It has been a week of being bedridden under intensive care. Chronic spinal cord issues, a broken pelvis, deep cuts, fractured bones, and scars now mark the faces of newsmen who are currently receiving medical attention in the hospital.
On 6th February 2026, it was the third day of reporting on the projects of the North East Development Commission (NEDC), following a state visit by Alh. Uba Maigari Ahmodu, Honourable Minister of State for Regional Development; Gen. Paul Tarfa (rtd); the Board Chairman of NEDC, Mohammed Goni Alkali; the MD/CEO of the Commission; and a few members of the National Assembly. The team had visited several projects initiated by the Commission, with journalists and other state officials in attendance.
That Friday, the Commission decided to visit one of its completed schools in Yelwan Duguri. From there, it planned to hand over other projects along the Bauchi–Gombe road, after which the officials would continue to Gombe while Bauchi journalists and others would return home. We all took off from Ramat House, Presidential Wing of the Bauchi Government House.
The school was formally handed over to the state government. Hon. Auwal Jatau, the Deputy Governor, received it on behalf of the state. We covered the event as usual and returned to a newly dedicated Toyota 15-passenger bus. We asked the driver, a staff member of the Bauchi State Ministry of Higher Education and Regional Integration, to wait for our colleagues — the cameramen. Meanwhile, the convoy built up, and our bus lost its third position near the front.
The New Bus, the New Road, and the Genesis of the Accident
The driver, an employee of the Ministry, realised he was now at the tail of the convoy and decided to accelerate the newly purchased Toyota Hiace bus on the newly constructed Yelwan Duguri–Yashi road. He drove off dangerously, signalling the danger ahead when he broke the side mirror of one of the vehicles, hit the road improperly, and attempted to overtake about 30 vehicles in the convoy conveying the Deputy Governor, the Minister, and the MD.
The speed became alarming. Almost everyone warned him to remain behind the convoy and prioritise safety.
“Driver, easy!” my friend, Saheed Olaide of NAN, shouted.
A few seconds after the warning, I raised my gaze and saw a Sharon car heading directly toward our overspeeding bus. Our driver became confused. Returning to his lane was impossible, as the convoy fully occupied it. He swerved to his left while keeping the oncoming vehicle in the middle — and that was the beginning of the turbulence.
I heard the loud shouts of my colleagues: “La ilaha illallah!” and “Jesus!” as the bus carrying 14 occupants veered off the road. That was the last thing I saw.
What followed was the terrifying sensation of somersaulting and hitting hard surfaces. I felt suspended in a cloudy realm of ghosts. The thought crossed my mind: Am I alive or dead? I felt bodies hitting mine as we were ejected from the carcass of the somersaulting vehicle.
After the dust settled, I opened my eyes and found myself inside the wrecked bus. To my left, I saw an opening through the window. “Run, fire might break out,” I thought. I tried to stand, but my seatbelt restrained me. I punched it loose and jumped out.
Outside, I saw almost all my colleagues lying on the farmland — land that had been harvested last October — covered in dust and blood. Helpless. Almost lifeless.
I turned and saw Saheed Olaide with fractured legs and blood covering his face.
“Help me,” he said.
I turned again and saw Bulak Hafsa, Manager with NTA; Hajara Aliyu of Channels TV; Sulaiman Isah of AIT; Rabiu Ishaq of BRC; Kabir Ilelah (Matawale); and Harisu, a cameraman with NTA, all lying on the ground.
David Adenuga of The Nation was helpless. Armstrong Bakam of Arise asked, “Are you okay?”
I replied, “Yes,” even though no doctor had certified me.
Within moments, helpers gathered at the accident scene. My friend, Hassan Ibrahim of Daily Trust, and my senior colleague, Paul Orude of The Sun Newspaper, rushed down from their bus to look for me. They held me down to calm me after the crash.
It was then I realised I had not died.
Shortly afterwards, we were rushed to the Cottage Hospital, Yelwa Duguri. David Adenuga, Bulak Hafsa, and I were placed in the trunk of a van.
“What happened to us? What are we doing here?” Bulak asked.
“Don’t worry, just calm down,” NUJ Chairman, Comrade Umar Sai'du, who was clinging to the van, assured us.
I looked up at him, but the dust covering my body made it difficult to blink properly. Still, I managed to see blood flowing from the centre of David’s head.
For Oga Kabir, a staff member of Bauchi State Television Authority, after 35 years of service to the state and barely 25 days to his retirement, he sustained severe injuries and, as I write, lies in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU).
Another painful case is my colleague from Channels TV, Kani Ben. Just days before our outing, he had travelled to Yobe, Adamawa, and Taraba states for live coverage. He had planned to cover the Bauchi @50 anniversary as the station’s cameraman on Saturday — but instead landed in the ICU the day before.
In Part Two, I will report on the treatment, the assistance rendered, and the process of discharging us from the hospital. I will also tell you what the big men said and did about this.
Before that, my profound gratitude goes to Governor Bala Mohammed and his wife, the Deputy Governor Hon. Auwal Jatau, the Honourable Minister, the MD of NEDC, and my darling wife.
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