I will miss Uganda and The New Vision
Apr 15, 2010
Dear readers, This is my last day at The New Vision. My contract expires today and I have opted not to renew it.
Dear readers, This is my last day at The New Vision. My contract expires today and I have opted not to renew it.
I took this difficult decision because I was given a new challenge to start up a newspaper in Southern Sudan with funding from the Belgian government.
Sudan is the country where I began my Africa journey 23 years ago. I was 25 and an aid worker in Darfur.
Tens of thousands of people fled the war and famine in Southern Sudan, and turned up in our area of operations.
They were living skeletons. Our attempts to feed them in a camp called Safaha were hampered by huge logistical problems and the confiscation of our food by local authorities in the north.
I ended up selecting malnourished children. Only a limited number could be admitted to our feeding centre considering our dwindling stocks. At the end of that year, the UN announced that 500,000 people had died in the belt around the Bahr el Arab where Safaha was.
“Safaha, I will never recover from it,†were the last words of my diary, which was published in a prestigious Belgian magazine and earned me a job as a journalist.
The little known tragedy of Safaha in 1988 prompted me to give up my relatively comfortable life in Belgium and become a journalist in Africa.
So accepting this opportunity to help rebuild a society devastated by nearly half a century of war is like going back to where it all began; the very reason for my being here.
But leaving The New Vision and Uganda is harder than I thought. For three years, I felt the pulse of this society.
On a daily basis, I was informed about events taking place in every part of the country by our network of journalists and correspondents.
Like a doctor, I was monitoring the condition of the nation almost hour by hour, recording any upsurges or turbulences as meticulously as possible.
At times, I feared the fever was going too high, or the cancer had grown too deep, threatening to eat away the foundation of the nation.
Only to wake up the next morning and find that resilience and sanity had prevailed and the temperature was back to normal.
I particularly recall the September riots in Buganda. It was 11:00pm on the second day of the riots and I was still in the office.
Several of our journalists did not know how they were going to reach home. Others had been beaten up and were in hospital.
Readers called, stuck at road blocks, frightened to death. We received threats that The New Vision offices were going to be attacked. Later, it was the Masaka office that was under threat and needed Police reinforcement.
In the midst of this crisis, we still had to produce a newspaper and bring the news as accurately as possible to our readers.
There were reports that two Bakiga had been burned to death. I remember calling our journalists in the middle of the night, asking the same questions over and over again.
“Who saw the charred bodies? How did we know they were Bakiga? How did we know they were targeted for being Bakiga?â€
Journalism in Uganda has been under a lot of criticism recently. A new Bill wants to ban stories that could threaten national security, stability and unity. A newspaper license can also be revoked for publishing stories that amount to economic sabotage, or are injurious to Uganda’s neighbours or friendly countries.
Uganda developed a vibrant and largely free press under the NRM Government which has earned it praise from even established democracies.
We were able to critically tackle sensitive issues, such as oil and fighter jets, and bring out corruption stories like CHOGM, NSSF and NFA.
And apart from one or two incidences, I experienced no interference at all from The New Vision management, the board or the Government.
True, this press freedom has at times been abused. Some writers and radio journalists have used the power of the pen and the word to extort money, solicit for bribes or advance interests of groups who want to destabilise the country.
Having lived through the Rwandan genocide, I am one of the strongest advocates for a responsible press.
In ‘fragile’ democracies, the media, I believe, have a special duty to bring down the temperature and refrain from inciting violence, tribalism or sectarianism. Playing with such sentiments is like playing with fire.
Despite the prevailing press freedom, I found it a challenge to practise journalism in Uganda. Access to information is a daily struggle.
Contracts that take up a big chunk of the budget and impact on services for the poor are kept secret, as we have seen with the CHOGM contracts. Opinions from the Attorney General, the IGG or the Solicitor General can only be obtained through leakages.
Company files disappear from the Registrar’s office, and finding out which plots or buildings belong to whom, information that is readily available in other countries, can be a nightmare.
Many Government officials, civil servants and army officers shun us like the plague — by not being available or hanging up on us.
And on many occasions, journalists are treated with contempt at best and hostility at worst, yet some have higher qualifications than those they interview.
On top of that, media houses in Uganda also carry the burden of training their staff and distribute their papers, aspects that are taken care of by the government in other countries.
As I leave Uganda, I want to plead with my colleagues to always carry out their task with the public interest at heart, and not to succumb to any other pressures than accurate and balanced reporting — the truth and nothing but the truth.
To the authorities, I want to request to improve access to information, respect the role of the media and continue allowing free debate and flow of ideas.
As history has taught us, ‘closed communities’ have led to the most horrific crimes — be it religious cults, dictatorships, prisons or boarding schools. Even the suicide bombers of this terrorism era have all proven to be ‘closed communities’ in their own way — quiet, withdrawn human beings, stuck in their own locked world.
It is my sincere wish that a way can be found to regulate the media in Uganda without infringing on freedom of expression.
I want to thank my editors, sub-editors, reporters and photographers for their wonderful co-operation. They helped me feel the pulse of Uganda and analyse the daily upsurges and turbulences. I can only have deep respect for their commitment, courage and passion for journalism — finding the truth and nothing but the truth.
The long hours we spent together in the newsroom has created a lasting bond.
Finally, I want to thank our readers for their constructive feedback, comments, tips and opinions — for having honoured their part of the contract we signed three years ago.
You helped us correct our mistakes, give the other side of the story and keep The New Vision ship on course.
And you remained loyal, even when times were rough and the fever went very high.
I will miss Uganda and The New Vision everyday of my life.
I took this difficult decision because I was given a new challenge to start up a newspaper in Southern Sudan with funding from the Belgian government.
Sudan is the country where I began my Africa journey 23 years ago. I was 25 and an aid worker in Darfur.
Tens of thousands of people fled the war and famine in Southern Sudan, and turned up in our area of operations.
They were living skeletons. Our attempts to feed them in a camp called Safaha were hampered by huge logistical problems and the confiscation of our food by local authorities in the north.
I ended up selecting malnourished children. Only a limited number could be admitted to our feeding centre considering our dwindling stocks. At the end of that year, the UN announced that 500,000 people had died in the belt around the Bahr el Arab where Safaha was.
“Safaha, I will never recover from it,†were the last words of my diary, which was published in a prestigious Belgian magazine and earned me a job as a journalist.
The little known tragedy of Safaha in 1988 prompted me to give up my relatively comfortable life in Belgium and become a journalist in Africa.
So accepting this opportunity to help rebuild a society devastated by nearly half a century of war is like going back to where it all began; the very reason for my being here.
But leaving The New Vision and Uganda is harder than I thought. For three years, I felt the pulse of this society.
On a daily basis, I was informed about events taking place in every part of the country by our network of journalists and correspondents.
Like a doctor, I was monitoring the condition of the nation almost hour by hour, recording any upsurges or turbulences as meticulously as possible.
At times, I feared the fever was going too high, or the cancer had grown too deep, threatening to eat away the foundation of the nation.
Only to wake up the next morning and find that resilience and sanity had prevailed and the temperature was back to normal.
I particularly recall the September riots in Buganda. It was 11:00pm on the second day of the riots and I was still in the office.
Several of our journalists did not know how they were going to reach home. Others had been beaten up and were in hospital.
Readers called, stuck at road blocks, frightened to death. We received threats that The New Vision offices were going to be attacked. Later, it was the Masaka office that was under threat and needed Police reinforcement.
In the midst of this crisis, we still had to produce a newspaper and bring the news as accurately as possible to our readers.
There were reports that two Bakiga had been burned to death. I remember calling our journalists in the middle of the night, asking the same questions over and over again.
“Who saw the charred bodies? How did we know they were Bakiga? How did we know they were targeted for being Bakiga?â€
Journalism in Uganda has been under a lot of criticism recently. A new Bill wants to ban stories that could threaten national security, stability and unity. A newspaper license can also be revoked for publishing stories that amount to economic sabotage, or are injurious to Uganda’s neighbours or friendly countries.
Uganda developed a vibrant and largely free press under the NRM Government which has earned it praise from even established democracies.
We were able to critically tackle sensitive issues, such as oil and fighter jets, and bring out corruption stories like CHOGM, NSSF and NFA.
And apart from one or two incidences, I experienced no interference at all from The New Vision management, the board or the Government.
True, this press freedom has at times been abused. Some writers and radio journalists have used the power of the pen and the word to extort money, solicit for bribes or advance interests of groups who want to destabilise the country.
Having lived through the Rwandan genocide, I am one of the strongest advocates for a responsible press.
In ‘fragile’ democracies, the media, I believe, have a special duty to bring down the temperature and refrain from inciting violence, tribalism or sectarianism. Playing with such sentiments is like playing with fire.
Despite the prevailing press freedom, I found it a challenge to practise journalism in Uganda. Access to information is a daily struggle.
Contracts that take up a big chunk of the budget and impact on services for the poor are kept secret, as we have seen with the CHOGM contracts. Opinions from the Attorney General, the IGG or the Solicitor General can only be obtained through leakages.
Company files disappear from the Registrar’s office, and finding out which plots or buildings belong to whom, information that is readily available in other countries, can be a nightmare.
Many Government officials, civil servants and army officers shun us like the plague — by not being available or hanging up on us.
And on many occasions, journalists are treated with contempt at best and hostility at worst, yet some have higher qualifications than those they interview.
On top of that, media houses in Uganda also carry the burden of training their staff and distribute their papers, aspects that are taken care of by the government in other countries.
As I leave Uganda, I want to plead with my colleagues to always carry out their task with the public interest at heart, and not to succumb to any other pressures than accurate and balanced reporting — the truth and nothing but the truth.
To the authorities, I want to request to improve access to information, respect the role of the media and continue allowing free debate and flow of ideas.
As history has taught us, ‘closed communities’ have led to the most horrific crimes — be it religious cults, dictatorships, prisons or boarding schools. Even the suicide bombers of this terrorism era have all proven to be ‘closed communities’ in their own way — quiet, withdrawn human beings, stuck in their own locked world.
It is my sincere wish that a way can be found to regulate the media in Uganda without infringing on freedom of expression.
I want to thank my editors, sub-editors, reporters and photographers for their wonderful co-operation. They helped me feel the pulse of Uganda and analyse the daily upsurges and turbulences. I can only have deep respect for their commitment, courage and passion for journalism — finding the truth and nothing but the truth.
The long hours we spent together in the newsroom has created a lasting bond.
Finally, I want to thank our readers for their constructive feedback, comments, tips and opinions — for having honoured their part of the contract we signed three years ago.
You helped us correct our mistakes, give the other side of the story and keep The New Vision ship on course.
And you remained loyal, even when times were rough and the fever went very high.
I will miss Uganda and The New Vision everyday of my life.