Language of disaster

(Gondar, Ethiopia)--When should an event be called a crisis, disaster, or catastrophe?

I had an interesting discussion with my Fulbright colleague Tim and one of his PhD students in public health at Gondar University about the power and importance of language for anyone communicating with the public. As peace journalists, avoiding inflammatory language is a fundamental tenet. I told my companions that peace journalists search for precise language that properly conveys a situation without sensational or emotional baggage.

I recommended the same caution for public health officials, beginning with carefully and consistently selecting the terms they use to describe a public health issue. My suggestion was that public health officials team with government officials and NGO’s to develop a public health alert system that describes events precisely using a graduated scale ranging from mild to emphatic. I think it’s important that all officials are using the same terminology, since it would create confusion to have the mayor using the term “crisis” while the public health office are calling it an “alert.”

Our lunch meeting was a reminder for me that precise, non-inflammatory language is important for many professionals, and not just peace journalists.

Logistics and preparations at Gondar University

Gondar U; rear entrance under construction

As I prepare for the upcoming semester, my appreciation of the work done by my colleagues at Gondar University to facilitate my stay here continues to grow. Finding a suitable apartment was task one. My place is small but nice, near the university and my American Fulbright colleagues. I have my classes lined up as well—Broadcast and multimedia writing, and Development communication. Both will be infused with a heavy dose of peace journalism. I’ll also be giving PJ lectures at Gondar University.

Dorms, Gondar U.

Now, I’m doing the lesson planning for my courses, and preparing content for an upcoming two day peace journalism workshop in Bahir Dar, about two hours away from Gondar by car. I’ll return to Bahir Dar in March to attend and speak at an international communications conference.

Kenyan situation highlights need for PJ

(Gondar, Ethiopia)—In a move that underscores the need for peace journalism, the Kenyan government this week shut down three TV networks, including the powerful and popular NTV. The shutdown was overturned by a Kenyan court, though the networks were still off the air 24 hours later.

The stated reason for the shutdown was fear that a broadcast planned by the networks would incite violence. The broadcast in question was a live feed of the faux inauguration of Raila Odinga, who finished second in two disputed presidential elections last year.

The showdown blatantly violates Kenya’s constitution, which unequivocally guarantees press freedom. NTV and the others were well within their rights to broadcast Odinga’s event, which is clearly news.

Was the Kenyan government truly concerned that broadcasting Odinga’s protest inauguration live would inflame violence, or instead was the move simply political, designed to marginalize a political opponent?

If there is genuine fear of violence, those concerns are no doubt fueled by the awful events of 2007-08 when several Kenyan vernacular language radio stations stoked inter-ethnic violence that claimed 800-1000 lives and displaced 250,000. Had radio stations practiced peace journalism, the 2007-08 violence would have been avoided or mitigated, removing an excuse for the government to harass and censor the media.

At the end of one of my recent seminars in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, one young reporter asked me, “If reporters practice peace journalism, can we avoid censorship?” My answer was that good journalism, especially peace journalism, is harder to censor, whereas irresponsible, inflammatory, sloppy journalism makes tighter control easier for authorities. Unfortunately, this is what we are seeing unfold now in Kenya. It’s no telling how long Kenyan journalists will be made to pay for the transgressions of some of their colleagues a decade ago. 

All fine in Gondar

Prior to the start of the semester, I'm hard at work here on lesson plans, meetings with my dept chair and other faculty, etc. I'm also planning for an upcoming two day seminar in nearby Bahir Dar. Also, I'm moving today from a hotel into my apartment. Will post pictures soon, if I can. The internet here is terrible--very slow and unreliable.

Rampaging bulls, melancholy chickens:
My First 36 Hours in Gondar

(Gondar, Ethiopia) –As we zoomed around the corner in downtown Gondar in a tuk-tuk, a small three wheeled conveyance, we spotted a very testy bull ambling down the street, daring anyone to cross his path. Unsuspecting pedestrians who came within six feet of him were shown his horns in a most threatening manner, and fortunately everyone leapt to safety, some angrily calling after the bull in Amharic words that undoubtedly couldn’t be printed in an Amharic newspaper. About a minute later, and at least a block  behind, we finally spotted the bull’s handler scampering after his wayward bovine. I can’t imagine him ever catching up with the bull.

Riding with me in the tuk-tuk, and assuring me that rampaging bulls aren’t a daily occurance in Gondar, was Tim, part of a contingent of two Fulbrighters and their family members encamped here. They are wonderful people who have already made me feel welcome. This is especially true of 3-year old Reggie, who can’t wait to take a swim in my hotel pool.

I was invited over for dinner Friday night, and our hostess planned to make chicken. Here in Gondar, if one wants chicken, there is only one option—go to the arada, the central market, and buy a live chicken. This was not an appetizing prospect for me, though I did not vocalize this since I didn’t want to be seen as the soft city boy that I am. Yes, I am a chicken, and no, the irony does not escape me.

We found our way to the chicken aisle of the arada with me trailing as far behind as I could without arousing suspicion. As we showed an interest to the first chicken vendor, we were swarmed by a dozen chicken sellers, each showing off the relative merits of their birds. I let my friends make the purchase, since I wouldn’t know a good chicken from one with a more checkered past. (The arada, by the way, is amazing in a way that only an African market can be.)

On the way home from the arada, we crammed three humans and four live chickens in the back of a tuk-tuk. The chickens, which they didn’t make me hold, thank God, were mostly quiet. However, occasionally, one of them would let out a soulful, melancholy cluck that indicated that they might just understand the fate that awaited them. On the way home, I was asked if I wanted to come over and partake in the, ahem, festivities involving the chickens, axes, and knives. I politely passed.

During the 10 minute trip, I tried my best to not look at the chickens because if I made eye contact, I knew that I couldn’t eat them. One did peck at my pants.

At dinner, I unenthusiastically nibbled on the expertly prepared chicken, comforted somewhat in the fact that there was a chance I was eating the "pecker." Should the chance arise, however, I would much more enthusiastically partake in a plate of rampaging bull.

Steven Youngblood is in Ethiopia for the Spring, 2018 semester as part of a special State Department peace journalism fellowship. His (mis)adventures will be posted regularly in this space.

PJ project launches with lectures, video conference

Zoom video conference w/Haramaya Univ, others

(Addis Ababa, Ethiopia) Our semester-long peace journalism project is off to a rousing start after four half-day PJ workshops for students and journalists.

Yesterday at Addis Ababa University, I was impressed by an impassioned comment made by a PhD student who expressed his concern that the concepts of peace journalism and developmental journalism are being “twisted” by government officials here and elsewhere. That twist is when government officials incorrectly present peace and development  journalism as reporting that embraces and supports government policies and initiatives. Of course, the opposite is true. Both genres encourage journalists to hold governments accountable. Journalists do not support governments, they report about them.

My workshop at AAU was broadcast via Zoom (a Skype competitor) to three universities in Ethiopia. I’m told this was the first such university-to-university hook up. I believe it went well, particularly with my full-house of students at Haramaya University. They were engaged and attentive, posing many challenging questions.

At Ethiopian Broadcast Services

Today, I met two excellent groups of professional journalists—the first from professional media associations, and the second at Ethiopian Broadcast Services. After the latter meeting, a young reporter asked me if practicing peace journalism could persuade the government to stop censoring media. I responded that good journalism, including peace journalism, is always harder to censor than poor journalism and inflammatory reporting, which can give officials an excuse to censor.

Next: My assignment in Gondar begins tomorrow. More soon.

Peace Journalism Project in Ethiopia Not Shut Down
(ADDIS ABABA, ETHIOPIA)--As I arrived in Ethiopia this weekend, I was left wondering about my semester-long peace journalism project, and if the the U.S. government shutdown might affect the project. Today, I've learned the good news--since the government funds that are helping to pay for the initiative were encumbered before the shutdown began, my project will proceed as planned.

Thus, my four presentations this week to various groups here in Addis Ababa are still a go. When I'm finished here in Addis this week, I'll be headed north to Gondar, where I'll be spending the majority of my time this semester.

This morning, I am receiving various briefings here at the U.S. Embassy. I note with admiration the espirit de corps here, at least among those with whom I've chatted this morning. All seem to accept the reality of shutdowns as a part of government work, and all seem determined to work around the shutdown as best they can (while obeying the rules, of course).