No matter how we try, a black guy can’t be whiter than the white guy.
No matter what we do, Nigeria can’t become America.
In USA, old men and women are seen, practising journalism; in Nigeria, only the young are supposed to practice journalism.
Today, most media houses have placed age bars. I don’t know understand it.
It makes me to begin to ask questions. When are we supposed to quit?
Journalism is a noble profession, but hardly ever carters for the future. Thus you see journalists going hungry and begging once they leave the profession.
In a nutshell, what I can do?
In our churches, they tell us to become innovative and creative.
I have plans, but time to execute them seems to be my major challenge.
I looked at our workload at the office and realised that there’s no way one can pursue anything personal.
I get home mostly 11pm and try to catch up on the event of the day from my kid sister. I miss my kids a lot during the week. The only way to catch up is through my sister. I try to make up on Fridays and Saturdays, but I feel it’s not enough. I feel inadequate.
Most times, sleep hardly comes. I’m always bone tired, yet can’t sleep.
In office, no thanks to the recession and companies shutting down, pressure mounts and expectations keep increasing.
We’re expected to get;
- Cover stories
- Exclusive stories
- Prepare daily pages
- Prepare weekly pages
- Get insight stories (More like investigations)
- Don’t miss breaking stories
- Do special projects
- Come up with story ideas
- Attend meetings twice in a week without going out to source for the exclusive or cover stories or adverts or special project ideas.
I dey laugh ooo. Yes, water will definitely come out of the rock. Moses did it. We can do it.
Hummm. Things are getting tougher and journalism is losing its fun.
It used to be fun. A job, where you find challenges and meet them head on. Succour; a home away from home. Now, it’s just stifling, trying to knock the breath out of you.
Before, you feel a sense of achievement after a published story; these days, you feel like you haven’t done enough. Nobody gives a crap anyway!
I get the feeling, stories, no matter how good, no longer matters.
And the same atmosphere and tension pervades the media industry.
I was at a training last week, and Uncle Lekan of Nation Newspaper, said something…
It brought a lump to my throat…it’s however, the harsh reality of our time.
The coming death of an era…
According to late Dimgba Igwe, journalists have no excuse to be poor. Perhaps many of us have not keyed in into this message.
Perhaps I have not keyed into it.
My colleague’s face was like thunder yesterday. I knew something amiss.
I asked him; he opened up. Yes, even though you’re the boss, you need to respect people and stop humiliating or talking down on people.
Anyway, me I get my own troubles.
Yesterday, Tosin shocked my panties off my buttocks.
She talked about a school where JJS 1 kids, barely 10 years old, were suckling each other’s dicks.
Every time I think about it; I feel goose bumps all over my body. I get the creeps. Like somebody walked over my grave or something.
They couldn’t have learnt that in school. Likely homes, porn film or internet.
May God save our kids.
There’s nothing more we can do, than to pray for our kids.
We’re in perilous times.
Chiemele is preparing big time for her day. And we in the office are preparing big time for our MD’s day.
I’m missing Endurance.
I must do something about LeadwayAssurance.
Anointed told me today that his Taekwondo instructor, loved his canvass. He sounded quite excited or perhaps he’s excited about the game he’s playing on my phone.
Glory’s America friend, Yemi is home. Pretty woman.
I’m tired of taking this anti-biotic drug. It’s doing something funny to my body system.
Aunt Tola narrative is going on my blog…
The kidnapped Epe students and teachers were released yesterday at about 10:30pm. We give God the glory.