Nigeria’s Media Crackdown Obscures the Plight of Terror Victims
For nearly six years, the remains of 20 year old reporter Pelumi Onifade lay unidentified in a Lagos mortuary, recorded simply as “Body 1385.”
Onifade, a young journalist with Gboah TV, disappeared in October 2020 after he was reportedly taken away by officers attached to the Lagos State Task Force while covering the unrest surrounding the #EndSARS protests. His body was later deposited at the Ikorodu General Hospital mortuary.
In June 2026, a Lagos coroner’s court confirmed through DNA testing that the unidentified body was indeed that of Onifade, bringing a measure of clarity to a case that had remained unresolved for years.
His case has become a stark reminder of the risks journalists face when reporting on politically sensitive events and the long struggle that can follow when state institutions are accused of failing to provide answers.
But the concerns surrounding Onifade's death extend beyond one journalist.
Across Nigeria, journalists, press freedom advocates and human rights organisations continue to raise concerns about intimidation, arrests, harassment and restrictions that can make reporting on violence increasingly difficult.
A domestic news editor, speaking to Globalvoice on condition of anonymity, described a newsroom environment in which fear of official retaliation has affected how security-related stories are reported.
“Right now, we do not have a single reporter stationed in the Middle Belt,” the editor said. “Press releases and government statements are how some of our reports on terrorism are manufactured.”
The editor added that challenging official narratives could expose media organisations to regulatory pressure.
“Going against the dictates of the regulators means you have the government to contend with,” the source said, warning that the consequences could include “a heavy fine, or something worse.”
The Playbook of Silence, Delay and Denial
Critics of the government's approach to security reporting argue that official responses to attacks often follow a familiar pattern: initial rejection or downplaying of reports, followed by delayed acknowledgement and, in some cases, significantly lower casualty figures.
Such allegations have been particularly contentious in parts of Nigeria's Middle Belt, where communities have suffered repeated attacks, kidnappings and displacement.
On January 18, 2026, reports emerged of an attack on worshippers in Kurmin Wali village in Kaduna State. Local accounts said armed assailants abducted worshippers from churches during Sunday services.
The following day, Kaduna police authorities reportedly dismissed the reports as false. The account later came under renewed scrutiny after local groups circulated information identifying people allegedly missing from the community.
A similar dispute over conflicting accounts followed an April 2026 incident in Southern Kaduna involving schoolchildren. Initial security accounts reportedly questioned reports of an abduction before subsequent accounts acknowledged that children were missing.
For journalists attempting to independently verify such incidents, the gap between official statements and accounts from residents can create significant reporting challenges.
“The government at local and federal levels try to save face by routinely distorting the reality of attacks to preserve their political image, and mainstream media fly with these figures without verification,” retired journalist Anuhe Aba told Globalvoice.
Independent verification is particularly difficult when journalists lack correspondents on the ground, victims are inaccessible and security agencies control much of the immediate information available after an attack.
Regulation, Fines and the Pressure on Broadcasters
Concerns over media restrictions have also extended to Nigeria's broadcast regulator, the National Broadcasting Commission (NBC).
In 2022, the NBC fined four television stations ?5 million each over documentaries concerning banditry and terrorism in Zamfara State, accusing the broadcasters of glorifying bandits.
The legality of the commission's authority to impose such fines subsequently became the subject of litigation. In January 2024, the Federal High Court ruled against the NBC's power to impose the fines. The commission has continued its legal challenge.
The dispute has become part of a wider debate over where responsible security reporting ends and censorship begins.
Press-freedom organisations have repeatedly warned that regulatory powers should not be used to prevent journalists from reporting matters of legitimate public interest.
The Media Rights Agenda has documented cases involving arrests, intimidation, harassment and other violations against journalists in Nigeria. Its 2025 report described a pattern in which security and law-enforcement agencies were among the principal perpetrators of attacks against media workers.
For journalists operating in conflict-affected areas, the consequences can be especially severe.
“The NBC’s notices represent a dangerous attempt to impose prior censorship on the media and suppress legitimate journalistic expression,” Kolawole Oluwadare, Deputy Director of the Socio-Economic Rights and Accountability Project, told Globalvoice.
The pressure has not been limited to regulators.
Government and the Battle Over Terrorism Reporting
In June 2026, Information and National Orientation Minister Mohammed Idris urged Nigerian media organisations to reduce the prominence given to terrorists and criminal groups.
Speaking at a national security summit organised by the Nigeria Union of Journalists in collaboration with the Department of State Services, Idris told editors to “take these terrorists and criminals off your front pages,” arguing that excessive publicity could serve the interests of groups seeking to spread fear and instability.
The government says such an approach is necessary to prevent terrorists from exploiting the media for propaganda, recruitment and psychological warfare.
But press freedom advocates and journalists argue that limiting coverage of terrorist attacks can have an unintended consequence: victims and affected communities may disappear from the national conversation.
“Telling media organisations not to give prominence to the activities of terrorists is telling them to downplay reality,” Aba told Globalvoice.
The distinction between reporting terrorism responsibly and suppressing information about its victims is therefore becoming increasingly important.
Journalists have a duty not to glorify armed groups. But they also have a responsibility to document attacks, identify victims where appropriate, investigate official claims and preserve evidence of abuses.
The Battle Over Nigeria's International Image
The struggle over how Nigeria's security crisis is portrayed extends beyond the country's borders.
Government officials have consistently rejected descriptions of Nigeria's insecurity that portray the crisis as a coordinated campaign against a particular religious community. Authorities have instead emphasised the complex combination of terrorism, banditry, communal violence, farmer-herder disputes, criminality and competition over land and resources.
International advocacy groups, however, have presented a different picture.
The Observatory for Religious Freedom in Africa (ORFA), in its assessment of killings between 2020 and 2025, reported that 28,551 Christians and 13,224 Muslims were among civilians killed in the period it studied. ORFA said the figures showed a substantially higher rate of Christian civilian deaths relative to population in affected states.
The figures and methodology remain subjects of debate, but the underlying question is difficult to ignore: how should Nigeria accurately document violence when the identities, motives and affiliations of victims are often disputed?
For families whose relatives are killed or abducted, the answer is more immediate than a statistical argument.
They want names recorded.
They want their communities heard.
And they want the circumstances surrounding the deaths of their relatives investigated.
When Victims Become Statistics
In Benue, Kaduna, Plateau and other conflict affected states, families continue to live with the consequences of attacks that can receive only limited national attention.
When journalists cannot reach affected communities, when newsrooms rely almost entirely on official statements and when media organisations fear regulatory retaliation, important details can disappear.
The result is not merely incomplete journalism.
It can mean that victims become statistics without names, families without answers and communities without a national audience.
Pelumi Onifade's story illustrates the human cost of such silence.
For years, “Body 1385” was a number in a Lagos morgue rather than the name of a young journalist whose family was searching for him. It took years, a court process and DNA testing before the identity of the remains was formally established.
His case is a reminder that journalism is not only about reporting what authorities announce. It is also about asking questions when official accounts are incomplete, following evidence when it leads somewhere uncomfortable and ensuring that people who might otherwise disappear from the public record are not forgotten.
“What is lacking is the political will to protect civilians,” Dr. Nzomiwu, an international relations analyst, said. “The job of the media is to function as the eyes and ears of society, not to shield state failures.”
For Nigeria's journalists, that responsibility increasingly comes with a difficult choice: report the violence and risk official backlash, or remain silent and allow victims to disappear from public view.
