There’s a tradition in the Department of Defence that for some uncanny reason all auditing is done in-house. External auditors, purportedly, create the risk of stumbling upon sanctified state secrets (as if the accounting of properly disbursed and spent monies warrants any secrecy).
Similarly, the Fourth Estate has long held a fraternal air of secrecy about how things are run among its ranks. It’s only the other day that the Media Council of Kenya (MCK) began the healthy practice of displaying a roll of registered practitioners that is open for public scrutiny.
Nasibo Kabale (top) on the streets of Nairobi and (bottom) as a health reporter for NTV. Photos | X
The Kenya Union of Journalists (KUJ) too, has lately held aggressive recruitment drives to distinguish the quacks from the genuine media practitioners and preached attendant benefits of unionisation.
All these, however, did not stop Nasibo Kabale from slipping unnoticed outside the radar of the usually vigilant Fourth Estate.
What happened to a robust, energetic and highly professional personality that one day she was there; live on the glare of the cameras and the next moment gone, just like that?
The case is unique and more complex than the media cares to admit. Nasibo fell in love with a workmate – something managers always discourage with a valid reason.
She got pregnant out of the liaison and then there was depression and the COVID-19 societal imbalance and one thing rolling on top of another. Many journalists were laid-off as the main players in the industry scaled-down while strugglers shut down altogether. Everybody was affected.
Everyone was caught flatfooted. Many reputable journalists turned to blogging simply to stave off hunger and the urge to slide into alcoholism and the government was none the wiser. Worst of all nobody had ever thought of formulating a remuneration policy in the event of such a crisis.
The world changed irreversibly. In the stake of credibility social media gained on mainstream media and to this day the later has never fully recovered.
Only a few practitioners with highly visible bylines returned to claim their place at the high table of journalism. Print media practically folded up and electronic media outlets filled up that important niche.
Sadly, nobody noticed that Nasibo Kabale was missing. Shouldn’t the baby-daddy have told the world of her plight?
The gentleman did that, he even took responsibility for the beautiful girl who was a result of the unfortunate liaison – today she attends the prestigious Makini Group of Schools.
Did Nasibo Kabale despair too soon? The whole world was gasping from the spasms of the COVID-19, meaning everyone had their hands full. But news of her being washed out by a Nigerian lover does not endear her to the morality scouts.
Let’s just say Nasibo Kabale is a good case example. Issues of foresight and hindsight will not help now. Suffice it to say the lady has been plucked off the doldrums of a miserable street existence and let’s hope she gets well soon.
But the media industry must up their game. Media practitioners are classified with firefighters and police officers due to their role as first responders. Let’s be our brothers keeper whether small or big in the media industry. Let’s work out policies such as pension schemes focused on remuneration in the event of mental breakdown, old age or possibly another coronavirus outbreak.
It is sad that Nasibo is not alone. Half of the people who strutted proudly across Tom Mboya Street coming from the Old Nation House to a coffeehouse aptly named Scribe’s Corner, are derelicts now.
Some of them are not even proud to wear the same names they had in the other life.
Let me remind you of a sad true story. One day long before the promulgation of the 2010 Constitution president Daniel arap Moi invited select journalists for an interview at State House, Nairobi.
I mention the 2010 constitution intentionally since in those days there was nothing like a question-and-answer session where you can roast a whole president on live TV. The editors prepared a questionnaire and someone provided a written statement answering only what the protocol officer thought was worth answering.
The old man was highly presidential, always brooding and looking far away into the distance all along giving the impression of sagacity.
We had our drinks and the editors guild bridled with unasked questions. Then finally as we were about to leave the old man asks out loud in heavily accented Swahili – where’s Whispers?
“Whispers” was a humour column written by Wahome Mutahi, a BEd graduate from Kenyatta University who had not studied journalism. Of all the serious, highly qualified people in our entourage the president was only interested in Whispers!
Lesson: Whatever your place in the industry today, do what you do so well that tomorrow people are bound to notice, at once, when you are not around.
DalanewsKE
Editorial Monday 16, September 2024
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