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Writing my memoir is not something that I thought I would do. The thought of it germinated in my mind because I grew up in journalism and took on the editorial, management and various other responsibilities that I was given by the newspapers and news magazines I wrote for. Besides, in Nigeria where I originally come from, journalism, at the time I entered into it in the mid-1970s, was really not a well-regarded profession. In fact, people looked down on journalists and saw them generally as school dropouts. However, there were some among the veteran journalists in the country who were not university graduates but had demonstrated exemplary brilliance and courage as journalists. It was not until the early 1970s, or so that university graduates were recruited into the journalism profession in Nigeria as editors, columnists, features writers, and so on. Therefore, I entered the profession as a young boy. I had just left secondary school and was only 18! Because of my age, I could only be hired as a cub reporter. xv I had no previous training in anything else, and I was not a university graduate. All I had was a modest West African School Certificate. It meant that I had to be trained on the job as an apprentice, as it was the tradition in those days. Any prospect of my doing well and progressing in the profession depended largely on how serious, dedicated and determined I was to learn the rudiments of reporting and be patient to grow and excel in the profession. I threw myself into it anyhow.