Education
TSU Announces 2024 Annual Communication Week
Education
TSU’s CommWeek Positions School of Communication at the Forefront of AI, Innovation, and Student Success
HOUSTON, TX — Texas Southern University’s School of Communication is set to host its 44th Annual Media and Communication Conference (CommWeek 2026) from April 6–10 at the Martin Luther King Jr. Building, bringing together a dynamic mix of scholars, students, industry professionals, and civic leaders to examine the future of media in an increasingly digital and AI-driven world.
Widely regarded as one of the School’s signature academic and professional events, CommWeek has evolved into a powerful platform for intellectual exchange, industry engagement, and student-centered learning. This year’s theme, “Beyond the Algorithm: Reimagining Media, Learning & Innovation with AI,” reflects the growing influence of artificial intelligence across journalism, entertainment, digital storytelling, and communication education.
Throughout the week, participants will engage in a series of panels, workshops, masterclasses, and networking sessions designed to explore how emerging technologies are reshaping media ecosystems. Discussions will address critical topics such as AI-driven content creation, ethical considerations in automated communication, evolving media business models, and the future of audience engagement.
According to Interim Dean Dr. Alan K. Caldwell, CommWeek represents a strategic opportunity to elevate the School’s academic and professional profile.
“Communication Week represents more than a conference; it is a powerful platform to strengthen the School of Communication’s brand, showcase the excellence of our students and faculty, and highlight the innovative work happening across our programs,” Caldwell said. “By bringing together industry leaders, scholars, and alumni, we create collaborative connections that position our school as a hub for forward-thinking communication education.”
Conference Chair Dr. Anthony Obi Ogbo (left) and Interim Dean Dr. Alan K. Caldwell: CommWeek has evolved into a powerful platform for intellectual exchange, industry engagement, and student-centered learning.
In addition to its academic significance, CommWeek plays a vital role in advancing student success. A key highlight of the conference is the Dean’s Banquet and Scholarship Awards, which raises funds to support academically talented and financially underserved students. These scholarships help reduce financial barriers, cover tuition and educational resources, and improve student retention and graduation outcomes.
For Conference Chair Dr. Anthony Obi Ogbo, CommWeek 2026 represents both a continuation of tradition and a bold step toward the future of communication education.
“CommWeek is where scholarship meets practice and where innovation becomes accessible,” Ogbo said. “This conference is not only about examining the future of media—it is about preparing our students to lead it. By integrating academic rigor with industry insight, we are building a platform that empowers our students, strengthens our institutional identity, and fosters meaningful collaborations that extend far beyond the classroom.”
The conference also emphasizes experiential learning, offering students direct access to industry professionals, hands-on workshops, and career development opportunities. These interactions provide invaluable exposure to real-world practices and help bridge the gap between academic training and professional application.
As a historically Black university with a long-standing commitment to cultural responsiveness and community impact, Texas Southern University continues to position its School of Communication as a leader in preparing students for both local and global media landscapes. CommWeek reinforces this mission by creating an inclusive space where diverse voices, perspectives, and ideas can thrive.
Open to students, alumni, and the broader community, CommWeek 2026 is free to attend and serves as a testament to TSU’s commitment to accessibility, innovation, and academic excellence.
For more information and the full conference schedule, visit www.soc-commweek.com.
- Book Title: Abiriba Calendar of Events: Past and Present.
- Author: Dr. Nwojo Kalu Ugah and Prof. Igwe Ebe Udeh, PhD.
- Publishers: MIDIUN GROUP INC.
- Reviewer: Emeaba Onuma Emeaba.
- Pages: 129.
History is often a silent, monochromatic affair—a collection of graying facts relegated to the dusty corners of the academy. But every so often, a work arrives that refuses to let the past remain quiet. In their latest volume, Abiriba Calendar of Events: Past and Present, Dr. Nwojo Kalu Ugah and Prof. Igwe Ebe Udeh, PhD, do more than document a region; they stage a sensory intervention. Through a marriage of historical rigor and lively visual storytelling, the authors transform what might have been a static archive into a pulsing, audible record of the Abiriba people.
The importance of this intervention cannot be overstated. As a long-standing observer of the region’s social fabric, I find that this work stands as a thoughtful and valuable contribution to the documentation of Abiriba’s history, institutions, and cultural philosophy. It will serve both scholars and future generations as an important record of the distinctive republican heritage of the Abiriba people. It is a sentiment echoed throughout the three pages of glowing commendations that preface the text, where community titans and political leaders unite to praise a volume that has clearly become a communal milestone.
Dr. Ugah and Dr. Udeh’s most striking achievement is the “physicality” of the narrative. The book is heavily illustrated with archival photographs, many of which have been meticulously restored and brought into vivid color. By injecting color into the black-and-white silhouettes of the past, the authors collapse the distance between the contemporary reader and the historical subject. These images are literal and evidentiary; they do not merely “decorate” the text but are woven directly into the paragraphs. As the eye moves from a description of a festival to a photograph of dancers in mid-motion, the prose begins to hum.
However, the book’s unwavering devotion to preservation occasionally veers into the hagiographic. By focusing so intently on the “lively” and the “republican,” the authors sometimes sidestep the more uncomfortable frictions between these ancient rites and the complexities of the twenty-first century. One wishes for a more rigorous interrogation of how these traditions—some rooted in rigid social hierarchies or exclusionary practices—survive the scrutiny of a modern, globalized generation. At times, the narrative feels like a rescue mission so concerned with saving the artifacts that it forgets to ask whether the culture itself can sustain the weight of its own history without significant evolution. This idealistic lens, while beautiful, can occasionally obscure the very real internal conflicts that define a living, breathing community.
Despite this leaning toward the ideal, the book’s “sound” remains undeniable. The authors’ meticulous approach to sensory details suggests a profound sensitivity to the mechanics of cultural memory. By documenting the “snoring and bellowing” of the village drums—the ufĩẽ and the ikoro—with such granular detail, they transcend mere description. We see maidens of Am̃anta village daintily dressed for the Obina dance and Ukpo youths clothed in green ẹkọrọ weeds, and in doing so, we hear the pulse of the marketplace and the rhythm of the festival.
The volume’s sensory immersion is matched by its structural precision. Dr. Ugah and Dr. Udeh have included a comprehensive glossary of Abiriba terms, complete with English translations, ensuring that the “sound” of the culture is decoded for the uninitiated. This appendix is more than a utilitarian tool; it is a vital act of cultural rescue. By documenting the specific vocabulary of the month of Iri Am̃a or the legal principles of Onye Parị Ọba, the authors provide a permanent bridge between oral traditions and the written record.
In an era where history is often flattened by the passage of time, Dr. Ugah and Dr. Udeh have added depth and dimension back to the record. By the final page, the reader is left with the sense that they haven’t just read a history; they have witnessed a revival. They have ensured that, for the Abiriba people, the past will no longer be seen in shades of gray and will certainly no longer be silent.
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♦ Dr. Emeaba, the author of “A Dictionary of Literature,” writes dime novels in the style of the Onitsha Market Literature sub-genre.
- Book Title: The Making of Bourdex Telecom
- Author: David Ogba Onuoha Bourdex
- Publishers: Bourdex
- Reviewer: Emeaba Emeaba
- Pages: 127
In the history of Nigerian entrepreneurship, stories of audacity often begin with frustration. A man waits hours in a dimly lit government office to place a single overseas call, his ambitions held hostage by bureaucracy. From that moment of exasperation, an empire begins. Such is the animating pulse of The Making of Bourdex Telecom, David Ogba Onuoha Bourdex’s sweeping autobiographical account of one man’s effort to connect the disconnected and to rewrite the telecommunications map of Eastern Nigeria.
At once memoir, corporate history, and national parable, the book reconstructs the emergence of Bourdex Telecommunications Limited—the first indigenous private telecom provider in Nigeria’s South-East and South-South regions—against a backdrop of inefficiency, corruption, and infrastructural neglect. Its author, a businessman turned visionary, narrates not merely how a company was built but how a new horizon of possibility was forced open in a society long accustomed to closed doors.
Bourdex begins with a stark diagnosis of pre-deregulation Nigeria: a nation of over 120 million people served by fewer than a million telephone lines. Through a mix of statistical precision and personal recollection, he paints a portrait of communication as privilege, not right—of entire regions condemned to silence by state monopoly. His storytelling thrives in such contrasts: the entrepreneur sleeping upright in Lagos’s NET building to place an international call; the Italian businessman in Milan conducting deals with two sleek mobile phones. That juxtaposition—between deprivation and effortless connectivity—serves as the book’s moral axis.
From these moments of contrast, Bourdex constructs the founding myth of his enterprise. What began as an irritation became a revelation, then a crusade. “I saw a people left behind,” he writes, “a region cut off while others dialed into the future.” His insistence on framing technology as a means of liberation rather than profit underscores the moral ambition that threads through the book. The Making of Bourdex Telecom reads not like a manual of business success but like an ethical manifesto: to build not simply for gain, but for dignity.
As the chapters unfold, Bourdex’s narrative oscillates between vivid personal storytelling and granular technical detail. He recounts his early business dealings in the 1980s and ’90s, the bureaucratic mazes of NITEL, and the daring pursuit of a telecommunications license under General Sani Abacha’s military government. There is a cinematic quality to his recollections—the tense midnight meetings in Abuja, the coded alliances with military officers, the improbable friendships that turned policy into possibility.
These sections recall Chinua Achebe’s The Trouble with Nigeria in tone and intention: both works diagnose the systemic failures of governance but find redemption in individual initiative. Yet Bourdex’s narrative differs in form. Where Achebe offered moral critique, Bourdex offers demonstration—an anatomy of perseverance in motion. He documents the letters, negotiations, and international correspondences with Harris Canada, showing how an indigenous company emerged through sheer force of will and global collaboration.
Such passages risk overwhelming the reader with acronyms, specifications, and telecom jargon—R2 signaling, SS7 interconnection, E1 circuits—but they also lend the book an authenticity rare in corporate memoirs. What might have been opaque technicalities become, under Bourdex’s hand, instruments of drama. The machinery of communication becomes metaphor: wires and waves as extensions of faith and tenacity.
To situate The Making of Bourdex Telecom within Nigeria’s socio-political history is to confront the paradox of private enterprise under public decay. The book chronicles the twilight of NITEL’s monopoly, the hesitant dawn of deregulation, and the emergence of entrepreneurial actors who filled the void left by government paralysis. In this sense, Bourdex’s story parallels that of other indigenous pioneers—figures such as Mike Adenuga and Jim Ovia—whose ventures in telecommunications and banking transformed the national economy from the late 1990s onward.
Yet Bourdex’s tone is less triumphant than reflective. He does not romanticize deregulation; he portrays it as both opportunity and ordeal. The government’s inertia, the labyrinthine licensing process, and the outright extortion by state agencies form the darker undertones of his tale. His clash with NITEL’s leadership—recounted with controlled indignation—stands as one of the book’s most gripping sequences. When a senior official demanded an illegal payment of ₦20.8 million for interconnection rights, Bourdex’s defiant reply, “You are not God,” rang out like an act of civil disobedience. In such moments, the narrative transcends the genre of business autobiography and enters the moral theatre of national reform. The entrepreneur becomes citizen-prophet, challenging a corrupt establishment with the rhetoric of justice and self-belief. That blending of economic narrative with civic conscience is perhaps the book’s most compelling feature.
Stylistically, The Making of Bourdex Telecom occupies an intriguing space between oral history and polished memoir. The prose is direct, rhythmic, and often sermonic, reflecting its author’s background as both businessman and public speaker. Anecdotes unfold with the cadences of storytelling; sentences sometimes pulse with the energy of spoken word: “Amateurs built the Ark. Professionals built the Titanic.” The repetition of such aphorisms imbues the work with a sense of conviction, though occasionally at the expense of subtlety.
Where the book excels is in its evocation of atmosphere—the dusty highways between Aba and Lagos, the sterile corridors of power in Abuja, the crisp air of Calgary where the author first glimpsed technological modernity. These scenes transform what could have been a linear corporate chronicle into a textured work of memory.
Still, the narrative structure is not without flaws. The absence of an external editor’s restraint is occasionally felt in the pacing; digressions into technical exposition or moral reflection sometimes interrupt narrative flow. Readers accustomed to the concise storytelling of international business memoirs—Phil Knight’s Shoe Dog or Elon Musk’s authorized biography—may find the prose dense in places. Yet such density mirrors the complexity of the terrain Bourdex navigated. His sentences, like his towers, are built from layers of persistence.
Beyond its entrepreneurial chronicle, the book doubles as social history—a record of Eastern Nigeria’s encounter with modernization. The chapters on “The FUTO Boys,” a cadre of young engineers recruited from the Federal University of Technology, Owerri, offer a microcosm of the new Nigerian professional class emerging in the late 1990s: educated, idealistic, and determined to prove that technical expertise could thrive outside the state. Their improvisations—installing antennas by candlelight, building networks amid power outages—embody the collective grit that sustained Bourdex’s vision.
The narrative’s cumulative effect is generational. Through the story of one company, we glimpse a society in transition—from analogue isolation to digital awakening. The book captures that liminal moment when the sound of a dial tone became a symbol of freedom.
Running through The Making of Bourdex Telecom is a persistent theology of success. Bourdex attributes every turn in his journey to divine orchestration: friendships “placed by the Invisible Hand,” setbacks reinterpreted as “divine redirections.” Such language, while characteristic of Nigerian entrepreneurial spirituality, acquires here an almost literary force. It recasts corporate history as providential narrative, where the invisible infrastructure of grace mirrors the visible architecture of towers and transmitters.
For some readers, this piety may feel excessive; yet it provides the emotional coherence of the book. The author’s faith is not ornamental—it is constitutive. Without it, the story of Bourdex Telecom would read as mere ambition. With it, it becomes vocation.
The foreword by Abia State Governor Alex Otti and the preface by former Anambra Governor Peter Obi frame the book as both inspiration and instruction. They read Bourdex’s career as parable: the triumph of private initiative over public inertia. Yet their presence also situates the work within Nigeria’s broader discourse on nation-building. The Making of Bourdex Telecom is not only the autobiography of an entrepreneur; it is a treatise on indigenous agency—on what happens when Africans cease to wait for imported solutions and begin to engineer their own.
In this respect, the book extends its influence beyond its immediate industry. Its lessons—about courage, timing, friendship, and faith—extend to any field where innovation must contend with adversity.
Judged as a work of literature, The Making of Bourdex Telecom is direct and sincere. Its prose favors clarity over ornament, and its authenticity gives the story a compelling sense of truth. Bourdex writes not to embellish, but to bear witness—to a time, a struggle, and a conviction that technology could serve humanity. The result is a hybrid work: part documentary, part sermon, part memoir of enterprise.
As a contribution to Nigerian business literature, it deserves serious attention. Few firsthand accounts capture with such detail the messy birth of private telecommunications in the 1990s—a revolution that reshaped the country’s economic and social fabric. In its pages, we hear both the crackle of the first connected call and the larger resonance of a people finding their voice.
Bourdex’s central message endures: progress begins when frustration becomes purpose. His journey from the backrooms of NITEL to the boardrooms of international telecoms is not merely personal triumph; it is a chapter in Nigeria’s unfinished story of modernization.
In the end, The Making of Bourdex Telecom stands as more than the history of a company. It is an ode to enterprise as nation-building, and to the stubborn optimism of those who refuse to let silence define them.
See the book on Amazon: >>>>>
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♦ Dr. Emeaba, the author of “A Dictionary of Literature,” writes dime novels in the style of the Onitsha Market Literature sub-genre.
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