Previously this site belonged to the Nigerian Television Network. They migrated to www.nta.ng. The Nigerian Television Authority, (NTA) is the National Television Network, for the people of Nigeria. Its key function is to provide as a public service in the interest of Nigeria, independent and impartial television broadcasting for general reception. No other television station in Nigeria is charged with the same social responsibility of public interest broadcasting. Accordingly, the NTA seeks to serve as a tool for national integration.
NTA also has International Broadcast, transmitting to USA, Canada and Europe. As the Largest Network in Africa, NTA serves as the medium for the African Continent to tell the African story. It is the first black African Television Network to undertake mass broadcast globally.
NTA’s transmission features Black content especially Nigerian Productions which have already made huge impact on the black population. The Authority’s programming ensures that they reinforce the enthusiasm of the blacks in Diaspora by promoting Nigeria and African Culture, while countering the negative perceptions of the black race.
NTA also has several radio stations broadcasting in Nigeria and also globally and they too seek to promote Nigerian and African culture while at the same time ensuring that they bring relevant content which keeps the listeners entertained and educated.
I’ve undertaken the purpose of re-purposing this site and I will be publishing content related to TV and already there are some posts that I have published and you can access them by clicking through the various posts below.
The plane touched down at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport a little after daybreak. Ayo and I, on our first international correspondence bustled out of the plane, flashed our press passes at the Immigration desk and picked our luggage from the carousel then followed the stream of people heading outside. Once we hailed the first taxi we saw, a grey van with a single yellow stripe across it. The driver came out to the back to help us load our bags but Ayo wouldn’t let him touch them.
“This is very sensitive equipment,” he said. “I’d rather do it myself.”
The driver grumbled something under his breath in Swahili then went back to the driver’s seat and Ayo shot daggers into his back. When he eventually got the bags piled in the boot of the car, he jumped into the back and we went off.
I handed a note with our destination’s address to the driver and he looked down at then nodded. Two hours later, after sifting through traffic we arrived at a small shopping complex. I paid the driver in dollars for the trip then added another 50 and asked him to wait for us. He pocketed the money and nodded, happy at the prospect of being paid to sit around and do nothing.
Ayo took his hard-cover case out of the back and we left our other two bags in the boot and made out way into the lift. It went up and opened up at the fourth floor, across from a glass door with a sign above it that read “Midnight Wellness Center”. We stepped through the glass door into a small reception area and a lady with a cheerful smile greeted us.
“Hello,” I said to her. “My name is Ayetemi Jimoh from Africa Global News. I have an appointment to see Dr. Jonas Otieno.”
“Ah yes,” she said. “Please have a seat and the doctor will be right with you.”
She motioned to a pair of black chairs across from her and we sat down. Two minutes later a door to our right opened up and a short man with wispy white hair stepped through.
“Ayetemi,” he said. “I’m so glad that you could make it.”
I stood up and gave his hand a firm shake.
“Thank you for seeing me Dr. Otieno and I would like to start by giving my warmest gratitude for what you did for my mother. Your treatment cured her of her breast cancer. If it was not for you, well, I don’t even want to think about it.”
“Don’t mention it,” he said. “I do what I can to help those in need. Now come into my office and we can get this interview started.”
Ayo and I followed Otieno into his office, a humble room with a wide oak desk by the window and a massive book-shelf on the far wall. Otieno took a seat on the business end of his desk and Ayo started to unpack his gear on the opposite side. He set up the tripod right in front of the desk and carefully attached his camera on top of it with me stood to its right.
“Now Dr. Otieno,” I said. “I want you to repeat exactly what you said to me on the phone, starting with how your miracle cure was discovered. I hope you’re not camera-shy.”
He looked at the camera lens and smiled.
“Cameras are just another pair of eyes,” he said. “Alright, down to business.” Several decades ago my father took his horse to the vet who diagnosed it with a form of cancer that would be very costly to treat. As he was but a poor farmer and did not have the money to treat his beloved horse, he took it back home and everyday he would lead it out to graze in the fields. He expected the horse’s condition to deteriorate over time however, to his shock it seemed to get better. After a few months he took the horse back to the vet who announced that the horse’s cancer was completely gone and could not explain it as anything short of a miracle.
Upon further inspection my father, Otieno Senior, went out to the field and noticed that the horse would only eat a particular weed, one that he’d never paid any particular attention to before. Suspecting that a healthy diet may have been what saved the horse’s life, he made sure never to cultivate that field and a few decades later when he himself contracted cancer, he decided to give this magic weed a try and it worked for him as well.
“He sat on this secret until the day he died, at the ripe old age of 95, and the knowledge of this medicinal weed was passed on to me in a letter that he left in his will. At the time I’d already gotten my practitioner’s license and I saw the significance of how this plant could save lives so I opened up a clinic named after the very same horse who discovered it… Midnight.”
“That’s all well and good Dr. Otieno,” I said. “But if you have such a potent and non-toxic cure for cancer available, then why don’t more people know about it? The cure for cancer has been found! And by an African no less. This could be huge for the continent.”
“Well,” said Dr. Otieno, crossing his arms across his chest. “Providing the cure is my job. Getting the word out there is yours. And I have a feeling that you’ll find it to be a tougher task than you think.”
“Why is that?” I asked.
“Such a simple cure for a deadly disease would put a lot of powerful people out business. Therefore it is actually in my best interest to keep my operation as small as it is now. The irony of the situation is, the fewer people that I tell, the more that I can save. Now I hope that this the end of our interview as I have patients to attend to. Daisy at the front desk has a flash drive containing the testimonials of several people that I cured. She’ll pass it to you on your way out.”
With that curt dismissal he ushered us out of his office, barely giving Ayo enough time to pack up his gear. Daisy handed us the flash drive as we left and we made our way back into the waiting car.
The driver smiled when he saw us, started up the engine and guided us out of the parking lot and back into traffic.
“Gentlemen,” said the driver. “This traffic is crazy but you are lucky that you are with me because I know a shortcut.”
He veered the car off of the highway and took us down a narrow and dusty road. Ayo and I felt every bump along the way and then suddenly the car stopped.
“Excuse me,” said the driver as he stepped out of the cabin. “You two were in that place for a long time and there were no public toilets around. Give me a second to relieve myself.”
He went out of sight behind into the bushes off the side of the road and as soon as he disappeared, a group of five men appeared from the other side, each them armed. They dragged Ayo and me out of the van and ransacked our pockets, taking everything from our phones to our wallets and even the hard-drive that Dr. Otieno had given me. Then they got into the back of the van, took out the hard-case suitcase that contained Ayo’s video camera equipment and made off into the bushes that they’d come from, leaving the two of us dazed and confused, struggling to come to grips with what had just happened.
“Ayo,” I said. “Remember when Dr. Otieno said that we’d have a hard time telling the public about this miracle cure? I think I know what he meant now.”
Ayo turned towards me and put a comforting hand on my shoulder.
“What is important is that they didn’t kill us,” he said. “Now start thinking about what you’re going to tell our show-runner. That equipment was expensive.”
