Journalism; the Bane, the Pain & the Gain

It was a beautiful Saturday and I was grateful to God that today I’d get at least one extra hour of sleep. Honestly, I wasn’t planning on leaving my bed till 10:00am and then I’d have a proper breakfast, see the latest movie on my laptop and then go swimming. Afterwards I’ll go hang out with friends and then catch up on what’s been happening in our lives. The day was scheduled to end with a quiet evening that will give me the chance to finish the latest bestseller in my collection, a light supper and then sleep. So imagine my bewilderment when my phone rang at 8:00am. It was a friend of mine who wanted to know what was happening in school that day. “What is supposed to be happening?” I asked making no efforts to hide my displeasure. “It’s a Saturday” I replied acidly and eager to toss the damned phone away and get back to my sleep. He laughed into the phone in that way that makes you feel you are the brunt of a joke and yet know nothing about it. Of course he was not done with me yet, he intended for me to beg him to reveal the secret to me. On a normal day, I’d tell him to hell with him; if he won’t tell, then I won’t tell him the latest story making the rounds. This silliness of ours could go on for ten minutes but not today. Today I was in the mood for sleep and sleep alone. So I quickly cut to the chase and said, “Please dear, what is happening in school today?” He laughed a deep throaty laugh and said, “It is Convocation, the President is coming to school with a whole lot of dignitaries”. That singular information, no matter how casually it was tossed my way had effectively ruined my day before it even started. I had to get out of bed and do the thirty minutes weekday routine-Brew tea, brush, drink tea, shower, dress up, eat cereal and out of the house-on a Saturday morning. As I was doing that, I could not help but wonder how I got to this point in my life. I’m not one of those who go about claiming to want to change the world. I just wanted to do something I love and that was how I became a reporter for my school magazine. Of course it is only part time or so I thought at the beginning but now it’s a full time job that takes 25-30hours in a day. I’ve always loved writing be it stories or articles, true or false ones as far as I had a cause to write, I write. And my choice of words when it comes to re-enacting events paints a vivid picture in the mind of my readers. I thought these skills will get me to my desired height in the field of journalism. I’m yet to get there because somehow, I keep adjusting that mark a little more each time. So here I was rushing off to work for which I’m not being paid for, on a Saturday morning that I had planned to go perfectly well. Days like this just make me wish that I was not a journalist. Not just because I was leaving my well-made plans but because of the kind of day I was going to have. It will involve plenty of standing especially if there was no prior security clearance but even if there was, I’d still have some standing to do. Then lobby for interview grants and risk being beat up or called all of sorts of names by thugs…sorry security personnel. And then make notes as each dignitary makes his or her speech no matter how boring it is. At the end of the day, I’ll then compress all the notes I must have made (often running into ten pages) into a two page essay that is witty and captivating. Did I mention that this has to be ready before 10:00pm of the same day? So that is life as an amateur journalist or is it really? Well, when things get to this stage I just have to keep hope alive and believe that things will get better for me as they have gotten for my uncle. He’s been recognized but locally and nationally for his contribution to the world of journalism. Also people like the famed Christiana Amanpour of CNN who constantly puts her life at risk to get the story told and earns an annual 7-figure salary in dollars that is. What of Richard Quest who’s constantly touring the world and getting paid for it? Journalism might not be so much fun for me now but there is hope, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.