On the day he was notified that he was a finalist for the 2019 Thomson Reuters Young Journalist Award, Amos Abba anticipated a flourishing long-term career.
Down the line, his investigations into water contamination by a multinational company, illegal activities of loan sharks, and the erroneous Nigerian military airstrikes that killed civilians held power to account and established him as an award-winning journalist at the peak of his profession. But today, he no longer works as a full-time journalist in Nigeria.
“I was just exhausted,” Mr Abba said. “If I had depended on my take-home for the month, it was usually not sustainable. I had to look for other sources of livelihood to sustain my living. For me, that was the biggest challenge.”
The writing was on the wall from the beginning. After graduating in 2016, Mr Abba’s introduction to professional journalism came through unpaid freelance work for a major Nigerian newspaper, a role he held until 2018.
“I was doing menial jobs. Whatever I got from it, I would use it to pursue my stories. At the time, it was just love for the craft; the money was the last thing on my mind,” he said.

Mr Abba secured a full-time job in 2019 after a short internship, but financial challenges persisted owing to poor remuneration. In 2022, he left to pursue a master’s degree in the United States and has since not returned to full-time practice in Nigerian journalism.
In 2020, one year after Mr Abba’ nomination, Kabir Adejumo emerged as one of the winners of the Thomson Reuters Young Journalist Award. He won the award for his highly risky investigative report that exposed how border guards on the Nigeria-Benin Republic border allowed people to cross in violation of COVID-19 rules in both countries.
A few months after publication, Mr Adejumo left for another newsroom that offered higher pay. “I left because I felt like I wanted a bigger challenge and I wanted better pay,” he said.
A mix of low pay, job risks and other challenges forced Adejumo to quit full-time practice barely five years later.
The issue of poor remuneration driving the exits of Mr Abba, Mr Adejumo, and dozens of other journalists interviewed or surveyed for this report is widely acknowledged in Nigerian journalism. Journalists routinely decry low pay, media managers often complain about declining revenues, and regulators at times flag the problem. However, the scale of this challenge and its impact on critical accountability reporting in Africa’s largest democracy remain underreported.
Within the past decade, Nigeria has experienced severe brain drain, in several sectors, such as health and education. Journalists have extensively documented this crisis, yet they rarely turn the lens on the massive talent exodus affecting the Nigerian media itself.
The scale of the problem is evident in the survey data collected for this report. Of the 50 former full-time practitioners surveyed, 64 per cent identified low remuneration as their primary reason for leaving.

Slovakia-based salary survey platform, Paylab, estimates the monthly minimum and average salaries for Nigerian journalists at N172,461 ($126.55) and N347,760 ($255.17), respectively. The dollar rates are calculated based on the Central Bank of Nigeria’s rate of N1,362.84 to one dollar, as of June 9, 2026.
However, these figures inflate the on-the-ground reality. Many full-time journalists earn well below the N70,000 ($51.36) national minimum wage approved by the Nigerian government.
One of them is a 28-year-old broadcaster whose monthly take-home of N50,000 ($36.69) barely lasts a few days. “I survive through careful budgeting, taking on small freelance media tasks like voice-overs, event anchoring, and other side engagements,” the journalist who works in a radio station in Nigeria’s South-west says.
Their 30-year-old colleague, who earns the same amount, does not plan to leave or switch to a better-paying job because journalism gives him “purpose beyond the paycheck.”
Low wages affect journalists across the country, but the problem is most prevalent in the broadcast sector, especially within Northern radio stations, where pay falls below half the minimum wage.
Two journalists who work for different radio stations in Nigeria’s North-west expressed their frustration at earning N30,000 ($22) and N40,000 ($29.35) respectively. However, the 28 and 33-year-olds are thankful that the paltry pay comes in regularly. That is not the reality for some others.
While these four journalists, who are still in their prime, decided to stay, many others did not. About 67 per cent of journalists aged 18 to 34 spend barely five years on the job, survey data show.

A 2025 publication by the International Centre for Investigative Reporting (ICIR) also documents the predicament of professional journalists who work every day of the year but struggle to pay house rent.
To supplement their meagre salaries, former journalists who responded to the survey designed for this report turn to multiple income streams. 38 per cent established side businesses, 36 per cent engaged in freelancing, and 32 per cent provide public relations consulting. Most concerning, 14 per cent admit to accepting money, commonly known as “brown envelope”, to stay afloat.

Lekan Otufodunrin, the executive director of Media Career Services, a media development organisation, mentors young journalists and provides support early in their careers. To manage journalists’ anxiety about low pay, he offers a long-term vision, using real success stories to convince them that journalism could be a necessary “stepping stone” toward other career goals.
“People need to be convinced by real examples, and each time we do that, their anxiety is not as bad as it used to be,” Otufodunrin said.
To address this problem, the Nigeria Union of Journalists (NUJ) is canvassing support for a Media Enhancement Bill to enhance the labour rights and privileges of journalists.
“We have one or two [National Assembly] members we have identified, and they have agreed to sponsor the bill. We hope and pray that, at the end of the day, the bill will scale through,” says the union’s president, Alhassan Yahaya.
However, the issue is bigger than the proposed solution. While implementation might be achievable in government-owned outlets, compliance in the private sector, which constitutes the majority of Nigerian media, might be difficult.
To surmount this challenge, the NUJ is proposing dialogue. “They have their own union, so we are trying to see how we can sit down and discuss,” says Mr Yahaya. “Once we have what is implemented by the federal and state governments, we will examine it and see how they can adapt those policies so that they can improve the welfare of journalists in Nigeria.”
Not only money
After honing her skills at the University of Ibadan, Aishat Babatunde transitioned to the mainstream in 2019, where she built an impressive portfolio at top-tier outlets like Nigerian Tribune, Premium Times, and HumAngle.
Barely three years into practice, the graduate of English wanted more than journalism could offer. A combination of personal struggles, newsroom politics and financial challenges led to her exit.
Today, she is pursuing a doctoral degree in comparative literature to fulfil her dream of a career in book publishing. Ms Babatunde does not foresee a possible return to the newsroom. “That seems like a dream that is far gone right now,” she says.
Like Ms Babatunde, an increasing number of Nigerian journalists have sought further education abroad over the last decade, with many eventually leaving both the country and the profession behind.

While academia is a primary exit route, political appointments serve as another major draw. Recent high-profile transitions include Ajuri Ngelale, who served as spokesperson to President Bola Tinubu and senior special adviser to former President Muhammadu Buhari. Similarly, Abdulaziz Abdulaziz, the 2018 Nigeria Investigative Reporter of the Year, whose reporting famously led to the resignation of Finance Minister Kemi Adeosun, has also moved into the corridors of politics.
In this category is also Femi Owolabi, the pioneer Head of Investigations at The Cable Foundation, who mentioned that his entry into politics was not always planned.
“I was invited to help develop a policy document for a gubernatorial candidate. I took a two-month leave from the newsroom for that,” he said. “After the candidate won, I was appointed as a policy advisor.”
Beyond the new opportunity, Mr Owolabi’s exit was fueled by a growing sense of professional burnout. “We carried out several investigations and made recommendations, but nothing substantial was done by those in authority. That was always discouraging,” he said of his frustration.
There was also the security risk associated with the job. Having survived a near-fatal experience covering the Boko Haram insurgency and a high-stakes undercover mission where his cover was nearly blown, the transition to politics offered a safer path.
Sometimes, the dangers associated with the job take the form of direct intimidation. For instance, when Kabir Adejumo reported how a pastor allegedly raped a teenager, he received explicit threats from the accused despite the overwhelming evidence presented in his stories.
“At that point, the threats didn’t just test my professional resolve but also my personal courage,” he said.
Then there was another time when he believed he was targeted for execution by bandits in a remote village in terrorism-inflicted Zamfara State. “The very day after I left the community, that was when terrorists known as bandits attacked the community,” he said, “These are just some of the challenges we face in reporting critical stories.”
His fears are not exaggerated. Recent happenings in the Nigerian journalism sector are terrifying. Some journalists have been killed, while some disappeared in mysterious ways while doing their job. Others have been injured.
There was Pelumi Onifade, a 20-year-old journalism intern who was killed by police officers while covering the #EndSARS protests in 2020. Radio journalist Mohammed Adamu’s head was smashed open by police officers, allegedly on a politician’s order, while covering a public event. Dadiyata, a fierce government critic, went missing and is presumably dead since 2019. This is just a few.
As of 11 May 2026, the Centre for Journalism Innovation and Development (CJID) reported 86 deaths and 1,326 attacks since tracking began in 1986, including physical assault, threats, unlawful arrests and unlawful imprisonment.
Many journalists have also been arrested, assaulted and jailed based on trumped-up charges enabled by a controversial Cybercrime Law.
Such development accounts for Nigeria’s low press freedom rating, currently 112 out of 180 countries. Reporters Without Borders determines press freedom ratings by evaluating political context, legal frameworks, economic constraints, sociocultural dynamics, and journalist safety in each country.

Mr Otufodunrin recommends a tripartite approach to keeping journalists safe. “The government should make the environment good enough. Journalists should be aware of and understand when not to put themselves in a risky situation. [For newsrooms], before your reporters go out, let’s do an assessment, let’s know how we can give them a backup. Let’s know when to pull them back. It’s not just about getting the story,” he said.
Respondents to the survey deployed for this story also highlighted the lack of editorial independence, pressure to prioritise insignificant stories that bring traffic, poor newsroom leadership, and poor working conditions as other reasons for leaving full-time journalism practice.

To reduce the impact of job-related risks, the NUJ is working to provide health and life insurance coverage for journalists.
“Research has shown that less than one per cent of journalists in Nigeria have any form of insurance, especially life insurance. We are trying to see how we can launch new insurance premiums for journalists, especially health insurance, with the sole aim of achieving three objectives: we want to reduce out-of-pocket expenses, reduce maternal mortality among women, and improve universal health coverage,” Mr Yahaya said.
In March, the union’s Federal Capital Territory (FCT) council enrolled 150 journalists in the FCT Health Insurance Scheme.
Newsrooms’ coping mechanism
Since its inception in 2010, the International Centre for Investigative Reporting (ICIR) has produced and nurtured some of the country’s best talent and hard-hitting journalism.
Journalists working for the outlet have either won or have been nominated for top awards such as the Wole Soyinka Award for Investigative Reporting. Despite the many accomplishments, the not-for-profit newsroom has had its share of struggles in retaining talent.
Dayo Aiyetan, the executive director of ICIR, noted that the financial struggle is even more challenging for outlets like his due to the tight funding model they operate.
“ICIR receives donor funding basically to promote investigative journalism in Nigeria. But we went beyond that. We said if we are promoting investigative journalism in Nigeria, why can’t we do the same? We started our own newsroom. The truth of the matter is that there is no money to fund that newsroom. It is from the non-profit’s savings that we fund the newsroom.”
“Now, there are 28 people in the ICIR; only eight are in the non-profit, the remaining 20 are in the newsroom. That newsroom doesn’t make a dime, but we still have to pay salaries. Up to 65 per cent of the salary we pay goes to that newsroom. So, how do we sustain? Because there is no profit, it then means that we are unable to improve salaries. It’s just now that we are reviewing salaries.”
While noting that he is “not insensitive” to the need for better pay for journalists, Mr Aiyetan emphasised that decisions about mobility should always be driven by passion.
“People with a passion for journalism have reduced or moved to other businesses because if you’re coming into journalism, you must know it is not about the money,” he said, while citing ICIR journalists who have remained in the outlet for many years.
Regardless of the funding model, virtually every media outlet in Nigeria is facing financial challenges that have scaled back their operations, caused the loss of great talent they trained, or led to their folding entirely.
This challenge is also reflected in the reality of one newsroom whose data was analysed for this report. Internal data from the top Nigerian newsroom shows that approximately 44 per cent of journalists who worked for the outlet as of March 2022 had left the organisation or journalism entirely within four years, by March 2026.
“With their constant exit, we don’t get to read many investigative stories again,” Tunde Akanni, a professor of journalism and communications at the Lagos State University, said. “That throws a challenge to media development organisations to invest in breeding as many new sets as possible so that the gap of investigative journalism is not left unfilled for too long,” he added.
Media development organisations such as the CJID provide a cushion for journalists and newsrooms. Such interventions include training for campus and professional journalists, story grants, awards, professional mentorship and support for attacked journalists.
The CJID’s executive director, Akintunde Babatunde, noted that while these interventions help address part of the problem, newsrooms need to do more to achieve strong financial standing and retain talent.
“Newsrooms need to continuously invest in good storytelling,” he said. “That way, the newsroom can monetise. They will get a lot more traffic, which they can use for ad negotiations or to turn those insights into subscription opportunities. Newsrooms need to start innovating by building tools and offering data analysis services. Newsrooms need to start thinking about theme-based, niche reporting that could develop into specific expertise in fields. A total package for subscribers will offer some kind of subsidy for good journalism.”
What about foreign media outlets?
While local outlets often offer low pay, transitioning to foreign news organisations has become a lifeline for top talent seeking financial stability. Global giants like the BBC, Deutsche Welle, AFP, and Reuters maintain bureaus or employ full-time reporters and freelancers in Nigeria. However, a move to a foreign outlet by a Nigerian journalist often comes with a trade-off.
One journalist, who requested anonymity to avoid professional repercussions, notes that while the pay and global audience were significant upgrades, they felt their stories were sometimes treated as marginal.
“In the local newsroom, the opportunity to tell the stories that I prized was almost limitless, and it was easier for me because I worked in a newsroom that prioritised investigations backed with funding to report. However, I still wanted more. I wanted better and more efficient tools. Better mentorship and editing. A platform to reach a global audience. Plus, most importantly, more pay. These were the challenges with the local newsroom, which joining a global platform helped address.
“On the other hand, with all the benefits of a global platform, there’s a way I felt limited regarding the stories I could report and how to report them. I felt these stories were treated as marginal and were less prioritised,” the journalist, who has now left full-time practice, said.
Foreign outlets also pose an enormous challenge for local newsrooms, as they lure top talent with higher pay. “They are killing us!” Mr Aiyetan exclaimed.
“We can’t compete with them in terms of pay. They have enormous resources, but I think they are selfish. They are not bothered about improving local journalism, and that’s why they poach. This is something that affects us in Africa, and we must speak about it.”
He gave an example of a top talent whom the ICIR had heavily invested in for years, who ended up at a foreign outlet. This journalist, he said, had rejected several high-paying offers because of their loyalty to the outlet, but they couldn’t resist when the big one came along.
“A foreign media organisation came and offered them five times what they were earning. I said to them, ‘Are you crazy? Do you think in my wildest imagination I would tell you not to go?”
Instead of poaching talent from local newsrooms, Mr Aiyetan proposed that foreign media outlets partner with local ones to produce journalism that serves the public.
“There are credible local newsrooms they can partner with. If you say my newsroom is not up to your standard, why don’t you build capacity in those newsrooms and partner with them so they can do the project you want to do in Africa, instead of setting up independently and taking the same journalists and replicating them in your competing newsrooms? It doesn’t work well for building local journalism. I am so opposed to it.”
Mr Akanni foresees a challenge in striking such a partnership, as foreign outlets have a different agenda from that of developing local newsrooms. “Their commitment is not to the improvement of our society here; they are simply loyal to wherever they originated from,” he said.
Once a journalist, always a journalist
Many scholars described journalism as a highly sentimental endeavour in which its practitioners are forever emotionally attached. This reality posed some challenges for reporting this story.
Despite being out of full-time practice for decades in some cases, interview and survey respondents still believed they were journalists. “I didn’t completely stop,” says Femi Owolabi, “I still contribute opinions and occasional reports from time to time.”
Ironically, most journalists would not return to full-time practice in Nigeria, even if the challenges that forced them out are addressed.
Asked under what condition she would consider returning to full-time journalism practice in Nigeria, Banjo Damilola, Nigeria’s 2020 Investigative Journalist of the Year, said, “Sustenance is important for me. I can’t return to any newsroom offering me N1 million. I have responsibilities that working in a local newsroom won’t just make sense,” she said.
This piece was made possible by support from the International Center for Journalists’ Michael Elliott Award, which is celebrating its ten-year anniversary.













