Opinion
By Tony Onyima
THE public apology issued by one Ejike Ofoegbu Experience, publisher of Igbo Times Magazine and INews, offers a stark glimpse into one of the most serious crises confronting journalism today: the deliberate manufacture of falsehoods for traffic, engagement and profit.
In his confession, Ofoegbu admitted to publishing fabricated stories and quotations attributed to Anambra State Governor Professor Chukwuma Charles Soludo and his family. These ranged from claims about disowning his son to allegations of alcoholism and domestic abuse.
These were not reporting errors or misunderstandings. By his own admission, they were invented. “I publicly admit that the stories I published were completely fake,” he stated, adding that his motive was “online traffic, audience engagement, and financial gain.”
That admission exposes the core of the modern disinformation economy. The internet has democratised information, allowing anyone, trained and untrained, to publish content that can reach millions. While this has expanded access and amplified diverse voices, it has also created a vast market for falsehood. In fact, it has created a booming business of falsehood.
In the attention economy, clicks generate revenue. Outrage drives engagement. Algorithms reward emotionally charged content, regardless of accuracy. As a result, sensational lies often spread faster than verified truths.
The Ofoegbu case illustrates this dynamic. Fabricated quotations were presented as breaking news without evidence, purely to attract attention and profit. This is where misinformation becomes disinformation —falsehood deliberately created to mislead. When a publisher knowingly invents statements and presents them as fact, it is not poor journalism but a corruption of the information ecosystem. Retractions matter, but they rarely undo the harm of viral falsehoods. By the time a story is corrected, it may have been screenshotted, shared across platforms and indexed online. Many who saw the original claim will never see the correction.
This creates a key asymmetry: the lie and its correction rarely travel together. A false claim can spread widely within hours, shaping perceptions long after it is debunked. Reputations built over decades can be damaged in minutes. For public figures, fabricated stories can inflame divisions and distort public opinion. For ordinary individuals, the consequences can be even more severe — loss of employment, harassment or social stigma. The damage extends far beyond the initial publication.
The Ofoegbu case raises questions about who qualifies as a journalist in an era where anyone can create a “news” platform. Journalism is defined not by tools but by principles: verification, accuracy, fairness and accountability. Deliberately inventing statements and attributing them to others violates these standards entirely.
The proliferation of pseudo-news platforms erodes trust in legitimate journalism. When audiences repeatedly encounter fabricated stories presented as news, they may become cynical about all media. The result is an epistemic crisis: citizens no longer know what to believe. Ironically, the citizens often like such reckless adventure masquerading as journalism because it is titillating. But it erodes trust massively, and when trust collapses, democracy suffers.
Fabricated quotations are particularly dangerous because they carry inherent authority. Readers assume quoted words were actually spoken. This makes them powerful tools for deception. An invented statement can portray someone as corrupt, abusive, or incompetent, making it appear more credible than a general allegation.
Digital platforms amplify this effect. A photo paired with a sensational quote can spread rapidly across networks, gaining credibility through repetition.
But repetition does not equal truth. Publishers are not the only actors in the misinformation chain. Every user who shares unverified content contributes to its spread.
Before sharing, users should ask: Is the source credible? Is there evidence? Have reputable outlets reported it? The principle remains simple: extraordinary claims require stronger verification. Yet digital culture prioritises speed over accuracy. The share button is not neutral — amplifying falsehood can cause real harm. Digital citizenship requires restraint.
Disinformation is especially dangerous in politics. It can manipulate elections, deepen divisions and undermine trust in institutions. In polarised environments, people are more likely to believe false claims about opponents, reinforced by confirmation bias. Nigeria’s political landscape is particularly vulnerable. The Ofoegbu apology itself acknowledges false stories involving both Governor Soludo and former governor Peter Obi, showing how disinformation intersects with political rivalry.
The danger is not just reputational damage but citizens making decisions based on falsehoods. A democracy cannot function when voters are systematically misled.
Advances in artificial intelligence are intensifying the problem. It is now possible to generate realistic fake images, videos and audio with minimal resources.
This means seeing or hearing something is no longer reliable proof of authenticity. The warning must evolve: do not automatically believe everything you see or hear online. While AI can aid verification, the core issues remain human — ethics, intent and accountability.
Online publication carries real legal and ethical consequences. Defamatory content does not become harmless because it appears on social media. At the same time, efforts to combat disinformation must not suppress legitimate journalism or dissent. Public officials must tolerate scrutiny, but fabrication is not protected expression. The distinction is clear: criticism is legitimate; invention is not. Freedom of expression does not include the right to manufacture reality.
Disinformation’s greatest casualty is trust. Each fabricated story undermines confidence in legitimate journalism and allows public figures to dismiss accurate reporting as “fake news.” This creates the “liar’s dividend,” where genuine evidence can be denied as fabricated. Disinformation not only spreads falsehoods but also erodes belief in truth itself. The Ofoegbu apology is more than an isolated incident; it reflects systemic incentives in the digital information economy.
It highlights key lessons: traffic cannot replace truth; speed increases both reach and responsibility; retractions cannot fully repair damage; audiences share responsibility for verification; journalism must uphold rigorous standards; and fabrications must not be normalised as harmless content.
The digital revolution has expanded access to information, but not necessarily to truth. Truth requires verification, context and accountability. Lies are easier to produce and spread. The apology is a warning about an ecosystem in which reputation can be sacrificed for clicks and outrage is monetised. The deeper issue is not just why one publisher fabricated stories, but why the system rewards such behaviour and how it can be changed. An apology can retract a story, but it cannot erase its impact.
That is why the obligation to verify before publishing is more urgent than ever. Once a lie enters the digital bloodstream, its reach and its damage cannot be fully controlled.
Tags: Digital citizenship Ofoegbu