People say journalists know too much. The truth is, they know too many people, too many important people. That is probably one of their greatest sins, or, perhaps, one of the greatest injustices. For instance, the phonebook of a journalist is a gold mine. His telephone conversations are often very classy. But his pocket almost always leaves a doubt.
The weather couldn’t have been any more pleasant on this particular day. The sky was spotting a sunless hue. It was a press conferences at a prestigious hotel on the Island. Every tool was ready: a writing pad, pen, phone and a wallet. Down the street was a ready bus. And almost immediately the journey began. And no sooner had this journalist settled down than his phone rang. Caroline Danjuma on the line. Returning the previous day’s call, perhaps, to fix another date after six months of back and forth. Her picture appeared on the phone screen. Then a sharp scream joined the ringtone. It was from a young lady sitting beside the journalist.
“Oh My God! Oh My God! Do you know her?”
What is to be done? Pick Caroline’s call or answer this petrified lady. In seconds, the seat space began to tighten. The journalist, sandwiched between two young ladies, soon won the attention of four eagerly attentive ladies from behind his seat.
Phone now on silence. And with a look mingled with pride and self-pity, came the affirmative nod.
This was followed with a battery of other question. The conversation had become steaming when another call came in. Dr Sid on the line. What did he want? His interview was already published. Perhaps the headline wasn’t good. Just in the middle of the thought process came another spasm from one of his new friends.
“Is that Dr Sid calling you?”
Yet another positive nod. The conversation with Dr Sid was short and little less of the prescience. The new chatty parties resumed. The topic was about celebrities in the entertainment industry. It was a question and answer session. And after thirty minutes, another call came, it was Caroline Danjuma again.
At this time, the seemingly logical question was asked, “Are you related to her?”
“No, I am a journalist.”