We have this monthly rendezvous in Surulere. Called ‘The Amala Group’, it is a small gathering of largely media veterans and their close friends. It has been a part of our lives for about 17 years now. About two years ago, I was there seated by Uncle Sam when a relatively new member and an alumnus of Vanguard who had made good in the business and political world, offered to host a small birthday get-together in honour of Uncle Sam. I knew a small, chummy private party was down Uncle Sam’s alley. I was therefore not surprised that he accepted the offer after asking for some clarifications. What surprised me was that he thereafter, leaned into my ear and whispered ‘Who is he?’ ‘How can you not know him?’ I whispered back. ‘We were at Punch together. We were at Vanguard together during the early stages’ I continued in a low tone to avoid being heard. His response was a defensive ‘that’s a long time ago, man. Do you know how many people I have worked with’? I smiled indulgently at that response because I understood. Old age was at its usual tricks and my boss was giving the kind of defensive reactions old people give. Ordinarily, this person should have been remembered by Uncle Sam because of the impact he made at both Punch and Vanguard since he was not just a faceless former staff who came and went with the crowd.

Old age plays its tricks on my memory too from time to time. Perhaps the most recent was at the Vanguard re-union last month. I drew a blank when I was introduced to the Joint Organizing Chairman. Yet, he had worked with me at the early stages of Vanguard and I had acknowledged his potentials. The Organizing Secretary also said he had had to introduce himself to me at least twice – he too claimed to have been ‘there’ almost from the beginning. And I am not anywhere near Uncle Sam in age yet! Perhaps, like Uncle Sam, I could use the defense that it was all a long time ago. Yes, 42 years almost to the month if you are nitpicking. Sunday Vanguard, the precursor, was about three months earlier on June 3, 1984. I was the Pioneer Editor of both. An abnormality these days when Daily and two Weekend titles are shared by three different Editors.

The day was the official launch of a book aptly titled ‘The Vanguard Chronology: 40 years of Nigeria’s leading Tabloid’. It was the culmination of efforts by some enterprising members of the Vanguard alumni to chronicle the 40-year journey of a paper that gave many of them professional exposure and livelihood. I was reticent about the project to be honest. Too much water has passed under the proverbial bridge and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go that far back in time. Or how much of that past I wanted to relive. I left Vanguard 40 years ago to chase other rainbows. I am proud of what I had achieved and reflective of lessons learnt along the journey. But more to the point, most of those who make up the alumni did not work with me. So, I reasoned that there could be no reunion for me if there was no separation in the first place. ‘You might not know them, but they know you’ was Uncle Sam’s response. Then, the Organizing Secretary called. A card was sent to my residence. And two days to the event, the Daily Editor called. These are in addition to former colleagues who had asked discreetly if I was attending. I understood the pressure and appreciated the concern. To them, it might be like a class re-union without the pioneer class captain. It would be seen as a snub. Or a serious oversight. Only I didn’t see it that way. I felt my contribution was too insignificant in the overall scheme of things to be given an undeserved attention if not accolade. Yes, I helped to bring someone’s dream, someone’s concept into reality. Yes, I helped to plant. But the greater credit must go to those who stayed long enough to water and nurture the young plant through the seasons.

The lingering ambivalence abated when the reviewer Gbemiga Ogunleye, former Deputy Editor-in-Chief of Punch, former Provost of the Nigerian Institute of Journalism, and a favourite aburo, mounted the podium. As he mentioned my name, my mind travelled back in time to 1984. It started with my first serious conversation with Uncle Sam on the proposed paper where he talked about his expectations and what the success of the paper would mean to him given the circumstances that led to it. He also advised me on the challenges of managing a diverse group of people and touched on my relatively young age then. He quickly assured me though, by saying that Gowon wasn’t much older when he became the Head of State. At a point, I wasn’t listening to Gbemiga Ogunleye’s review anymore. I was doing my own review in my head as I went through some stages that preceded the actual birth of the paper. I sat on different interview panels as we engaged critical personnel – not just in editorial – that would steer the overall ship. The purse was lean and the number of personnel reflected that. But what we lacked in quantity, we tried to make up in quality. I remembered the meetings with the General Manager, the Production Manager and the Press Supervisor to set up deadlines and a production time-table that would work with the capacity of our press – a newspaper is nothing without strict deadlines. I remembered the expectations, the sacrifices and the disappointments when we had to shift D-Day at least twice. I remembered my emotions when the first clean copy of the paper was finally brought to me by the Press Supervisor.

Vanguard has come a long way. Shortly after the coup that brought Buhari into power, Editors and media owners were invited to Dodan Barracks for briefing by Idiagbon, the de-facto Prime Minister of the regime. We were asked to introduce ourselves. ‘Vanguard? He scoffed after I had introduced myself. ’Which paper is that?’ he asked dismissively. Segun Osoba and Felix Adenaike quickly rose to our defense. I and Uncle Sam kept quiet. But I promised myself that nobody would be so dismissive of Vanguard after a year and that the success of Vanguard would make Idiagbon eat his words. The quick acceptance of Vanguard was thus gratifying. It had entered various offices and homes within four months of its daily publication.

Nobody lives forever and many of those who kept sleepless nights forty-two years ago, to help make a reality of the dream that was Vanguard are sadly, no longer with us. May their souls rest in peace. I still see their faces when I think of those early days and I would have given anything to share memories with them on the day. I am however glad that Uncle Sam, the man who personifies Vanguard is alive to see this day of glory after so many storms. It reminded me of what Superstar singer Diana Ross said to CEO Berry Gordon at an anniversary of Motown Records, the recording company that incubated and nurtured many black singers of an era. ‘It is not those who went away that matters. It is those who came back’. And on August 19, 2026, quite a few of the Vanguard alumni came back to honor Uncle Sam. Deservedly.

•Muyiwa Adetiba is a veteran journalist and publisher. He can be reached via titbits2012@yahoo.com