerce, financial services, information, and civic participation. Yet with those benefits comes a darker responsibility: citizens and institutions must now learn to separate credible evidence from deliberate digital manipulation. He argued forcefully that reputation management can no longer be treated as an afterthought, a clean-up operation mounted only after the damage is already done. Instead, organisations must put in place standing mechanisms for verifying claims, correcting false narratives quickly but carefully, and communicating through channels the public actually trusts. Crucially, Shettima cautioned that speed must never eclipse accuracy. A response that is hasty and ill-considered can wound an institution just as severely as a delayed one. “The strongest defence against misinformation,” he affirmed, “is a consistent record of openness, competence and integrity.” He also tied this challenge to Nigeria’s economic reforms, observing that the success of government policies depends not only on their design but on how effectively they are explained and understood. He urged the media, professionals, and the middle class to step up as translators of complex economic issues—not as uncritical cheerleaders for the government, nor as dismissive critics of public concerns, but as honest brokers willing to engage constructively with difficult changes. In his vision, clear-eyed scrutiny and informed public participation are not obstacles to governance but essential ingredients for building trust, sustaining confidence, and ensuring that economic reforms benefit everyone. He further pointed to finance, agriculture, creative industries, oil and gas, real estate, and the digital economy as fields teeming with investment potential—potential that can only be unlocked with improvements in electricity, security, transport, education, access to finance, and institutional strength.
The event also offered a powerful reminder from one of Africa’s most seasoned diplomats. Chief Emeka Anyaoku, a former Commonwealth Secretary-General, spoke with quiet gravity about a danger that often goes overlooked in crisis management: the timing of communication. Drawing on years of international peacemaking experience, Anyaoku warned that mistimed public statements could just as easily wreck a negotiation as a deliberate act of bad faith. He urged mediators to treat their disclosures with the same care they would give a fragile ceasefire, knowing that sharing too much too soon can harden positions, inflame supporters, and close the narrow windows in which compromise becomes possible. For Anyaoku, successful conflict resolution is a delicate craft. It requires a deep understanding of the root causes of a dispute, a clear map of the principal actors and their motivations, and a keen awareness of the influences pressing on them from within their own circles. He stressed that leaders are rarely isolated—they are surrounded by advisors, allies, and interest groups whose support may determine whether an agreement holds. The mediator must therefore learn not only what divides the parties but also what those closest to them need to hear, and when. Transparency, he made clear, is valuable, but disclosure without strategic judgment can be a destructive instrument. His remarks complemented Shettima’s warning with an elegant precision: in a world of rapid narratives and unforgiving public memory, the decision to speak is as important as the words themselves.
No discussion of reputation would be complete without addressing the foundation upon which it rests. Mr. Kola Adesina, Chairman of AXA Mansard and Group Managing Director of Sahara Power Group, brought the conversation down to earth with a blunt and memorable truth: reputation cannot be bought, faked, or rescued by titles and wealth. It is earned through consistent performance, honest character, and the goodwill of those who depend on you. Adesina observed that in moments of crisis, people do not judge institutions by what their glossy reports say about themselves, but by their decisions, their behaviour, and their willingness to say, “We got this wrong.” He described crisis as an unavoidable feature of personal and corporate life, making it essential for leaders to learn from their own errors instead of endlessly repeating them. Using Nigeria’s electricity sector as a vivid example, he noted that when a customer flips the switch, they only care whether the light comes on—not about the technical explanations, the maintenance schedules, or the excuses offered by operators. Service delivery, not words, defines institutional performance. Adesina extended this logic to the public sphere, warning that corruption, compromised standards, and decisions driven by private gain do not simply harm an organisation; they poison the wider public’s trust and can even cost lives—as when a road is built cheaply or a hospital is neglected for profit.
Adesina continued by exploring the relationship between integrity and credibility, a bond he insisted cannot be stretched without breaking. He told the audience that trust is the currency that makes corporate reports acceptable and public disclosures believable. No amount of polished communication can overcome a lingering suspicion that the numbers have been cooked or the facts spun. If stakeholders sense that the underlying truth has been manipulated, even the most elegant presentation becomes worthless. That is why, in his view, integrity must remain the bedrock of any reputation worth keeping. He urged leaders to ask themselves three uncomfortable questions: What is my organisation actually known for? What conduct could destroy the public’s confidence in it? And are my daily decisions building credibility or chipping away at it? He reminded them that trust is built before the storm, not during it. Those who spend their calm seasons delivering on promises and owning their failures will find they have reserves of goodwill to draw on when adversity arrives. Those who rely on excuses and image management will discover, too late, that public confidence cannot be manufactured on demand. Adesina’s message was a challenge to everyone in the room: examine your conduct, not just your communications strategy, because reputation is not what you say about yourself—it is what your actions prove you to be.
The masterclass itself was the brainchild of the Duke of Shomolu Foundation, whose chairman, Mr. Joseph Edgar, explained that the initiative was designed to prepare individuals and organisations not just to react to crises but to anticipate them. He described the training as a complement to the foundation’s creative use of theatre to foster social cohesion and strengthen public engagement—because story, performance, and narrative are central to how societies process change and rebuild trust. Together, the speakers painted a coherent and urgent picture of modern crisis management. From Shettima’s warnings about deepfakes and the destructive velocity of misinformation, to Anyaoku’s insistence on strategic timing in delicate negotiations, to Adesina’s unyielding focus on integrity as the bedrock of credibility, one central theme emerged: in an age of manufactured unreality, the most resilient institutions will be those rooted in genuine openness, disciplined judgment, and authentic service. They will not merely survive the storm of falsehoods; they will stand as quiet, steady landmarks of truth in a swirling sea of distortions. The ultimate measure of success, as the Vice President reminded the audience, will not be applause or publicity, but stronger institutions, restored public trust, and lives genuinely improved. In a time when a single fabricated clip can topple a reputation, that is a standard worth fighting for—not with louder voices, but with deeper integrity, smarter strategies, and the courage to believe that honesty, done properly and communicated wisely, remains the most powerful crisis-management tool of all.

