PR SHOTS: Allah Sarki, DITV! By Ahmed Balarabe Sa’id
Most Nigerians flipping through channels today have never heard of DITV. They see the polished sets of Lagos and Abuja studios and assume private television has always been this way. But before Channels, AIT, Arise TV, and the glitz of the Marina skyline beamed into living rooms across the country, there was a small, determined outfit in Kaduna that pioneered private broadcasting in Nigeria following the sector’s deregulation.
Desmims International Television (DITV) went live on June 2, 1994, making it the first licensed private TV station in Nigeria. For 30 years, it served an audience of over 40 million Hausa speakers. Yet, ask the average media consumer about DITV, and you will likely get a blank stare. An award from the Broadcasting Organisations of Nigeria (BON) is a recognition arriving at a painful moment. DITV is not where it should be.
I recall interviewing the station’s founder, legendary broadcaster Khalifa Baba-Ahmed, at the station’s 20th anniversary. In that one-on-one encounter, he shared his vision for the North, beyond his personal passion, including an unshaken resolve to occupy a place of reckoning in Nigeria’s broadcasting landscape. So, it was deeply disturbing when the station was unplugged in November 2024 over high operational running costs, including electricity bills and unpaid advertising debts.
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Let’s face it: the visibility gap is DITV’s tragedy here. DITV’s obscurity is not a failure of content but a product of Nigeria’s centralized media economy. Industry players know this sad truth. “National reach” remains code for “Lagos-approved.” Advertisers and critics alike consign Hausa-language, Northern-based content to a “regional” silo, regardless of audience loyalty or historical significance. DITV broke the monopoly, but the industry structure and the weight required to stay afloat demanded more from it.
What this represents for the North is a profound investment chill. The crippling cost of powering transmitters off-grid is brutal everywhere, but in the North, a shallower commercial advertising pool leaves zero margin for error. When the country’s first private station cannot survive operational costs and client defaults, it may signal to investors that the region lacks the commercial infrastructure to sustain media ventures.
But not entirely. Thankfully, we can see a different business model running for Trust TV and its elder contemporary, Liberty TV.
The questions raised by DITV’s story are, however, urgent. Can the NBC advocate for economic sustainability beyond Lagos? Will advertisers value 40 million Hausa speakers with equitable rates instead of “vernacular” discounts? What are the politics around northern TV platforms securing spaces on pay-TV (DTH) and Multichannel subscription services?
Ahmed Balarabe Sa’id, a strategic communicator writes from Kaduna
