No, no, not "that" kind of shooting...I mean shooting of photographs - or "snapping" as it's called here.
I've been doing workshops on photographic technique, composition, business and ethics for the Indigenous Photographers Union of Sierra Leone and the final "class" ended with a fieldtrip through town. Can you imagine... 60 photographers gathering at the Congo Cross junction to march and snap down to the Youyie Building - where most of the government ministries are located. It was a photographic extravaganza.
There we were... snapping, talking to people, getting people to pose, stopping traffic, doing portraits of police officers, snapping billboards and graffiti... shooting buildings... and wrapping up our workshop series.
It was an awesome sight... and it was the first of its kind in Sierra Leone. Wow... it almost felt like a "movement" or the blossoming of an industry. Very cool.
Most - probably 90% of the photographers still shoot with colour film (there's no such thing as B&W film here anymore) and most photographers are using film cameras that are at least ten years old. Manual focus, manual wind, no light meters, some with no controls or dials that work... and yet we made it all work. I'll be doing a "post-workshop evaluation" next week where we'll be looking at several samples from each of the photographers... so that should be interesting. Then, the Union wants to enlarge and frame the best photos for exhibition. Wow. What a good idea.
It was awesome and I'll try to upload some images from the fieldtrip.
Gotta love technology... or the lack of it.
Stephen
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Two sides of the same coin…
The statistics don’t lie… Sierra Leone ranks among the lowest of the low (sometimes sitting on the very bottom) of almost all United Nations, World Bank and development analysis. From infant and maternal mortality to unemployment… From poverty levels to illiteracy rates… From average life expectancy to gross domestic product and exports… Sierra Leone is a desperate place.
But, there’s a flip side to the Sierra Leone coin and I’ve had a brief glimpse at that burgeoning underside. Actually, it’s the top-side of the coin… and it remains elusive and mostly hidden behind high, razor-wired, concrete walls and darkened SUV windows. There is a small but elite group… mostly foreign, among our populace. They are here… preserved and rarefied.
Country Lodge, a rather understated moniker for the country’s swankiest hotel, overlooks the city and out over the ocean from the heights of Hill Station. If you’ve got enough money or the right connections, you’ll be invited up the bumpy, winding road to the reserved heights of western amenities. No bucket baths in this place… gleaming tile, tablecloths, western food and an outdoor pool and hot tub are available for about $150 a night. The price alone prevents most locals from visiting… so only the well-heeled traveller and occasional UN or international aid group can afford to wine and dine there.
I managed to wrangle an invitation to a reception at Country Lodge hosted by UNICEF for the visiting African director… and enjoyed “nibbles” and a double gin-and-tonic on their bill. It was my first visit to the place and I realized, zipping up the hill and through the monstrous iron gates on the back of an okada (little motorcycle taxi), was probably a touch inappropriate… given the lines of white SUVs and untarnished luxury motorcars. I did get a few looks but have realized that the colour of my skin allows me a certain flexibility among the glitterati.
And speaking of glitter… Sierra Leone is home to some of the world’s largest diamond, gold, bauxite and mineral mines. In fact, the Kono district in the south east of the country is infamous for its foreign-owned diamond mining. (the movie “Blood Diamond” is based on the plentiful diamonds that helped fund dictators, rebellions and heinous acts of suffering) Apparently, throughout the 70s and pre-conflict, diamonds could be found on the streets and paths following a heavy rain. The interesting thing is that Sierra Leone has this incredible wealth – gold and diamonds – only a scratch beneath the dirt surface and yet people and villages are dirt poor. The money is there but it’s quickly siphoned away by a very few wealthy mining companies and individuals.
The country’s natural resources are plentiful – lumber (although there are now environmental factors contributing to the industry’s downfall), fruit and vegetables, spices, minerals, fertile grounds, sunny skies and warm temperatures yet there’s almost no industry or manufacturing here. For example, mangoes and coconut grow everywhere and 95% of the crops are wasted or rot on the trees. I regularly buy mangoes on the street where they’re sold for pennies but nothing is refined or finished… You’d think I’d be able to get a fresh, delicious mango fruit drink or shake somewhere… but no… I end up buying stale-dated Ceres tetra paks instead.
Speaking of manufacturing and industrialization… that reminds me of another one of the more glaring examples of this two-sided coin. Electicity – or the lack of power to the people, as I’ve written before. The President keeps saying, “oh, it’s coming next month, next week, tomorrow,” but it’s been almost 25 years in the making including several regime and government changes along the way. It seems there are certain areas of Freetown that have been designated “essential” including the president’s compound, the State House, a bank or two and several of the more infamous hotels. Country Lodge, for example, is on the same hill as the president’s home and thus enjoys almost 24-hour electricity. I should add that many of the houses I passed on my way up the hill were without power. Infrastructure, including power lines, are rare commodities.
Some areas in the western part of Freetown have more power than others. I know one area that enjoys about eight hours a day of NPA (National Power Authority) electricity… and coincidentally that neighbourhood is up Wilkinson Road and home to many UN staffers and aid groups. The east, on the other hand, has very little electricity and is home to the poorest areas in the country. It seems you have to live in the right area… or on the “right” side of the tracks to enjoy even the slightest flickers of electricity.
There’s a bar at the western most end of Lumley Beach called the Atlantic, appropriately enough, and it’s run by an ex-Brit named J.W. Okay, I’ll admit, I’ve been there a couple of times and while it’s no where near as famous Paddy’s (as depicted in the movie “Blood Diamonds”) the Atlantic is still a hot spot especially among the ex-pat community, UN workers, NGOs, the Lebanese and those of us with lighter skins. The bar sits on the sand and overlooks the beach. And, you wouldn’t believe the sunsets… incredible. Again, the only locals you’ll find there are the staff and the sex-trade workers.
The other hot spot, besides Paddy’s, is a place called the “Office” that features another gorgeous view of the ocean. It’s a new place, lots of chrome and glass, but costs Le15,000 ($3.00) to get in. I’ve been told “it’s the place to see and be seen” which is probably why I haven’t bothered to cough up the entrance fee. (I had a tour of the place one afternoon when I got lost in that area) And, if you’re truly a Sierra Leoneon a-list type, you can visit the “whiskey bar” (Le150,000 entrance) that apparently offers a selection of over 100 imported whiskeys.
Interestingly, the majority of local businesses are owned by Indians, Chinese or Lebanese men. There’s the expected racism between each ethnic group and Sierra Leoneons… not to mention the inherent Sierra Leoneon tribal divide between the Fullers, the Mende, the Mandingo and the Temene. These divides create economic disparity as well. And, it’s not uncommon to see Indian families driving to and from shops in fancy-ish cars. And, it’s quite common to see Lebanese families peering from their balconies down onto the busy streets in the west of Freetown. I’ve heard tell that the Indians and Lebanese live in a world unto themselves… separate and distinct and somehow above it all.
As with any city in the world… there are those with money/power and those without. The disparity between these groups in Sierra Leone is huge. On the one hand you have the blind beggars (lead around by small children) in the streets… asking for money from the occasional Hummer or dark-window SUV. The thing is, there are very few Hummers around and a great number of amputees, disabled or elderly beggars.
I live somewhere in the middle… occasionally riding in a white SUV and sporadically asking to borrow Le5,000 from colleagues for a taxi back to my apartment. I can’t say I live on both sides of the coin but I occasionally catch glimpses of each side as it spins in the air.
Counting coins,
Stephen
But, there’s a flip side to the Sierra Leone coin and I’ve had a brief glimpse at that burgeoning underside. Actually, it’s the top-side of the coin… and it remains elusive and mostly hidden behind high, razor-wired, concrete walls and darkened SUV windows. There is a small but elite group… mostly foreign, among our populace. They are here… preserved and rarefied.
Country Lodge, a rather understated moniker for the country’s swankiest hotel, overlooks the city and out over the ocean from the heights of Hill Station. If you’ve got enough money or the right connections, you’ll be invited up the bumpy, winding road to the reserved heights of western amenities. No bucket baths in this place… gleaming tile, tablecloths, western food and an outdoor pool and hot tub are available for about $150 a night. The price alone prevents most locals from visiting… so only the well-heeled traveller and occasional UN or international aid group can afford to wine and dine there.
I managed to wrangle an invitation to a reception at Country Lodge hosted by UNICEF for the visiting African director… and enjoyed “nibbles” and a double gin-and-tonic on their bill. It was my first visit to the place and I realized, zipping up the hill and through the monstrous iron gates on the back of an okada (little motorcycle taxi), was probably a touch inappropriate… given the lines of white SUVs and untarnished luxury motorcars. I did get a few looks but have realized that the colour of my skin allows me a certain flexibility among the glitterati.
And speaking of glitter… Sierra Leone is home to some of the world’s largest diamond, gold, bauxite and mineral mines. In fact, the Kono district in the south east of the country is infamous for its foreign-owned diamond mining. (the movie “Blood Diamond” is based on the plentiful diamonds that helped fund dictators, rebellions and heinous acts of suffering) Apparently, throughout the 70s and pre-conflict, diamonds could be found on the streets and paths following a heavy rain. The interesting thing is that Sierra Leone has this incredible wealth – gold and diamonds – only a scratch beneath the dirt surface and yet people and villages are dirt poor. The money is there but it’s quickly siphoned away by a very few wealthy mining companies and individuals.
The country’s natural resources are plentiful – lumber (although there are now environmental factors contributing to the industry’s downfall), fruit and vegetables, spices, minerals, fertile grounds, sunny skies and warm temperatures yet there’s almost no industry or manufacturing here. For example, mangoes and coconut grow everywhere and 95% of the crops are wasted or rot on the trees. I regularly buy mangoes on the street where they’re sold for pennies but nothing is refined or finished… You’d think I’d be able to get a fresh, delicious mango fruit drink or shake somewhere… but no… I end up buying stale-dated Ceres tetra paks instead.
Speaking of manufacturing and industrialization… that reminds me of another one of the more glaring examples of this two-sided coin. Electicity – or the lack of power to the people, as I’ve written before. The President keeps saying, “oh, it’s coming next month, next week, tomorrow,” but it’s been almost 25 years in the making including several regime and government changes along the way. It seems there are certain areas of Freetown that have been designated “essential” including the president’s compound, the State House, a bank or two and several of the more infamous hotels. Country Lodge, for example, is on the same hill as the president’s home and thus enjoys almost 24-hour electricity. I should add that many of the houses I passed on my way up the hill were without power. Infrastructure, including power lines, are rare commodities.
Some areas in the western part of Freetown have more power than others. I know one area that enjoys about eight hours a day of NPA (National Power Authority) electricity… and coincidentally that neighbourhood is up Wilkinson Road and home to many UN staffers and aid groups. The east, on the other hand, has very little electricity and is home to the poorest areas in the country. It seems you have to live in the right area… or on the “right” side of the tracks to enjoy even the slightest flickers of electricity.
There’s a bar at the western most end of Lumley Beach called the Atlantic, appropriately enough, and it’s run by an ex-Brit named J.W. Okay, I’ll admit, I’ve been there a couple of times and while it’s no where near as famous Paddy’s (as depicted in the movie “Blood Diamonds”) the Atlantic is still a hot spot especially among the ex-pat community, UN workers, NGOs, the Lebanese and those of us with lighter skins. The bar sits on the sand and overlooks the beach. And, you wouldn’t believe the sunsets… incredible. Again, the only locals you’ll find there are the staff and the sex-trade workers.
The other hot spot, besides Paddy’s, is a place called the “Office” that features another gorgeous view of the ocean. It’s a new place, lots of chrome and glass, but costs Le15,000 ($3.00) to get in. I’ve been told “it’s the place to see and be seen” which is probably why I haven’t bothered to cough up the entrance fee. (I had a tour of the place one afternoon when I got lost in that area) And, if you’re truly a Sierra Leoneon a-list type, you can visit the “whiskey bar” (Le150,000 entrance) that apparently offers a selection of over 100 imported whiskeys.
Interestingly, the majority of local businesses are owned by Indians, Chinese or Lebanese men. There’s the expected racism between each ethnic group and Sierra Leoneons… not to mention the inherent Sierra Leoneon tribal divide between the Fullers, the Mende, the Mandingo and the Temene. These divides create economic disparity as well. And, it’s not uncommon to see Indian families driving to and from shops in fancy-ish cars. And, it’s quite common to see Lebanese families peering from their balconies down onto the busy streets in the west of Freetown. I’ve heard tell that the Indians and Lebanese live in a world unto themselves… separate and distinct and somehow above it all.
As with any city in the world… there are those with money/power and those without. The disparity between these groups in Sierra Leone is huge. On the one hand you have the blind beggars (lead around by small children) in the streets… asking for money from the occasional Hummer or dark-window SUV. The thing is, there are very few Hummers around and a great number of amputees, disabled or elderly beggars.
I live somewhere in the middle… occasionally riding in a white SUV and sporadically asking to borrow Le5,000 from colleagues for a taxi back to my apartment. I can’t say I live on both sides of the coin but I occasionally catch glimpses of each side as it spins in the air.
Counting coins,
Stephen
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Sharing the pie...
One of the most disconcerting things about Freetown and Sierra Leone is the status of “the media” or, to be more specific, the unprofessional attitude of journalists, editors and media owners. Don’t get me wrong… there are some very ethical, responsible and diligent reporters around. But, they seem to be in the minority. As a result, the public perception of reporters and the newspapers and radio stations they work for is very low. People are either threatened by or disgusted by reporters… many of whom are young, only functionally literate, unpaid or severely underpaid, untrained, unskilled and usually hungry.
Let me back up a little bit. The post-conflict, fragile state of this country has fostered a ton of international aid, a proliferation of NGOs (legitimate and not), a tentative democratic government and an uncertain, sometimes frustrated attitude among its citizenry. In fact, I’ve inquired from several people about the current state of the country compared to conditions before the conflict throughout the 90s. To a one, they’ve all said, “things are the same if not worse.” Unemployment is a huge problem, poverty, hunger, strife, unhealthy living conditions are rampant, healthcare is almost non-existent, corruption at all levels is obvious and ever-present… marginalization is at its peak… and anger, frustration and fear are a scratch beneath the surface. This tenuous state contributes to all kinds of scams, corruption, deceits and downright plagues of mistrust, misapprehension and abuse.
Reporters and editors… indeed the entire media industry is not immune from these deceits, scams and abuse. And, I’m constantly amazed at how low reporters and editors will stoop to pocket a few Leones – for food, medicine and the basic necessities of life. Everyone here is out to make some extra money… however they can. How can I blame them? How can one judge when they “have to” in order to live… And, wouldn’t I try the same things if I were in their shoes or shacks?
I’ve compiled a list, ever-growing it seems, of unethical and unprofessional things reporters and editors do to make a living… unfortunately contributing to the fear and loathing of public perception. I’m amazed at the brilliance of their scams… For example, let’s start with reporters. It’s not uncommon or unheard of for a reporter to approach a businessperson, show their media ID card, and demand money NOT to write a negative story about the business or personal life of the business-owner. Yes, it’s outright blackmail… and it’ll cost you Le50,000 (about $30 CDN) to escape a tarnished reputation and potential loss of income. And, that’s a mild one.
I had an editor tell me about an instance where a reporter sniffed out an Indian business-owner who was allegedly having affairs with young boys working in his shop. Of course, there was no proof, no verification, no credibility to the story but four journalists approached the Indian man and accused him of “being a homosexual and paedophile”. The accused paid off the four reporters. Within a week, however, the story appeared in three other newspapers… The unsubstantiated story was “sold” by the four original reporters to other reporters, who “broke” the story, which was untrue from the beginning.
The opposite happens as well. A reporter will write something positive, an advertorial in essence, about a business or a politician, and they’ll take the published article back to the subject and demand a “token” for his services.
Of course, reporters or editors are paid by politicians, sometimes, to ignore stories… “Don’t report this corruption, breach of trust or whatever, and I’ll pay you Le100,000.” Or, more often than not, reporters, editors or publishers are paid a monthly stipend to support a politician or political party. Independent media is a long-forgotten ideal… shoved aside by the necessity to feed one’s family.
Or, here’s another not-so-ingenious scam… a reporter will read a story in a competitor’s paper, copy the article, put his name on the piece and submit it to his own editor the following day… Yes, plagiarism is rampant whether it’s stealing something off another reporter or off the radio or via the internet. In fact, it’s not uncommon to read stories straight from the BBC website or Yahoo news… and it’s so blatantly obvious – full sentences, proper grammar, story structure, etc. – things that don’t usually happen in local reports.
NGOs unfortunately contribute to many unethical practices in the media… In order to get a story or press release into the papers or on the radio, an NGO or aid organization will call a press conference… where they offer the reporters “transport” money, a free meal and a one-sided, biased press release praising their own work. Often the press release is published verbatim and never verified, properly sourced or credited. Among the industry, this is referred to as “coasting”.
Organizations will often hand-deliver press conference invitations to media offices (there’s no postal system here and very few folks have e-mail or regularly check their e-mail accounts). I recently discovered that a receptionist (sort of) was holding back these invitations and “selling” them to the reporters… If the receptionist or front line security person suspected an invitation would pay significant “transport” money, they’d offer them to the reporters for a fee. Again… everyone wants his or her piece of the pie – to the point where the pie cannot sustain anyone.
I recently hosted a community forum on “the future of media in Sierra Leone”. In attendance were community members, reporters, editors, friends of the media and some government types. When I began my opening and introductory lecture, I was confronted by a bobbing, throbbing video camera… that captured almost the entire workshop, including the three other presenters and footage of the audience. Ostensibly, the video was for a local television station and was to air as “news” later that night. (Workshops are considered “news” here… despite the fact that the content of most workshops, mine included, is not “news”) And, sure enough, a segment of the workshop did appear on the TV news. (There are only two TV channels in Freetown, one is government owned and operated and the other is a private organization owned by a Sierra Leonean in the U.S.)
But, what was interesting… and ingenious… was what else the reporter did with all his footage from the workshop. He approached my organization and sold the country director a CD copy of the workshop. Any NGO, including JHR, likes to have records of our activities so the market is ripe for video or print “proof” of activity. Then, he sold copies to each of the presenters… smart, talented people from radio, the university and from a branch of the government. And, got a free lunch at the workshop, he got paid from his TV station and he probably made close to Le400,000 from “my” one-day workshop. I should’ve asked for my “cut”…
Here’s another scam from the TV world… When a reporter is asked to attend a function, they’ll often say, “I have to buy batteries and tape first,” which is a not-so-obvious way of saying, “pay me first and I’ll show up to record and report your event, function or activity.”
Interestingly, when an editor suspects a reporter of getting paid to write or produce a story, they usually want their “cut”. For example, a reporter will write up the proceedings of a press conference… and receive Le50,000 from the NGO or organization. Some editors will demand their Le10,000 – Le20,000 cut of the proceeds in order to publish the story. Or, if an editor smells a blackmailed piece… he’ll demand his piece of the pie to publish the article. It’s a vicious cycle… or downward spiral.
Because most reporters, radio and newspaper, don’t type or don’t have access to a computer, an organization will “employ” a typist to translate a story from handwriting to print-ready copy. This typist, who doesn’t earn much, will charge the reporters to type out their stories. The reporters are handcuffed by their inability to type or access a computer. I should add that in most cases these typewritten versions of articles are full of spelling mistakes, typos, little or no punctuation, etc. And, no one does much proofreading…
Of course, the age-old battle between advertising sales and editorial purity continues… similar to publishing constraints in western media, I might add. If there’s no advertising, a newspaper won’t publish. If an advertiser wants a feature article, they get it – if they pay. If an advertiser wants a full-page ad on page three (an especially prized media placement) they get it – if they pay. If an NGO wants to issue a press release or public service announcement (PSA) on the radio – they pay. Media owners, editors and reporters will bend over backwards to get ads… selling the soul of reputable media, just like we do in the west. The bottom line, money and profits, are still the driving force of media industries around the world. Desperation leads to all kinds of unethical contributions to the media, especially in Sierra Leone.
In most newspapers, reporters are considered “freelancers” meaning they get paid for the story if or when it runs in the paper. I’ve heard tell of editors receiving a reporter’s copy and re-writing the piece, putting their own byline at the top of the page… They then refuse to pay the reporter. Instead, the editor receives the freelance payment and the reporter won’t eat that night.
I’m not exactly preaching from an elevated podium when I talk about unethical reporting or pure journalism. I’ve accepted gifts or graft from advertisers (nothing big like a car or house…) But, I once received a “magic bullet” blender from an advertiser… and I’ve been on press junkets hosted by public relations firms. In fact, I still use a jacket I got from Canon cameras while shooting at the Olympics several years ago. And, I’m usually happy to drink the coffee and eat a donut at Canadian press conferences. So, I’m not pure… and don’t proclaim to be entirely above accepting some media perks along the way. And, there’s no telling what I’d do if it came down to feeding my family or providing medication to loved ones. But, what I’ve seen in Sierra Leone would make most western editors, publishers and media owners cringe in disbelief.
But, let’s look at the reality of the media industry here… the pie is small… many people need to eat from that pie… and it’s perhaps wise to divide it up so more people can eat.
Searching for solutions,
Stephen
Let me back up a little bit. The post-conflict, fragile state of this country has fostered a ton of international aid, a proliferation of NGOs (legitimate and not), a tentative democratic government and an uncertain, sometimes frustrated attitude among its citizenry. In fact, I’ve inquired from several people about the current state of the country compared to conditions before the conflict throughout the 90s. To a one, they’ve all said, “things are the same if not worse.” Unemployment is a huge problem, poverty, hunger, strife, unhealthy living conditions are rampant, healthcare is almost non-existent, corruption at all levels is obvious and ever-present… marginalization is at its peak… and anger, frustration and fear are a scratch beneath the surface. This tenuous state contributes to all kinds of scams, corruption, deceits and downright plagues of mistrust, misapprehension and abuse.
Reporters and editors… indeed the entire media industry is not immune from these deceits, scams and abuse. And, I’m constantly amazed at how low reporters and editors will stoop to pocket a few Leones – for food, medicine and the basic necessities of life. Everyone here is out to make some extra money… however they can. How can I blame them? How can one judge when they “have to” in order to live… And, wouldn’t I try the same things if I were in their shoes or shacks?
I’ve compiled a list, ever-growing it seems, of unethical and unprofessional things reporters and editors do to make a living… unfortunately contributing to the fear and loathing of public perception. I’m amazed at the brilliance of their scams… For example, let’s start with reporters. It’s not uncommon or unheard of for a reporter to approach a businessperson, show their media ID card, and demand money NOT to write a negative story about the business or personal life of the business-owner. Yes, it’s outright blackmail… and it’ll cost you Le50,000 (about $30 CDN) to escape a tarnished reputation and potential loss of income. And, that’s a mild one.
I had an editor tell me about an instance where a reporter sniffed out an Indian business-owner who was allegedly having affairs with young boys working in his shop. Of course, there was no proof, no verification, no credibility to the story but four journalists approached the Indian man and accused him of “being a homosexual and paedophile”. The accused paid off the four reporters. Within a week, however, the story appeared in three other newspapers… The unsubstantiated story was “sold” by the four original reporters to other reporters, who “broke” the story, which was untrue from the beginning.
The opposite happens as well. A reporter will write something positive, an advertorial in essence, about a business or a politician, and they’ll take the published article back to the subject and demand a “token” for his services.
Of course, reporters or editors are paid by politicians, sometimes, to ignore stories… “Don’t report this corruption, breach of trust or whatever, and I’ll pay you Le100,000.” Or, more often than not, reporters, editors or publishers are paid a monthly stipend to support a politician or political party. Independent media is a long-forgotten ideal… shoved aside by the necessity to feed one’s family.
Or, here’s another not-so-ingenious scam… a reporter will read a story in a competitor’s paper, copy the article, put his name on the piece and submit it to his own editor the following day… Yes, plagiarism is rampant whether it’s stealing something off another reporter or off the radio or via the internet. In fact, it’s not uncommon to read stories straight from the BBC website or Yahoo news… and it’s so blatantly obvious – full sentences, proper grammar, story structure, etc. – things that don’t usually happen in local reports.
NGOs unfortunately contribute to many unethical practices in the media… In order to get a story or press release into the papers or on the radio, an NGO or aid organization will call a press conference… where they offer the reporters “transport” money, a free meal and a one-sided, biased press release praising their own work. Often the press release is published verbatim and never verified, properly sourced or credited. Among the industry, this is referred to as “coasting”.
Organizations will often hand-deliver press conference invitations to media offices (there’s no postal system here and very few folks have e-mail or regularly check their e-mail accounts). I recently discovered that a receptionist (sort of) was holding back these invitations and “selling” them to the reporters… If the receptionist or front line security person suspected an invitation would pay significant “transport” money, they’d offer them to the reporters for a fee. Again… everyone wants his or her piece of the pie – to the point where the pie cannot sustain anyone.
I recently hosted a community forum on “the future of media in Sierra Leone”. In attendance were community members, reporters, editors, friends of the media and some government types. When I began my opening and introductory lecture, I was confronted by a bobbing, throbbing video camera… that captured almost the entire workshop, including the three other presenters and footage of the audience. Ostensibly, the video was for a local television station and was to air as “news” later that night. (Workshops are considered “news” here… despite the fact that the content of most workshops, mine included, is not “news”) And, sure enough, a segment of the workshop did appear on the TV news. (There are only two TV channels in Freetown, one is government owned and operated and the other is a private organization owned by a Sierra Leonean in the U.S.)
But, what was interesting… and ingenious… was what else the reporter did with all his footage from the workshop. He approached my organization and sold the country director a CD copy of the workshop. Any NGO, including JHR, likes to have records of our activities so the market is ripe for video or print “proof” of activity. Then, he sold copies to each of the presenters… smart, talented people from radio, the university and from a branch of the government. And, got a free lunch at the workshop, he got paid from his TV station and he probably made close to Le400,000 from “my” one-day workshop. I should’ve asked for my “cut”…
Here’s another scam from the TV world… When a reporter is asked to attend a function, they’ll often say, “I have to buy batteries and tape first,” which is a not-so-obvious way of saying, “pay me first and I’ll show up to record and report your event, function or activity.”
Interestingly, when an editor suspects a reporter of getting paid to write or produce a story, they usually want their “cut”. For example, a reporter will write up the proceedings of a press conference… and receive Le50,000 from the NGO or organization. Some editors will demand their Le10,000 – Le20,000 cut of the proceeds in order to publish the story. Or, if an editor smells a blackmailed piece… he’ll demand his piece of the pie to publish the article. It’s a vicious cycle… or downward spiral.
Because most reporters, radio and newspaper, don’t type or don’t have access to a computer, an organization will “employ” a typist to translate a story from handwriting to print-ready copy. This typist, who doesn’t earn much, will charge the reporters to type out their stories. The reporters are handcuffed by their inability to type or access a computer. I should add that in most cases these typewritten versions of articles are full of spelling mistakes, typos, little or no punctuation, etc. And, no one does much proofreading…
Of course, the age-old battle between advertising sales and editorial purity continues… similar to publishing constraints in western media, I might add. If there’s no advertising, a newspaper won’t publish. If an advertiser wants a feature article, they get it – if they pay. If an advertiser wants a full-page ad on page three (an especially prized media placement) they get it – if they pay. If an NGO wants to issue a press release or public service announcement (PSA) on the radio – they pay. Media owners, editors and reporters will bend over backwards to get ads… selling the soul of reputable media, just like we do in the west. The bottom line, money and profits, are still the driving force of media industries around the world. Desperation leads to all kinds of unethical contributions to the media, especially in Sierra Leone.
In most newspapers, reporters are considered “freelancers” meaning they get paid for the story if or when it runs in the paper. I’ve heard tell of editors receiving a reporter’s copy and re-writing the piece, putting their own byline at the top of the page… They then refuse to pay the reporter. Instead, the editor receives the freelance payment and the reporter won’t eat that night.
I’m not exactly preaching from an elevated podium when I talk about unethical reporting or pure journalism. I’ve accepted gifts or graft from advertisers (nothing big like a car or house…) But, I once received a “magic bullet” blender from an advertiser… and I’ve been on press junkets hosted by public relations firms. In fact, I still use a jacket I got from Canon cameras while shooting at the Olympics several years ago. And, I’m usually happy to drink the coffee and eat a donut at Canadian press conferences. So, I’m not pure… and don’t proclaim to be entirely above accepting some media perks along the way. And, there’s no telling what I’d do if it came down to feeding my family or providing medication to loved ones. But, what I’ve seen in Sierra Leone would make most western editors, publishers and media owners cringe in disbelief.
But, let’s look at the reality of the media industry here… the pie is small… many people need to eat from that pie… and it’s perhaps wise to divide it up so more people can eat.
Searching for solutions,
Stephen
Saturday, July 4, 2009
The rainy season…
Saturday morning… and I can’t help comparing and contrasting recent activities, weather, locations and company with how and where I used to spend my Saturdays. As you can imagine, it’s very different here in Freetown. There are times when I miss my Canadian homeland… Saturdays are one of those times. What I wouldn’t give for a Saturday morning Globe and Mail newspaper or the Toronto Star’s crossword puzzle and a freshly brewed cup of coffee. And, a quiet walk through the streets or along a park path… those are some of the things I miss, especially today.
I was out very late last night – Friday – following an evening, candlelit dinner (infrequent power here, remember) with a young journalist and his family and a party closer to the beach at the other end of Freetown. The dinner, a delicious mix of ground cassava leaves, palm oil, spicy peppers, chicken (a very expensive commodity) and fish, was quite wonderful. Of course, all that was served over the ever-present heap of rice. Most Sierra Leoneons will tell you they haven’t eaten till they’ve had their plate of rice for the day. After dinner, I climbed down the “mountain” to grab a taxi to attend a party at another friend’s house. The party, a casual collection of UN Radio folks, was very interesting and festivities didn’t wrap up till well into the morning hours. Dinners and parties aren’t the norm here but it’s been a long, gruelling week and tippling with journalists, locals and some of the intelligentsia of Freetown was very nice.
It was great to get calls from Isaac and my parents this week… after learning the way around the “ban” on calls to Sierra Leone is to use an international calling card. After two months here, these connections (and e-mails from friends) have become salves to some of the bumps and scrapes inherent with living in Africa. And, noting Canada Day here in Freetown was a slightly lonely entry in my daily diary. The honourary Canadian consul, Frances Fortune, is out of the country and there are scant few other Canadians around… so the day was spent scrambling from one meeting to another, organizing workshops, tracking down NGOs, waiting for government ministers, etc. The American Embassy and the numerous folks involved in their work here held countless events for their July 4th celebrations. I’ve been representing JHR, and Canada I guess, by attending music nights, cocktail parties, silly soirées and other arrogant “red-white-and-blue” bashes.
Other events of the week included the incessant memorials to Michael Jackson contrasted against the passing of two local journalists – one in a car accident up country and the other from typhoid – a stark reminder of the fragility of existence. Just another week, as they say…
It’s “raining buckets” here this morning after a night of storms, howling wind, thunder and lightening. The water cascaded in its impression of Niagara Falls off the roof of the house crashing onto the patio outside my window. And the roar of the wind through the coconut trees was a wall of loud static drowning the groan of the generator from next door. In the first light of morning, awoken again by the crowing rooster, I sit on the verandah watching the rain stream from the thick grey skies.
The weather has finally changed… and the rainy season is upon us. I asked my colleague, Jordan, why the news shows here don’t have weather reports. His response was very funny… “Why, when all they’d say is ‘it’s hot today and it might rain’”. True enough. That, and the only weather station in Sierra Leone was destroyed during the war and hasn’t been replaced. The crumbling shell of a satellite weather tower remains on the horizon but it records nothing and predicts nothing. But I suppose, just by looking up at it, one can predict… it’s either raining or cloudless and hot. Sky gazing… probably just as effective as any weather station…
Interestingly, there are clouds in the sky these days and they roll across the shoreline and up over the hills behind Freetown. Sometimes they’re ominous and at other times they seem to careen gently through the sky. I can’t tell if it’s about to rain or clear. Strange skies… and I’ve been told to always carry an umbrella because “we Sierra Leoneons never know when it’ll rain. It could come at any time.” And, I’ve been caught several times… dashing for the cover of a tin shack or concrete overhang. It’s not a cold rain and funnily enough it only adds to the humidity and heat. Within minutes of the rain cessation, it’s humid as heck… and the raindrops running down my back are quickly exchanged with beads of sweat.
Tomorrow is “beach day” as Sundays have become affectionately known. It’s my reprieve and solace from some of the hassles, noise, frustration and crowds of Freetown. Beach Two is our chosen destination and I’m looking forward to swimming, napping, reading, walking and quiet time. And, weather won’t play a factor… rain or shine – any day at the beach is a day well spent.
Pictures will follow, I promise.
Stephen
I was out very late last night – Friday – following an evening, candlelit dinner (infrequent power here, remember) with a young journalist and his family and a party closer to the beach at the other end of Freetown. The dinner, a delicious mix of ground cassava leaves, palm oil, spicy peppers, chicken (a very expensive commodity) and fish, was quite wonderful. Of course, all that was served over the ever-present heap of rice. Most Sierra Leoneons will tell you they haven’t eaten till they’ve had their plate of rice for the day. After dinner, I climbed down the “mountain” to grab a taxi to attend a party at another friend’s house. The party, a casual collection of UN Radio folks, was very interesting and festivities didn’t wrap up till well into the morning hours. Dinners and parties aren’t the norm here but it’s been a long, gruelling week and tippling with journalists, locals and some of the intelligentsia of Freetown was very nice.
It was great to get calls from Isaac and my parents this week… after learning the way around the “ban” on calls to Sierra Leone is to use an international calling card. After two months here, these connections (and e-mails from friends) have become salves to some of the bumps and scrapes inherent with living in Africa. And, noting Canada Day here in Freetown was a slightly lonely entry in my daily diary. The honourary Canadian consul, Frances Fortune, is out of the country and there are scant few other Canadians around… so the day was spent scrambling from one meeting to another, organizing workshops, tracking down NGOs, waiting for government ministers, etc. The American Embassy and the numerous folks involved in their work here held countless events for their July 4th celebrations. I’ve been representing JHR, and Canada I guess, by attending music nights, cocktail parties, silly soirées and other arrogant “red-white-and-blue” bashes.
Other events of the week included the incessant memorials to Michael Jackson contrasted against the passing of two local journalists – one in a car accident up country and the other from typhoid – a stark reminder of the fragility of existence. Just another week, as they say…
It’s “raining buckets” here this morning after a night of storms, howling wind, thunder and lightening. The water cascaded in its impression of Niagara Falls off the roof of the house crashing onto the patio outside my window. And the roar of the wind through the coconut trees was a wall of loud static drowning the groan of the generator from next door. In the first light of morning, awoken again by the crowing rooster, I sit on the verandah watching the rain stream from the thick grey skies.
The weather has finally changed… and the rainy season is upon us. I asked my colleague, Jordan, why the news shows here don’t have weather reports. His response was very funny… “Why, when all they’d say is ‘it’s hot today and it might rain’”. True enough. That, and the only weather station in Sierra Leone was destroyed during the war and hasn’t been replaced. The crumbling shell of a satellite weather tower remains on the horizon but it records nothing and predicts nothing. But I suppose, just by looking up at it, one can predict… it’s either raining or cloudless and hot. Sky gazing… probably just as effective as any weather station…
Interestingly, there are clouds in the sky these days and they roll across the shoreline and up over the hills behind Freetown. Sometimes they’re ominous and at other times they seem to careen gently through the sky. I can’t tell if it’s about to rain or clear. Strange skies… and I’ve been told to always carry an umbrella because “we Sierra Leoneons never know when it’ll rain. It could come at any time.” And, I’ve been caught several times… dashing for the cover of a tin shack or concrete overhang. It’s not a cold rain and funnily enough it only adds to the humidity and heat. Within minutes of the rain cessation, it’s humid as heck… and the raindrops running down my back are quickly exchanged with beads of sweat.
Tomorrow is “beach day” as Sundays have become affectionately known. It’s my reprieve and solace from some of the hassles, noise, frustration and crowds of Freetown. Beach Two is our chosen destination and I’m looking forward to swimming, napping, reading, walking and quiet time. And, weather won’t play a factor… rain or shine – any day at the beach is a day well spent.
Pictures will follow, I promise.
Stephen
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