Bearing hatred by the Antelope: The Challenge of Modern Journalism

If I tell you that this is the piece I am writing to primarily pay tribute to the late Chinua Achebe, it should strike you that the influence that this father of the African novel has had to the African masses and beyond is heart deep. As a novice in the field of literary criticism, or so as I should be said to aspire, I will not pretend to be any closer to other men of letters, least of all the man exiting the stage now. What I only want to do in this piece is to just read a section, one or two paragraphs, or a page at most, of one of his books – Anthills of the Savannah.

As I write this I pay partial attention to a case going on in our supreme court – that of challenging the presidential results in our 2013 general election. I muse for a while and realize we would have had no reason to go that direction had we developed our institutions to that level where we can fully trust them. I soon realize that as the man currently exiting the stage would have seen it, mistrust is just one of the many anthills on this side of the savannah, one that has been threatening to bring down our democracy. But well, just leave it there and let’s move on. I wish to reflect on something else altogether.

I wish to reflect on the challenge of journalism in the modern world, or to be more precise, in modern Africa modern Kenya. That challenge, that responsibility, that task, is what I chose to see as the burden of bearing hatred by the antelope.

Let me put you in the right context or in other words let me bring you up to speed by taking you in the midst of things.

Where is this antelope coming from?

 I pick the antelope from Ngugi wa Thiongo’s Devil on the Cross. In the second passage of his first chapter, down there, he reflects through a Gĩcaandĩ Player who asks “Who am I – the mouth that ate itself? Is it not said that an antelope hates less the one who sees it than the one who shouts to alert others to its presence?”

Now you don’t want to know that this Gĩcaandĩ Player has a prophecy which he ought to share with his people but he is afraid. He actually has to be convinced, inspired if you like, by voices from earth and another greater one from the skies above to tell the story of one “Jacinta Warĩ ĩ nga before you pass judgement on our children,” with the voice from above asking, “who has told you that the prophecy is yours alone, to keep to yourself?”

Well, perhaps by now you already see where I am headed to – the comparison between the modern journalist and the Gĩcaandĩ Player. By now, you can already see I seek to argue that the modern journalist has this prophetic task rolled up in the responsibility of service to the people. Indeed we have often and rightly referred to him as the public watchdog. Whether he has been a good dog is a debate for another day. What we know for sure however is this; he has the obligation to bark every time his people are threatened. And this is where he often finds himself in a situation where he is hated in the same measure an antelope would hate he who shouts to tell others of its presence.

Now, Chinua Achebe, perhaps because he was a journalist himself at some point, exemplifies the role of the writer, who I choose to see as the modern journalist in the book at hand, Anthills of the Savannah. This he does through a discussion right in the midst of the text as we appreciate the different roles that all of us have in this struggle that is the liberation of the post colonial nation. My hypothesis is this, that by lifting the ‘story’ to a pedestal of its own, he lifts with it its writer, and in our modern case the role of the journalist.

He says:

The sounding of the battle-drum is important; the fierce waging of the war itself is important; and the telling of the story afterwards – each is important in its own way. I tell you there is not one of them we could do without. But if you ask me which of them takes the eagle-feather I will say boldly: THE STORY (p. 124-5, emphasis is mine).

He goes ahead to point to the royal features of the story.

One: The story helps us in recalling and “recalling is greatest.” Now to recall is to call to memory your past in a bid to learn from it. And you’ve heard that he who knows not his past, knows not his present and hence his future. By reflecting on our past we are able to discern our pitfalls. So the story is our escort.

Two: The story is everlasting. It outlives its writer as it is carried from one generation to another and the strength of its grasp on everyone of us brings down any person tumbling down. This must be on the effect it leaves on our conscience.

Three: The story is our identity. The story is our voice and through it we speak to the world about our fears and aspirations. But sometimes, that story is our best kept secret and like Ngugi wa Thiong’o says in Devil on the Cross, “the secrets of the homestead are not for the ears of strangers” (p.7).

So how does this connect to modern journalism?

The role of the modern journalist is assisting his society to reflect on its plans. This has been characterized by asking hard questions and a call to counter the status quo.

The modern journalist has a task to set an agenda that will be everlasting. An agenda that will easily cut across generations as it answers to that which makes them who they are.

The modern journalist is faced with the task of painting an image to the rest of the world of what kind of society his people are, or ought to be. And we surely loathe at times those people who want to voice the negative script of that which we are not.

To achieve this the modern journalist has been faced with the challenge of asking hard questions against the compact majority lest he becomes an enemy of the people, as Henrik Ibsen alludes in his play Enemy of the People. As Chinua Achebe would see it, in Anthills of the Savannah, that task is akin to not giving prescriptions but to giving headaches (p. 161).

Now stirring the compact majority is not easy and this is where the challenge of the hatred by the antelope manifests itself proper. A journalist is always hated by the regimes he counters and with that hatred comes dangers.

But one will say with advancement in technology the process of sharing the story has been made much much easier and faster. My thesis is this, while this may be true, the dangers of telling the story have been increasing with every discovery of a new technology in this industry. And this is partly because as the technology expands, the audiences grow.

So what is the result – the bigger the audience the bigger the responsibility and the bigger the heard of the antelopes hating the journalist for his shouts. This, though  covertly, means more dangers which can sometimes just be in the form of the simple stares and ish ish feeling you arouse among people whilst in their midst.