An inspiring article worth reading by Clay Muganda.
Early last week, I was asked by a local television journalist if ever there was a person who was as cynical of local journalists as I was.
Early last week, I was asked by a local television journalist if ever there was a person who was as cynical of local journalists as I was.
Call it deliberate memory loss, but I purposefully refuse to remember what remark I had made to elicit that question.
In reply, though, I told him that my cynicism was
informed by the fact that I know us, the journalists, the media. I know
our strengths and shortcomings in equal measure and I am not afraid to
point them out when paeans are sung in our honour or when invectives are
hurled at us.
There was no further exchange and I have no idea
whether my inquisitor was satisfied or not, but what he did not know was
that, for quite some time, I have been asking myself what it is that
makes me, us, Kenyan journalists, so fickle, so feeble-minded, so
narcissistic that we think the sun rises out of our bedrooms.
If ever there were an exemplification of the
Biblical phrase “many were called but few were chosen”, we are it. We
are the untouchables, the sharpest pens in the drawer, the best brains
that ever came out of Africa.
We cannot stand being told to change direction
even when we have been blindfolded by the Government and are being
pushed in to an abyss.
You do not have to be an opportunistic foreign
journalist to realise that the Kenyan media is not only in bed with the
Government, but is also living in a make-believe world where milk and
honey flow from diamond-encrusted faucets built by the gods themselves.
The accusations that we numbed ourselves with
messages of peace, slept on the job, censored ourselves or preached
peace at the expense of justice during the recent elections are neither
here nor there. After all most, if not all, of our investments, kith and
kin are in this country and we had to employ all means to protect them.
But by numbing ourselves with messages of peace
and censoring ourselves, we were just admitting that, ever since the
“hostilities” ended in 2008, there has never been peace, that what we
have had is just a tinderbox waiting for the smallest spark to explode.
By censoring ourselves, and, by extension, the
people, we were conspiring with the Government to hide the fact that,
through its lopsided resettlement and compensation schemes, it had
failed to foster peace among different communities since the chaos of
five years ago.
Instead of being a watchdog, the media has turned
into a partner, a collaborator of the Government, a feat which the
latter achieved — knowingly or inadvertently — by continuously heaping
praises on the former as was witnessed during the recent elections, or
with semi-autonomous Government bodies incessantly dishing out awards to
the media, so much so that our work is nowadays not for viewers,
listeners or readers, but for media awards panelists.
As a matter of fact, the impact of our work is
nowadays not measured by how much it has helped change the lives of
Kenyans, but by the number of awards it has won.
It is, therefore, not uncommon for journalists to
say they are working on stories to be submitted for different awards, or
for them to take to the social media and start remarking how a story is
so going to win an award even before all of it is aired.
Of course there is nothing wrong with winning
awards, aiming to win awards or even being ambitious, but when you are
blinded by personal gain and bias and the urge to be ahead of an
imagined competition as opposed to informing and educating the public,
then you lose focus.
Let us not lie to ourselves, we are doing this
country more harm than good and we are not becoming better professionals
by continuously patting ourselves on the back, sometimes literally,
during live news broadcasts or by attacking those who point out our
shortcomings.
We are so fast in casting stones at others but we
lack the wherewithal to look within and see that the reports by foreign
journalists say more about our low level of understanding of the world
around us than about their high standards of journalism, considering
that they are called upon and paid more than double our yearly wage to
train us for less than a month.
For all the noise that we make about our
professionalism and independence, we have never remembered that we do
not even have a professional media body or a Press Club where we can
meet and share ideas or compare notes.
I will not write anything about the Editors’ Guild, Media Council of Kenya and Media Owners Association.
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