On September 7, 2023, Nigerian investigative journalist Damilola Ayeni faced an unexpected ordeal in northern Benin. He was investigating environmental conservation when Beninese police arrested him, accusing him of belonging to a jihadist terrorist group.
This shocking incident was a stark illustration of a new, perilous reality. Environmental journalism, once seen as a benign beat, had transformed into a dangerous battleground across Africa. The established understanding of this vital work was becoming dangerously obsolete.
How environmental reporting became about the money
The real story of the 2020s revealed environmental journalism as one of the continent’s most dangerous assignments. Its focus shifted from merely documenting pollution to actively investigating the money and power driving environmental degradation. This fundamental change made reporters targets for governments, corporations, and criminal networks.
Dapo Olurunyomi, founder and CEO of the Centre for Journalism Innovation and Development (CJID), explained this evolution. He noted that the focus moved beyond environmental damage itself, concentrating instead on the systems that perpetuated it. Journalists began scrutinising who owned operations, who issued licenses, and where profits flowed, directly challenging powerful interests.
This was not a distant problem for Nigerians. Resource exploitation in states like Zamfara, Katsina, and Niger was often dismissed as mere ‘banditry.’ But this label obscured the real story: these conflicts were fuelled by illicit wealth from natural resources. This context demonstrated how the promise of stability could often prove misleading in resource-rich regions.
Environmental journalists were no longer just documenting ecological harm. They were investigating deeply embedded economic and political systems that allowed such destruction to thrive unchecked. Their reporting frequently touched on complex issues like land ownership, political patronage, illicit financial flows, and regulatory failures.
A pattern of violence and impunity
The danger extended beyond Nigeria’s borders. On Christmas Day in 2025, soldiers from the Congolese presidential guard arrested camera operator Stéphane Shisso. His “crime” was producing a television report on land degradation caused by cobalt and copper mining in Kolwezi, Democratic Republic of Congo.
Mr. Shisso spent days incommunicado at the Kimbembe military camp before his transfer to Kinshasa. His colleague, Guelord Shamba, went into hiding, fearing a similar fate after witnessing Shisso’s apprehension. Both journalists missed their fathers’ funerals due to their ordeal.
In late 2025, illegal gold miners in Ghana ambushed five journalists and environmental officers. The chase resulted in a severe road accident, leaving Akwasi Adomako of JoyNews with a broken leg requiring surgery. His colleagues from Luv FM, Adom News, and Citi FM sustained head injuries and chest traumas.
A year earlier, in October 2024, security guards working for a mining company detained and beat four Ghanaian journalists from Multimedia Group. The team, including journalist Erastus Donkor and drone pilot Majid Alidu, was documenting environmental degradation and pollution of streams feeding the Ankobra River.
These incidents revealed a clear and alarming pattern. Between October 2025 and March 2026, the International Press Institute (IPI) documented 26 separate attacks and threats against environmental journalists in sub-Saharan Africa. State security agencies were frequently implicated as perpetrators, alongside private companies, armed groups, and local actors.
A 2024 UNESCO study found at least 749 journalists and news organisations reporting on environmental issues were targeted between 2009 and 2023. This included physical violence, detention, online harassment, and legal attacks. Two in five surveyed environmental journalists experienced physical violence related to their work.
The impunity rate for the 44 environmental journalists killed over 15 years was almost 90%, with convictions in only five cases. Such impunity underscored the urgent need for new strategies to protect environmental reporters. This shift in understanding environmental reporting mirrored other profound re-evaluations, such as how South Africa transgender history altered social perceptions.
The perilous journey beyond city limits
Damilola Ayeni’s 2023 experience highlighted a critical dimension: reporters often operate where environmental governance intersects with counterterrorism and border security. Legitimate reporting on conservation or protected areas could easily be misconstrued through a national security lens, exposing journalists to arbitrary detention.
Mr. Ayeni was held incommunicado for nine days, his whereabouts unknown to family or colleagues. The Foundation for Investigative Journalism (FIJ) reported that a police commissioner demanded 800,000 CFA francs for his release. He was eventually freed without charge after diplomatic engagement by the Nigerian Embassy.
The physical demands of environmental reporting frequently required journalists to leave major cities for remote forests, mining communities, or border regions. The further they moved from the newsroom, the less immediate institutional protection they had. This vulnerability was especially acute for freelancers and small local newsrooms.
Weaponising law and isolating reporters
The risks became even more complicated when environmental reporting clashed with restrictive legal frameworks. Across Africa, governments frequently used laws related to cybersecurity, national security, and defamation to prosecute journalists. Vague provisions were often weaponised to criminalise legitimate journalism, particularly reporting that exposed corruption or public-sector inadequacies.
The 2026 RSF World Press Freedom Index highlighted the weaponisation of national-security and cybersecurity laws as a significant regional trend. RSF reported that 24 of sub-Saharan Africa’s 48 countries faced “difficult” press freedom conditions, while an additional five were classified as “very serious.” This totalled 29 countries in the region.
The Democratic Republic of Congo, where Shisso was detained, ranked 130th globally, underscoring severe security pressures on journalists.
Beyond legal threats, environmental journalists often faced a knowledge gap that isolated them. Mr. Ayeni noted that many communities, especially those affected by poverty, either did not understand environmental conservation’s importance or simply did not care. This disconnect left journalists vulnerable, often without necessary public support or institutional backing in dangerous situations.
Building resilience in a hostile landscape
Addressing these pervasive threats required more than generic safety advice; it demanded systemic changes. Dapo Olurunyomi stressed the need for specialised training that went beyond basic security protocols. Journalists needed to understand complex subjects like mining protocols, licensing regimes, and the financial flows underpinning natural resource exploitation.
Rethinking fundamental approaches, much like how Thomas Adeoye Lambo redefined mental healthcare in Africa, became crucial for newsroom strategies.
Fiona Macleod, founder of Oxpeckers Investigative Environmental Journalism Centre, observed that as environmental stories became more crucial to national economies, they inevitably clashed with powerful interests. This transformed a previously “nice to have” beat into an essential, yet dangerous, one.
Veteran journalist Gustavo Faleiros emphasised detailed preparation for high-risk environments. This included prior research, identifying reliable local contacts, and developing comprehensive plans before travel. Ayeni’s recent assignment in Kogi State illustrated this need, where he kept trusted contacts updated on his movements, creating an informal safety net.
However, individual caution could not replace institutional support. Newsrooms had to provide crucial resources, including security and first-aid training, emergency communication systems, legal support, and evacuation plans. This was especially vital for freelancers and those working in remote areas.
Olurunyomi also urged civil society organisations to leverage regional mechanisms, like the African Commission’s Special Rapporteur on Freedom of Expression, to provide additional protection for journalists under attack. Leveraging these regional human-rights mechanisms offered an additional layer of protection.
What this reveals about Nigeria
When environmental journalists are silenced, it is more than just a press freedom issue. It means communities are kept in the dark about the poisoning of their land and water, and the corruption surrounding resource extraction. Whether it was oil in the Niger Delta or other natural resources in the north, the truth about these operations remained hidden, allowing powerful actors to continue unchecked.
The stories of Damilola Ayeni and Stéphane Shisso serve as a stark warning. They reveal that in the struggle for Africa’s immense natural wealth, controlling the narrative is a critical battleground. For Nigeria, with its own history of resource conflict and complex social issues, these incidents highlighted the immense courage required to tell the real story and expose the systems enabling environmental degradation.
