In harm’s way: Journalists in war-torn areas
Aug 15, 2011
JOURNALIST know that by going out to capture the news, their lives are endangered. Many have endured torture, from getting slapped to death threats, but hang in there because that is the nature of their work. Those who enter war-torn areas are at higher risk of being harmed or killed, but someone ha
JOURNALIST know that by going out to capture the news, their lives are endangered. Many have endured torture, from getting slapped to death threats, but hang in there because that is the nature of their work. Those who enter war-torn areas are at higher risk of being harmed or killed, but someone has to get the story as it happened. Continuing our series “Jobs that can drive you mad†we explore journalists in war-torn areas, and the health risks of this profession.
In harm’s way: Journalists.
They are always in harm’s way. They carry their pens, notebooks and cameras to battlefields, to relay the saga of the war to us.
Even those who stay in the comfort of their homes — it is the constant sight of blood through covering gory accidents or bomb blasts, or suffering the pain of constantly having to look over your shoulder for enemies in the case of an investigative journalist.
Veteran photo journalist Peter Busomoke, 61, has seen it all. More than half of his life has been spent taking photographs for both local and international press. He, however, believes that nothing prepares you for experiences at the battlefront.
He covered the second Congo war that involved seven foreign armies and claimed over 5.4 million people as well as the war in which the UPDF flushed the LRA rebels from northern Uganda. He claims to have seen enough blood to last him a lifetime, which has turned him into a reclusive, cold and sometimes rude person.
In his estimation, you have not practised real journalism if you have not covered any war. “The most difficult times are when you take pictures after massacres. You should have a stone heart, be able to stay in control and detach yourself emotionally … but it is very hard what we see, very hard.â€
He recalls a time after a massacre in Mungwalu, DRC. “A woman came to me with a baby in her arms. She cried that the baby’s parents had just been killed and begged me: ‘What am I going to do with him, what am I going to do?â€â€™
It was very hard on Busomoke because the little baby was roughly the same age as his young son back home. He fought the tears back, but like other soldiers, he had to move on. That incident still depresses him.
In the same war, he claims to have survived the saucepan of cannibals. “We were at a marketplace and I overheard two Lendu men discussing how they would feast on the enemies, while pointing at me. They conversed that I would be delicious if eaten with kwanga (cassava flour). They even plotted ways of capturing me. My knowledge of Lingala saved me, as I fled,†he recalls.
Busomoke, who has seen people shot dead and mutilated, ironically believes that counselling does not help. He advocates reasonable pay. “Those working for international media make a reasonable living, but the payment here is barely sufficient for one to meet their daily needs. It is what depresses most,†he says.
Protective ring
Joshua Kato, a journalist, has been on the Somali battle front as the AMISOM forces engage the Al-Shabaab fighters. He, however, believes that they (journalists) are surrounded with enough protective ring; you only risk when you venture out on your own, which is unlikely.
“Once in the war zone, we are under orders like the battling soldiers. We are debriefed on do’s and don’ts. Besides, we move in armoured vehicles. However, when under heavy gunfire, we crouch and crawl like the combatant soldiers,†he says.
His claim is corroborated by a UPDF military source who says that when on assignment in the conflict zones, journalists are guaranteed full time security. Even then, they are not in the line of fire during the window-to-window, or door-to-door action. Most journalists can get their footage after areas have been secured and enemies repulsed.
It is only in times of ambush or when they come under attack by snipers that they face danger. However, we give them necessary gear and besides, we expect them to have basic knowledge on the rules of survival in the chaos of conflict.
He says once at the location, journalists have to adhere to safety rules and are expected to be able to adapt to hostile environments, have clues on battle field first and off-road driving.
Inhuman profession
You can easily fault journalists for being devoid of human emotion, following the paradox: Bad news is always the best news for a journalist. In the event of an accident that does not result in death, it is easy to have the journalist declare to his editor that ‘there is no story’.
There is a splurge when death occurs, with some newspaper editors showing bloody scenes on their front pages much to the chagrin of the public.
Nicholas Kajoba, a photojournalist recalls how he considered quitting the profession in 2001 after witnessing the accident that killed four journalists in Lugazi.
“I was one of the first people on the scene when Kenneth Matovu and colleagues died. But rather than take pictures, I wailed alongside shocked bystanders. I never took a single shot and returned home depressed. But if it happened today, I would take the pictures. I understand it is part of my profession and I have to put food on the table,†he says.
It does not necessarily involve blood of others, but one’s own blood, especially if one is an investigative writer.
Stories abound of how writers and editors have been bribed, framed, slapped or threatened with death by those they expose.
However, according to Jonathan Angura, The New Vision’s assistant news editor (regional), even in the wake of such incidents like bribery, they are not swayed. “It is unethical for one to accept a bribe from a source to influence the outcome of stories. We are not even supposed to deal with them. Even when one buys space in case of supplements, there is a point when an editor meets the source. There are other forms of redress,†Angura says.
Psychological torment
Another war correspondent who prominently covered the LRA war admits that in the course of his work in Acholi, he became sympathetic to the cause. This psychological torment goaded him; he wanted to be critical of both sides in his reporting of the war but could not risk as he was under strict instructions from the combating force.
“I was part of the combat force and was indistinguishable from the soldiers in military fatigues and acting with the unit. I feared they would kill me if I practised real journalism and gave a balanced report on the war.â€
As it is, no amount of war can prepare a journalist for the psychological scars created by the brutality of war.
According to Dr. Eugene Kinyanda, a psychiatric consultant and suicidologist, alcoholism and divorce are high among journalists and one in every four suffer post-traumatic stress disorder, which sometimes leads to suicide. He advises media houses to have a detailed counselling programme for this lot.
In South Africa, Pulitzer Prize-winning photographer Kevin Carter documented the heinous act of “necklacing,†a form of public execution where a burning tyre is placed around the victim’s neck.
“I was appalled at what they were doing, I was appalled at what I was doing,†he said. Shortly after, Carter took his own life at the age of 33.
In harm’s way: Journalists.
They are always in harm’s way. They carry their pens, notebooks and cameras to battlefields, to relay the saga of the war to us.
Even those who stay in the comfort of their homes — it is the constant sight of blood through covering gory accidents or bomb blasts, or suffering the pain of constantly having to look over your shoulder for enemies in the case of an investigative journalist.
Veteran photo journalist Peter Busomoke, 61, has seen it all. More than half of his life has been spent taking photographs for both local and international press. He, however, believes that nothing prepares you for experiences at the battlefront.
He covered the second Congo war that involved seven foreign armies and claimed over 5.4 million people as well as the war in which the UPDF flushed the LRA rebels from northern Uganda. He claims to have seen enough blood to last him a lifetime, which has turned him into a reclusive, cold and sometimes rude person.
In his estimation, you have not practised real journalism if you have not covered any war. “The most difficult times are when you take pictures after massacres. You should have a stone heart, be able to stay in control and detach yourself emotionally … but it is very hard what we see, very hard.â€
He recalls a time after a massacre in Mungwalu, DRC. “A woman came to me with a baby in her arms. She cried that the baby’s parents had just been killed and begged me: ‘What am I going to do with him, what am I going to do?â€â€™
It was very hard on Busomoke because the little baby was roughly the same age as his young son back home. He fought the tears back, but like other soldiers, he had to move on. That incident still depresses him.
In the same war, he claims to have survived the saucepan of cannibals. “We were at a marketplace and I overheard two Lendu men discussing how they would feast on the enemies, while pointing at me. They conversed that I would be delicious if eaten with kwanga (cassava flour). They even plotted ways of capturing me. My knowledge of Lingala saved me, as I fled,†he recalls.
Busomoke, who has seen people shot dead and mutilated, ironically believes that counselling does not help. He advocates reasonable pay. “Those working for international media make a reasonable living, but the payment here is barely sufficient for one to meet their daily needs. It is what depresses most,†he says.
Protective ring
Joshua Kato, a journalist, has been on the Somali battle front as the AMISOM forces engage the Al-Shabaab fighters. He, however, believes that they (journalists) are surrounded with enough protective ring; you only risk when you venture out on your own, which is unlikely.
“Once in the war zone, we are under orders like the battling soldiers. We are debriefed on do’s and don’ts. Besides, we move in armoured vehicles. However, when under heavy gunfire, we crouch and crawl like the combatant soldiers,†he says.
His claim is corroborated by a UPDF military source who says that when on assignment in the conflict zones, journalists are guaranteed full time security. Even then, they are not in the line of fire during the window-to-window, or door-to-door action. Most journalists can get their footage after areas have been secured and enemies repulsed.
It is only in times of ambush or when they come under attack by snipers that they face danger. However, we give them necessary gear and besides, we expect them to have basic knowledge on the rules of survival in the chaos of conflict.
He says once at the location, journalists have to adhere to safety rules and are expected to be able to adapt to hostile environments, have clues on battle field first and off-road driving.
Inhuman profession
You can easily fault journalists for being devoid of human emotion, following the paradox: Bad news is always the best news for a journalist. In the event of an accident that does not result in death, it is easy to have the journalist declare to his editor that ‘there is no story’.
There is a splurge when death occurs, with some newspaper editors showing bloody scenes on their front pages much to the chagrin of the public.
Nicholas Kajoba, a photojournalist recalls how he considered quitting the profession in 2001 after witnessing the accident that killed four journalists in Lugazi.
“I was one of the first people on the scene when Kenneth Matovu and colleagues died. But rather than take pictures, I wailed alongside shocked bystanders. I never took a single shot and returned home depressed. But if it happened today, I would take the pictures. I understand it is part of my profession and I have to put food on the table,†he says.
It does not necessarily involve blood of others, but one’s own blood, especially if one is an investigative writer.
Stories abound of how writers and editors have been bribed, framed, slapped or threatened with death by those they expose.
However, according to Jonathan Angura, The New Vision’s assistant news editor (regional), even in the wake of such incidents like bribery, they are not swayed. “It is unethical for one to accept a bribe from a source to influence the outcome of stories. We are not even supposed to deal with them. Even when one buys space in case of supplements, there is a point when an editor meets the source. There are other forms of redress,†Angura says.
Psychological torment
Another war correspondent who prominently covered the LRA war admits that in the course of his work in Acholi, he became sympathetic to the cause. This psychological torment goaded him; he wanted to be critical of both sides in his reporting of the war but could not risk as he was under strict instructions from the combating force.
“I was part of the combat force and was indistinguishable from the soldiers in military fatigues and acting with the unit. I feared they would kill me if I practised real journalism and gave a balanced report on the war.â€
As it is, no amount of war can prepare a journalist for the psychological scars created by the brutality of war.
According to Dr. Eugene Kinyanda, a psychiatric consultant and suicidologist, alcoholism and divorce are high among journalists and one in every four suffer post-traumatic stress disorder, which sometimes leads to suicide. He advises media houses to have a detailed counselling programme for this lot.
In South Africa, Pulitzer Prize-winning photographer Kevin Carter documented the heinous act of “necklacing,†a form of public execution where a burning tyre is placed around the victim’s neck.
“I was appalled at what they were doing, I was appalled at what I was doing,†he said. Shortly after, Carter took his own life at the age of 33.