At a moment when falsehoods travel at the speed of a click and truth often labours to catch its breath, Motunrayo Alaka, Executive Director and Chief Executive Officer of the Wole Soyinka Centre for Investigative Journalism, stood before Nigeria’s broadcast professionals and asked them to do something both simple and difficult: verify. Speaking in Bauchi State at the third yearly national conference of the Society of Nigerian Broadcasters (SNB), Alaka did not offer comfort. She painted a picture of an information environment growing more complex by the day, where technology has made the production and circulation of false information easier than ever, and where regulatory bodies are demanding greater professionalism even as important questions are raised about the boundaries of regulation and media freedom. The conference theme, “Responsible broadcasting in an election year: Countering misinformation, promoting peace and strengthening democracy,” was not merely a slogan. It was a summons. Alaka argued that misinformation is attacking truth itself, and truth is struggling to keep up, not because it lacks evidence or argument, but because falsehood often arrives better dressed, more emotionally compelling, and more easily shared. In such an environment, she insisted, broadcasters cannot afford to be passive transmitters of content. They must verify not just the content they air, but the context in which that content is received. They must understand that a rumour repeated on air becomes a fact in the minds of some listeners, and that a story taken out of context can do as much damage as a story wholly invented. Her message was a call for intellectual rigour, moral courage, and institutional discipline, reminding broadcasters that the microphone is not merely a tool for speaking, but also a tool for listening, questioning, and protecting the fragile bond of public trust.
Alaka went on to remind her audience why broadcasting still matters so profoundly, even in an age of extraordinary digital disruption. Broadcasting, she observed, reaches people where they are. A farmer bent over a radio in the early morning can receive vital information while working; a trader can listen to the news between customers; a driver can catch a discussion on the road; a young person can watch a programme on a phone; a community can gather around a single radio set; a family can sit together before a television screen. Unlike many digital platforms that require literacy, connectivity, and disposable income, broadcasting speaks across levels of literacy, geography, language, and income. It is, she argued, one of the most accessible communication technologies ever created. But she did not stop at celebrating the medium’s reach. She insisted that the broadcaster is a bridge: a bridge between citizens and institutions, between policy and lived experience, between power and accountability, between conflict and dialogue, between information and understanding, between the present and the historical memory of a people, and ultimately between the citizen and democracy. A bridge, she implied, is not a wall and not a filter. It is a structure that must carry traffic in both directions, and it must be strong enough to bear the weight of difficult truths. She called for broadcasters who will follow the money, question the official version, examine regulatory failure, investigate the abuse of power, expose exploitation, and return to stories long after the headlines have disappeared. This is the deeper professionalism she envisions: a journalism that is not satisfied with surfaces, that does not simply relay press releases, and that understands that the most important story is often the one nobody is telling because it is inconvenient, complicated, or easily ignored.
From that broad vision, Alaka moved to practical wisdom, offering five ways broadcasters can be socially responsible. The first is to verify before you air, especially when a story confirms what you already believe. She warned that the most persuasive misinformation is often the claim that fits neatly into an existing political, ethnic, religious, or ideological narrative. This is precisely when professional scepticism becomes most important, because the human mind is naturally drawn to information that reinforces its own assumptions. Fact-checking organisations can support newsroom verification, she acknowledged, but verification must ultimately remain a newsroom discipline. It cannot be outsourced entirely. It must be built into the routines of reporting, editing, and producing. The second responsibility is to protect the people who make broadcasting possible: journalists in the field. Every station sending reporters, correspondents, camera operators, or producers into the field during an election cycle, she argued, should have a documented safety protocol. That protocol should include communication and check-in arrangements, emergency contacts, legal support, basic risk assessment, and clear guidance on when a journalist should withdraw. Safety, she insisted, should be treated as part of the cost of professional journalism, not as an optional extra. A broadcaster who sends a reporter into danger without preparation is not brave; that broadcaster is negligent. Her words carried the weight of experience, and they underscored a simple truth: journalism cannot serve democracy if journalists themselves are not safe.
The third responsibility Alaka offered was to give citizens meaningful access to information about political choices. Fairness, she said, is more than allocating airtime. It means giving citizens enough information to understand candidates, their records, their policies, their priorities, and their plans. It means asking comparable questions of people seeking comparable offices, examining manifestoes, checking claims, allowing candidates to respond, and helping audiences distinguish political promises from demonstrated evidence. This is a demanding vision of election coverage, one that moves beyond horse-race reporting, beyond gaffes and crowd sizes, and toward substantive accountability. The fourth responsibility was no less important: broadcasters must distinguish clearly between news, analysis, and opinion. Commentary has a legitimate place in broadcasting. Analysts have a legitimate place. Presenters can have perspectives. What matters, Alaka insisted, is clarity. Audiences should know when they are receiving verified news, informed analysis, expert interpretation, or opinion. That distinction strengthens trust. When lines blur, when opinion is dressed as fact and analysis is disguised as neutrality, the public loses its ability to navigate the information landscape. Alaka’s call is not for a sterile, tone-deaf broadcasting culture. It is for honest labelling, transparent framing, and a deep respect for the audience’s intelligence. People can handle disagreement; what they cannot handle is deception about what they are being asked to accept. In an election year, this clarity is not merely a professional nicety. It is a public service.
Turning to the future, Alaka acknowledged that artificial intelligence presents serious challenges, but she also saw opportunities. AI, she said, can assist with routine work, support transcription, translation, archive searches, data organisation, monitoring, research assistance, and the production of explainers. It can help understaffed newsrooms work more efficiently, produce multilingual content, and transform complex information into accessible formats. It can potentially free journalists to spend more time on the work that gives journalism its human value: building relationships, understanding communities, cultivating sources, exercising judgement, verifying claims, and investigating power. She expressed enthusiasm for what might be possible, imagining broadcasters using AI-assisted production to create high-quality educational content on Nigerian history, culture, science, civic education, agriculture, financial literacy, youth development, and public policy. She imagined programmes that explain subjects taught in schools in accessible language, explainers that help citizens understand the national budget, public procurement, legislation, electoral procedures, or how government policy affects everyday life. She noted that some of this is already happening, pointing to Tingo AI Radio 102.5 FM in Lagos, described as Africa’s first fully AI-powered radio station, as evidence of how quickly the boundaries of broadcasting are changing. These developments, she said, are interesting and must be interrogated carefully, with greater clarity sought while ensuring that ethics remains central as broadcasters adapt and innovate. In her view, the answer to misinformation is not to retreat from technology but to harness it responsibly, keeping human judgement at the centre and treating ethical commitment as non-negotiable.
The conference closed with a renewed sense of purpose. Alaka invited everyone gathered in Bauchi to see the moment as an opportunity to renew their commitment to the highest possibilities of broadcasting, and to the responsibility that comes with being heard by millions. At the same time, the Society of Nigerian Broadcasters made a significant institutional decision, re-electing the immediate past Vice-Chancellor of Federal University Kashere, Gombe State, Professor Umaru Pate, as its President for another two years. His re-election was unanimous, a powerful signal of the trust members placed in his leadership. In his acceptance speech, Professor Pate thanked his colleagues for their confidence and urged them to remain committed to ethical and responsible broadcasting. His words echoed Alaka’s own: the challenges of the information age are real, misinformation is dangerous, and the future of Nigerian democracy depends, in no small part, on the courage and integrity of those who hold the microphone. Together, the gathering in Bauchi offered not just a diagnosis of what is wrong, but a path forward. Verification, safety, substantive coverage, clarity, ethical innovation, and institutional continuity: these are the building blocks of a broadcasting culture that can counter misinformation, promote peace, and strengthen democracy. The task is urgent, but the message is hopeful. Truth can still catch up, especially if broadcasters decide to run with it.