A prescription for the Press

That the media in Kenya is among the most vibrant anywhere in the world has never been in question. What has never been in doubt is that our media is sick. Very sick, actually. A blind pursuit of individual and corporate profit, an obvious lack of direction, massive corruption, tribalism and lack of professionalism at every level are some of our monumental failings. There is urgent need for the government, private sector and non governmental organisations to open up more outlets to carry the views of both majority, rural based communities and smaller, marginalized minority groups scattered around the countryside. Recent investments in both the print and electronic media, demonstrated by such outlets as Waumini Radio, IQRA FM, Ramogi FM, Kameme FM, Kiss FM, etc, and the handful of newspapers, magazines, internet blogs and in house newsletters are a welcome addition to the expanding space for free expression.

More media outlets are a boon for democracy and a channel for advertisers. They are buttresses against potential dictatorship either by dominant groups or by politicians. The more, the merrier. There’s strength in numbers. Let cooperative societies, trade unions, religious groups and corporate organizations invest in monthly, weekly and even daily newspapers. Let us have more and more radio stations and televisions in every town and every city in this country.

Professionalization

There is need to strengthen the training of journalists and streamline the operations of media associations. Self-regulation, like the lawyers do through the Law Society of Kenya, is the best way to minimize conflict between the media and the powers that be. It is also the best way to ensure professionalism. Practicing journalists must form new or join existing unions/associations to fight for the betterment of working conditions and rights of journalists/correspondents. The growth of the Media Council of Kenya is a step in the right direction. Strengthening of existing media organizations through membership and subscriptions to journalists’ organisations is one sure way to professionalize. Journalists must be willing to train and retrain themselves, to specialize, to get a better grasp of their trade, to keep up with new trends in academics and technology in the practice. They must keep an eye on training opportunities/scholarships/workshops, seminars and at-tend journalists’ meetings. It is encouraging to note that the Kenya Union of Journalists is trying to do something about the so-called gutter press, negotiating for a middle ground between the state and the press. Trainings should be organized for business people and politicians to help them understand how the media operates, and to make the media more acceptable to everyone.

Repackaging, repositioning and rebranding

The press must move from being merely confrontational for the sake of it into a responsible stakeholder in development, conflict resolution, and poverty alleviation. It must strive to uplift the educational and material lives of the vast majority of citizens whom it claims to speak for. The press often harps about its true as watchdog of society, but in a world where poverty, ignorance and disease have refused to go away, it has an even more urgent role. If we can’t fight poverty, ignorance and disease; we have no business giving acres of space and hours to political bickering. We must support development efforts in science and technology and best practices in management, and not be overly concerned with who is going to be the next president. Cashing in on sleaze, sexual scandal and petty differences between politicians is no way forward, it only earns us disrepute. Correspondents need to work more closely with all local leaders and stakeholders for effective communication, and avoid throwing stones from the periphery. A serious press for a developing economy like ours should be more concerned about human rights, how our taxes are being (mis)used, the falling standards of education, HIV/Aids infection rates, development, cultural solidarity, and other bread and butter issues; not foreign celebrities, sex and verbal wrangles between vain, selfish politicians.

Overhaul journalism training

There is an urgent need to overhaul journalism training. But what is there is to overhaul? Without a proper and wide grounding in scholarship and good grammar and style, it is futile to try to teach young people to become interpreters and explainers of public policy. While their enthusiasm is sometimes overwhelming, many journalists are held back by lack of exposure, limited awareness of national and global issues and even basic parliamentary or court procedures. Journalism training today is like putting the cart before the horse. A journalist with a masters degree in education, for instance is better placed to write authoritatively about education issues that a high school leaver. Good journalists are very much like good teachers: simplifying and clarifying technical information, interpreting government policy, helping farmers understand how their fate is being sealed at the Word Trade Organisation ministerials. They should not be publishing sleaze or scandal or reveling in obscenity and nudity. Good news organizations and writers’ unions ought to be participating in structures that promote effective public participation in public affairs, demanding transparency and accountability from leaders, creating awareness to embolden people to rise up and ask questions about public funds. They should not be covering up for bad leaders in the name of tribalism or corruption.

Taking over the media

My biggest dream has been that journalists in this country will take charge of their destiny by owning media houses. By buying shares and investing their money in media outlets, journalists can actually push for more space in media debates, talk coherently together and make a stake in free speech. They can then determine how much they earn and how fast the industry grows. Journalists, even as they crusade for other people’s rights, must resist vehemently when their own rights are trampled upon by moneyed politicians and industrialists. Yapping about lack of free speech, corruption and mismanagement is fine, but it’s equally important for us to have our cake, too. It is a brave new world of IPOs and shareholding. Where are the journalists?

My beef with Macharia Gaitho

The media should stop stoking fires of tribalism

Belittling Raila’s cries over insecurity is careless tribalism

For a long time, I have always held The Nation newspaper in very high regard, not only because I am journalist myself, but also because its columnists often write with wit, balance, informed aloofness, haloed authority and knowledge on a number of issues every day.

Macharia Gaitho happens to be one of the columnists I read avidly and respectfully. He occupies the enviable position of Managing Editor in charge of special projects at the great newspaper. Whatever that title means. But the Macharia who wrote ‘Remember the boy who cried Wolf?’ (Daily Nation, November 14, 2006), revealed an unspeakable and shameful tribal chauvinism that is quickly creeping into media circles.

Journalists, like everyone else, have a duty and a responsibility to preserve national peace. They don’t do this by out-shouting and inflaming one group to massage the ego of the other side. I can only compare his piece to what Muthui Kariuki wrote on Monday, 30 October, 2006 in the same paper. Muthui’s piece, entitled “ODM must stop being silly about pumbavu’ sought to pour salt into the wounds we nurse every time the head of state uses that stinging, shameful word on a people who voted him to power.

Muthui wanted Kenyans to take Kibaki’s outright and frequent insults as ‘jocular and witty.’ What cheek! But Muthui is small fry, so he may get away with a lame defence of Kibaki’s unexplained outburtsts. But not the giant Nation newspaper. And certainly not Macharia Gaitho. Why should Macharia’s shallow piece of highly opinionated tribal journalism be let loose in such a prominent page of a mass circulation newspaper? Why should a respectable media choose to pass outright insult as witty asides? Even the wittiest jokes should strive to be in good taste, especially if they come from a man of high social standing, like a head of state. For some strange reason, Macharia deliberately downplayed the growing insecurity problem when he compared the politician’s recent claims that his life is in danger to the boy in the story who cried wolf The Nation, more than any other media house, cannot afford to turn a blind eye to rising insecurity by describing anyone who claims their life is in danger as an alarmist.

Every Kenyan life is in constant danger all the time everywhere. Innocent people are being killed by thugs, police and even their neighbours every day from Likia to Mathare to Kibera. Some parts of this city fell into the hands of goons many years ago. Now they are being slaughtered like chicken, yet it is in the fervent hope for a better life that we voted Moi out of power. Macharia wants to get away with sweeping statements like these:

“It is easy to say that the era of political assassinations ended with the installation of President Kibaki’s government.”

“Maybe the fellows were neither mercenaries nor assassins. The possibility is that they were just common thugs who happened to mesmerise some people close to high office and sought to use those connections to set up a criminal network.”

 I do not want to ask what became of the report on inquiry on the death of Robert Ouko. Or the other report on the Artur brothers (who went around desecrating state house and state security with such impunity). Nor will I ask what happened to university lecturer Odhiambo Mbai.

If Kenya is so peaceful and Raila is simply crying wolf, like Gaitho and his ilk would have us believe, who in heaven’s name would want to kill internal security minister John Michuki? Who would have a grudge with Kisumu Rural MP Anyang Nyongo and his wife? Why the clashes are flaring up again months before the general elections? And why does the Mungiki menace refuse to go away? Why are ministers and ordinary people alike living in the shadow of death?

If we can’t get answers to these questions, we must all admit that we have a serious security problem. And no one is crying wolf.

10 Confusions and the Future of Journalism

By otieno amisi

Media practice in the world today is more intriguing, more challenging than ever. Hundreds of journalists are killed, arrested, molested, threatened or maimed every year. All over the world, journalists work under extremely hostile conditions, even in times of relative peace. But beneath the risks is an incomparable thrill and joy that journalists derive from being the first witnesses of history, the first recorders of history. With the coming of cutting-edge technology and new methods of news-gathering and dissemination, journalism remains one of the most challenging, thrilling and satisfying jobs on earth.

The following is a summary of some challenges facing journalists in Kenya.

Confusion Number One: Few players, limited scope The first confusion is that media in Kenya is in the viscous metallic grip of a few multi national companies or a handful of rich, politically powerful or influential people. Even established media houses are still owned by a small clique of very rich people, often allied to political forces. Of the so called alternative press, there is nothing much to write home about except the occasional, poorly laid out, badly edited yellow leaves that paper the dusty pavements of our cities. Due to the huge financial and political implications involved, media freedom and democracy in Kenya is still in the hands of a few who can have their voices, views and images multiplied across the republic’s 30 million pairs of eyes and ears. The costs involved in installing equipment for printing and broadcasting puts off many struggling media outlets, and neither the private sector nor non-governmental organizations have put in place mechanisms to support a meaningful press. As a result, many operators of off stream publications and FM stations are hardly able to keep afloat financially. This pressure means journalists are not as free as they ought to be. Every day, stories are spiked or doctored because they may hurt the feelings of the rich, mighty or powerful. Many stories do not see the light of day because they may upset the apple cart of advertisers, religious or political powerhouses.

Confusion Number Two: Too much ado about Nairobi The mainstream press is urban centered, elitist and vulnerable to influence by the mighty and powerful. This means that freedom of expression, though enshrined in the United Nations Charter to which Kenya is a subscriber, is severely curtailed. Even the few successful media houses have little influence in rural areas, a state of affairs which means that much of news about Kenya is still Nairobi based. Many journalists find themselves helpless because of this urban focus, as they are often unable to articulate the issues of importance to the majority of people who live outside Nairobi, Kisumu or Mombasa. Frustration is rife among rural journalists at the hands of city editors who ‘kill’, ‘spike’ or ‘trash’ up-country stories. The agenda is not set in the struggling, sun baked, hungry and disease infested countryside, but in posh hotels whose conference tables are crowded with bottled mineral water. Yet development journalism is about the poor slum dweller and the rural tax payers who form the majority of citizens in a developing country. The journalist must never forget himself in the urban jungle, nor must he forget the downtrodden.

Confusion Number Three: Too much sensitivity, too much irresponsibility The political climate in Kenya is generally hostile towards the practice of journalism. This hostility is deeply engraved in both the legal system and the psyche of the establishment. Government officers keep referring journalists to higher offices, saying they are not allowed to speak to the press. Frequently, politicians interfere with the free operation of journalism by influencing what passes as news, opinion or even fact. Because they are shareholders in the mainstream media houses or own the firms that sustain the press through advertising, Kenya’s politicians often react sluggishly when asked for what should be public information, or swiftly and brutally to clip the wings of the media whenever their undemocratic views and interests are challenged by journalists. Furthermore, certain clauses in the constitution still limit the freedom to gather and disseminate information. Legislation has been a bottleneck in press freedom for decade even after Kenya won independence from colonialists forty years ago. The courts have been used to further suppress the gutter press by imposing huge fines as compensation for libel.  

Confusion Number Four: Too little education, too little focus Nearly 90 per cent of stories are filed by reporters who have hardly seen the inside of a media training college. The quality of training offered by journalism schools is a matter for another day, but few media managers are themselves academically grounded in the workings of the press or can barely afford to pay a professionally trained editor worth his salt. A bitter consequence of this is that many newspapers and radio stations are run by people who have no regard for professional ethics. Little wonder, then, that our newsstands and airwaves are littered with pungent trivia, sleazy, speculation and sensationalism at the expense of truth, decency and objectivity. Unfortunately, this irresponsibility has reared its ugly head in the once respectable Sunday press and struggling weeklies, giving way to escapism, speculation, gossip and rumour.

Confusion Number Five: Too many languages, too few speakers Many Kenyans speak a smattering of English and Kiswahili, though the majority of people would be more comfortable listening to or reading news in any of their 48 mother tongues. This huge number of languages has only handfuls of speakers and listeners who can barely read or respond intelligently to national issues. The education and language policies in practice have tended to favour English as the language of business and office practice, which in turn has stagnated the development and appreciation of local languages. Because of low levels of literacy, many people are unable to comprehend the intricacies of national debate in English, the preferred language of the mass media.  

Confusion Number Six: The shrinking cake Money or the box? It’s business, not ideology. Newspaper, radio and TV production is dear. The cost of rent, staff salaries, licenses, equipment, etc. must be met by someone. That someone, too is a citizen of the country and must not be arbitrarily denied access to the media, especially when they have a new product to tell the world about. Without this “dirty” money, few journalists would have the opportunity to express the freedom and democracy they yap so vehemently about. Good advertisers are few and far between, and there are more media outlets competing for the same cake. We cannot afford to dismiss advertisers simply because some journalist does not like them for the heck of it.

Confusion Number Seven: Jacks of all trades and masters of none Most practicing correspondents are often employed elsewhere or jobless, untrained and poorly paid. Their commitment elsewhere, or lack of it here, means they are often unable to specialize in any genre of reportage or concentrate on specific themes. A correspondent covering a district, for instance, is hardly prepared to follow a story to the full, merely stumbling on a different story each day, often at the whims of his editor who has no grasp of the real issues on the ground. Such journalists are often vulnerable to manipulation in the form of intimidation, bribery, or other form of coercion by sources, advertisers and politicians.  

Confusion Number Eight: Too few roads, too many destinations Most rural areas where correspondents are based have a big problem of poor roads, lack of telephone facilities, and e-mail services among others. This poor infrastructure severely inhibits the work of journalists, which is heavily de-pendent on efficient means of communication. Put this against the reality of 80 per cent rural content in our mainstream media, and you see why we aren’t getting anywhere.

Confusion Number Nine: The power and the glamour Journalism is probably the only job where you can get sacked before you are employed. These semi educated, uninsured, uncontracted workers are expected to overcome the temptation of bribery, gifts and lifts from source, surmount the travails of poor communication and churn out timely, fool proof tales that make the rich smile. They hardly have any allowances for research or stationery, let alone money to buy a phone card, or pay for fax service, e-mail or the much needed picture worth a thousand words. Yet thousands of young people are attracted to the profession like moths to a candle light, consoling themselves at the first sight of their bylines.

Confusion Number Ten: That anyone can be a writer In the last ten years, there has been an upsurge of the number of back-street colleges offering journalism and related studies. This tendency to include everyone in media practice – those who failed to make it elsewhere, those who have nothing to offer, those who are attracted to the profession by its glamour – has severely compromised journalism standards in this country. The media is quickly being gobbled up by ‘writers,’ ‘editors’ and ‘sub editors’ and even managers who can hardly write a complete sentence, leave alone an intelligent commentary. Furthermore, many newspapers are on the streets for the sheer purpose of extorting money from sources, and not because they serve any meaningful social or literary purpose.

Otieno Amisi has worked in various capacities in the media in Kenya over the last fifteen years. This essay has been extracted from his forthcoming book, Write that Story.

Literary wave sweeps over East Africa

By Mbaratho Mulago, Immaculate mwende

An interesting cultural wave is blowing across East Africa again, thanks to a dare-devil group of renegade writers going by the name Kwani?

Two very interesting literary events passed so quietly by in the last few weeks I felt we were on the edge of a cultural precipice. One was a little publicised writers’ workshop held towards the end of September. The other was the recently held Nairobi International book fair. The first, the East African Writers’ Summit, held at the remote campsite of Lukenya a few kilometres away from the hustle and bustle of Nairobi, brought together an unusual congregation of scribes from Uganda, Tanzania and Kenya. Internet-savvy bloggers like Al Kags (The Kenyan Tenses) Potash and James Murua (Nairobi Living dot com) and stand-up-one-line poets like Marion Vionna mingled with literary researchers, journalists and editors. There was even the rare motivational speaker, a school teacher and a sprinkle of hip hop artists like Kenya’s Kamau Vigeti and Moseti Kamanda.
Kenya’s Stanely Gazemba (The Stone hills of Maragoli).and Caine Prize names like Binyavanga Wainaina, Yvonne Owuor, Parselelo Ole Kantai and Muthoni Garland were present too. So was Ugandan’s Juanita Buwelira Wandera, remembered for her role in Missisipi Masala and The Last King of Scotland as well as
Kenya’s Simiyu Barasa, who is currently working on Makutano Junction a popular KBC TV show. Uganda was also represented by Beverly Nambozo, Patrick Choria and Margaret Aduto, while writers from Tanzania included Sandra Mushi.

In short, the Lukenya gathering was a melting pot of ideas and skills. Internet-savvy writers swaggered in with the latest publishing gadgets like ipods and lap top computers, while their humbled colleagues ambled in with traditional paper notebooks and good old spontaneity. Topics discussed ranged from book marketing, the influence of new technology on the craft of writing, and the need for a support fund for writers. It emerged that while many writers are unhappy with conventional publishers, few writers take research seriously or devote time to edit and re-write their works before knocking on publishers’ doors.

The tired chorus of literary barrenness reared its ugly head when Otieno Amisi rose to present a paper on reading habits of East Africans. But Amisi’s paper, titled “Towards a Reading Nation,” tried to shatter the myth of literary barrenness that Sudanese writer Taban Lo Liyong popularised forty years ago. Citing the growing number of publishers and writers, Amisi argued that the publishing and literary industry is more alive and vibrant than it has ever been since the days of Okot P Bitek and Ngugi wa Thiongo. One of the most interesting moments during the recently concluded Nairobi International book fair was when Kwani, a group of renegade quasi -literate, organised a debate on Sheng. For years, a furious debate has been raging in literary and journalistic circles over the informal and fluid dialect that is a fusion of Swahili, English and a host of indigenous Kenyan languages.

But it was a little known publisher Richard Obudho who, with his recent announcement that he and the Kenya Publishers Association, which he represents, were about to go full throttle into publishing books in Sheng. Obudho, better known for his Urban Quarterly magazine and as a geography professor at the University of Nairobi had probably not anticipated the furore that would accompany his pronouncement. So when he was called upon to clear the air over his recent declaration on the rogue language, the don declined to speak before the group of livid journalists and scholars who had gathered at the lower ground floor of the Sarit Centre. That morning, a furious Clay Muganda, a popular columnist with the Daily Nation had condemned Sheng as “Kenya’s amorphous, shifty and informal street language, which does not have a commercial value and which borrows from a myriad languages.”

Muganda carried the argument further, adding that Sheng is nothing new, and that it was leading its speakers nowhere because “there is no one time books will be written in sheng. He admitted nevertheless that Sheng had its speakers, but that it should be kept to its ‘appropriate contexts.’ But Professor X.N. Iraqi, a lecturer of French at Nairobi’s United States International University, argued that the time had come to officially recognise Sheng as a language. “Or it is not a language?” he retorted. Iraqi argues that Sheng is an old language but had been that had been shunted to the periphery by scholars. Karen Wanjiru who writes a popular Sheng column in East Africa’s most respected Swahili newspaper, said contrary to what many detractors think, Sheng is not a threat to either formal Swahili of English. “By writing in Sheng, I want to prove that it is being spoken and nothing can be done to put it away” she says. Quips Khama of Ukoo Fulani, a hip hop group that has popularised the language through their music, “Even the President speaks Sheng, so what are we waiting for?” Columnist Oyunga Pala concurs, saying, “at least, at last, here is something truly ours for once, which unites us, and which we haven’t inherited. It distinguishes us from the rest of the world.” Arguments aside, the potential value of Sheng is laid bare in Nairobi’s huge billboards and FM radio stations, where it has quickly become the choice language of advertising.

Perhaps, in adverts like bamba 50, one home grown mobile telephone service provider has achieved more than its rival’s uncertain punctuation of formal English.

Will publishing in Sheng standardise it, or bastardise it? Will dictionaries and text books confine this language, or merely enable it to spread its powerful wings of fluidity over those ivory towers of alleged literary barrenness? Should Sheng be left to ‘mature’ with time, like old wine, before publishers begin to invest in it?  

Uganda: the land of a thousand hills

Otieno Amisi recently visited Uganda, where the Queen of England is expected early next year.

When the Queen of England visits the Pearl of Africa, she may learn one more thing about Uganda’s capital city, Kampala.
The famed city does not stand on seven hills as is generally believed. Kampala is proudly spread over no less than fourteen even, well rounded hills.
From the top of Buziga Hill, one can see Konge, Nagulu, and Muyenga Hills. One can also see Kololo, where the crème de la crème of Uganda live in dream like stately mansions. There is also Makindye and Kivirii. To the North is Makerere, famed for hosting the oldest University in East Africa. Then there is Mulago, with its famous hospital and Banda, Luvaga and Namirembe. Nakasero, and Mutundwe.
Kampala is abuzz with talk of the Queen’s planned visit, scheduled for early next year. The city is being spruced up in our typical Afri-cities summit style, with trees being planted all over the place and ever dusty pot holed roads are being refilled and repainted.
When she finally arrives, the queen will stay at Speke Hotel, a new, five star resort named after the famous British explorer whom historians wrongfully credited with discovering the source of the River Nile.
She will learn that where the spotless hotel lies is not exactly where the River Nile begins its journey of some 2,000 kilometres across Northern Africa.
But for Peter Mukisa Katonga, a guard at Buziga Hill, the Queen’s visit has a deeper meaning. Like many Baganda people, the wings of Katonga ‘s heart flaps with joy at the mention of the monarchy, which was systematically sidelined over the years by British colonial and then democratic rule. He hopes it will be a time to reflect on the role of the monarchy in 21st century Uganda.
Katonga hopes that the government, while welcoming the Queen, will give heed to the dying dynasty and even put it back in its rightful place.
She is likely to visit the lonely majestic house at the top of Bugiri Hill, where we found Katonga sitting pensively on the rugged steps. The house once belonged to Lord Ford, a hugely successful brewer and who was forced to flee the country at the height of dictator Idi Amin’s brutal rule in the early 1980s. The house, at the topmost of Buziga Hill on the Western end of Kampala city, was built in the 1940s, and its ownership will soon be transferred to King Ronald Mutebi, the King of Buganda.
The queen may also observe that unlike many cities she has been to, Kampala is not in a hurry. It comes to life at 10am, long after the sun has risen — and goes to bed early. The cyber cafes are few and far between and the computers, when they work, are annoyingly slow.
The soldiers are strange. Like the night watchmen and guards, they speak a smattering of English and Kiswahili, and carry live guns. The soldiers adorn jungle jackets, while the watchmen wear the blue and dark red colours of our matatu crews.
In the countryside, banana plants shoot off the roadside with the dexterity of Kenya’s kiosks. From the Kenyan side, the landscape all the way to Kampala is a breathtaking beauty that even the gigantic humming power lines from Jinja dare not interrupt.
Birds sing and clap mid air to the rhythm of swaying sugar cane and pawpaw stems swaying over the rolling hills of Iganga and Lugazi .
All over the land, Tororo Cement is a clearly visible brand, followed by Uganda Telkom’s ‘All about U’ At Mukono, a few kilometers from Kampala, tiled roofs spring suddenly from the forest of palm trees and sugar cane plantations. Hawkers, dressed in clean, blue numbered jackets carry aloft roast chicken legs stuck on wooden sticks, roasted bananas and roasted maize.
From the top of Buziga Hill, the same roast feeling comes back as I watch the vast expanse of roasted red brick houses smiling over the lesser houses at the bottom of the numerous valleys.