At a media forum in Nairobi on February 12, Broadcasting PS Fatuma Hirsi brought up an issue that has over the years blighted journalism: Corruption. Scribes on the take.
Hirsi said “incidences of corruption in the media must be addressed to promote trust. We need to find ways where media and other players join hands to fight this vice.”
She called for “a professional, accountable and public interest driven media.”
Corruption in the media hardly stirs public attention. There are no dramatic reports of journalists grabbed by their pants and spirited away to police cells during DCI George Kinoti’s movie-like Kamata Kamata Fridays.
No one has exposed land, cars or any other property given to a journalist by some politician or other big shot to influence coverage.
What we hear about often is “brown envelopes.” Small money. A few thousands.
But the problem is much bigger. As with all corruption, there is no data on the extent of the vice in the media. But there is credible anecdotal evidence to suggest the problem is huge.
Months ago, a former senior journalist recounted at a private meeting how a business editor at a major newspaper was for years on the payroll of a certain big bank. The paper would not carry any negative report on that bank.
The former scribe said it was a fairly common practice for some journalists to be on the payroll of politicians and big business. The journalist was once made an offer but declined.
Last October, University of Nairobi economist and Nation columnist Bitange Ndemo recounted a startling experience that he said “provided a great learning moment for me on the intricacies of the workings of local journalism.”
Ndemo had written an article on the impact of the Finance Bill 2018, with its introduction of value added tax on fuel, was having on citizens.
Thereafter, “an audacious reporter called me and accused me of showing my card in the ongoing 2022 political succession intrigues.”
Ndemo said his critical article came not long after he had written another one in which he criticised the weekly inordinate generosity of some politicians making huge donations at fundraisers.
“To the reporter, any apparent opposition to activities and policy decisions of leaders was tantamount to dissidence, aimed at interfering with the political chances of some leaders ascending to bigger positions,” Ndemo wrote.
Anyone familiar with the realities of Kenyan newsrooms knows what the former Permanent Secretary is talking about. Some journalists act as gatekeepers for certain interests, political or commercial. That is what Ndemo encountered.
A few years ago, a business reporter at one of the top TV stations filed his story and went home. But the report was not aired on the bulletin for which it was scheduled. The reporter got a call from his boss. Could he please return to the office and rework the story? He was told he should remove portions of his report that cast an important advertiser in negative light. The reporter complied with the order and the watered down version of his story was aired.
In 2017, Thomas Lansner of the Aga Khan Graduate School of Media and Communications published a report titled, “A Fourth Estate for Sale: The Watchdog and Kenya’s Caravan of Corruption”. The report was based on short study of the local media scene.
Lansner writes about “the ubiquitous ‘Brown Envelope Rot’ that severely constrains Kenya media’s capacity to honestly address the most important issues facing their country.”
His conclusion is damning: ‘Envelopmental journalism’ is the norm across most Kenyan media, from salaried staff reporters to poorly-compensated county correspondents paid little more than Sh500-1,000 for an article.
“Paid-for press prevails not only because almost all sectors of Kenya society consider corruption as entirely normal; journalists, particularly the freelance ‘correspondents’, are so ill-paid that, day-to-day, being biddable is tantamount to financial survival. Think unga. Consider school fees. Ponder sugar…. Kenya media people are highly vulnerable and often pliable to financial inducements.”
This conclusion is similar to that reached by a detailed study commissioned in 2010 by the civil society organisation AfriCoG on corruption in Kenyan media. Read the report here.
Given this level of ‘envelopmental journalism’, it is patently preposterous to talk about independent media in Kenya. One of the major casualties of this vice is investigative journalism. It is dead. Serious muck racking would never see the light of day.
Renowned investigative journalist John Allan-Namu tells the story of how he and then colleague Mohammed Ali were offered Sh1.5 million by a businessman they were probing to abandon the story. They declined, were threatened and had to flee the country.
Considering what Lansner writes about and the findings of the AfriCoG study, how many Kenyan scribes can reject a Sh1.5 million bribe – or even far less?
What is to be done? Prayers, as proposed by the Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission? DCI Kinoti’s Kamata Kamata Fridays around newsrooms? Inclusion of corruption in media school curriculums? President declaring corruption a national disaster? And then what?
The matter is complex. It is not always true – as Lansner implies – that journalists accept bribes because they are poorly paid. Of course poor terms of service make scribes vulnerable. But we also know rich people who have an insatiable appetite. They want more. Greed.
Better pay for journalists would be an important step – although this is unlikely with most media houses facing shrinking revenues. Kamata Kamata Fridays? Not much promise there.
Or maybe, there is a dire need to tighten the requirements of journalism as a profession like the others. Establish some basics thus making it easy to hold a professional journalist to account.
The media serves (and is part of) society. It is unlikely to remain untainted by the rot that covers every facet of life in Kenya. Corruption in the media can only be tackled successfully in the context of addressing the national crisis of public morality.
