Tributes to Kirubi, not obituary. That’s how to summarize the media’s coverage of billionaire Chris Kirubi’s death from cancer last week.
A good orbit is usually a balanced, honest tale of the dead.
In the action thriller, Red 2, when Marvin Boggs (John Malkovich) fakes his death in an attempt to escape government assassins, his best friend Frank Moses (Bruce Willis), certain that Marvin is dead, gives an awkward eulogy.
“Marvin was a very good shot,” says Moses, searching for words. “Some would say that he was paranoid. He could wire a bomb better than anybody I ever met. He was a really good friend. I’m gonna miss him.”
Who wouldn’t find that refreshingly honest?
Before former US Senator John McCain died of brain tumour in 2018, he called a former fierce political opponent and leader of an opposing party, President Barack Obama, who had left office, and requested Obama to give the eulogy at his funeral. McCain trusted Obama to tell the truth about his (McCain’s) life. Obama did not disappoint.
“John and I could not have been more different […]. I have a reputation for keeping cool – John, not so much (McCain could go from full-throated laughter to blowing a fuse in half a second; his cursing was legendary). And throughout my presidency, John never hesitated to tell me when he thought I was screwing up – which by his calculation was about once a day. But for all our differences, I never tried to hide […] the long-standing admiration that I had for him,” Obama said, before listing the dead senator’s stellar attributes.
Or consider Senator Gideon Moi’s eulogy at his father President Daniel arap Moi’s funeral in February 2020. The younger Moi told on his father, that the old man could not be separated from his meat. It didn’t matter what some “doktari” said about it. In so doing, Gideon humanized his father, telling tales of bad stuff – well, albeit in jest – before getting to the expected flowery attributes.
That’s balance, in a eulogy (imagine that), not journalism. What about an orbit, which is journalism? A higher balance is not merely expected; it’s an imperative.
But sample the headlines alone last week.
The Standard: “Chris Kirubi wanted to employ as many people as possible,” by Judah Ben-Hur (June 19); “Kirubi had razor-sharp intellect and nurtured promising young talent,” by Eric Latiff (June 19), etcetera.
Nation/Business Daily: “Chris Kirubi: Tycoon who easily juggled business and pleasure,” by Patrick Alushula (June 15); “Chris Kirubi, the insider in government,” by Samuel Owino (June 15).
The Star: “Chris Kirubi, the man with swag,” by Elizabeth Ngigi (June 14); “Sheer hard work made Kirubi among richest Kenyans,” by Susan Nyawira (June 14).
Look, nobody makes money without a speck of controversy. Nobody. Imagine one who piles up billions. No controversy?
We’re not calling on journalism to bash capitalism. Without money makers there would be no employers outside government. Big money makers are the captains of society. We’re not suggesting media should bash them when they die. No, just tell a balanced story. Don’t gush.
About Kirubi, you could count a balanced story on your five fingers – for example, the Nation’s “Chris Kirubi, billionaire who attracted both fortune and controversy,” by Paul Wafula (June 15).
Practically all the rest was gushing eulogy, no balanced storytelling.
Talking about gushing, what is it that makes grown men’s and women’s knees turn into porridge before wealth or power?
Well, whatever it is, it’s not the stuff that cutting-edge journalists are made of. A cutting-edge journalist isn’t easily fazed. Not that they are arrogant, but journalists worth the title come to the scene with a stubborn desire to uncover unvarnished version of events – or a man. And then to tell it dispassionately. That’s all.
