When i was still a kid, news to me was a part-off kind of thing which the aliens from i don’t know where, crafted to blurt it’s way into the radio before you and create a sense of feel that you had become a bit elderly and concerned amongst those that saw you listen to it.
News in whatever form print or electronic was heard in utter-most, graveyard silence like the world had come to stand-still, but bare with those days, it could come with an announcement that the president had been overthrown or perhaps the land you are in had been surrounded by rebels, gone are the times,….(with elderly look)
I have since grown up from those murky thoughts and stuck my nose into a newsroom from then as a gradual -willing to learn chap not a graduated one! it makes no difference either-way. So to be an intern that everyone is willing to teach or perhaps cope with, you have to put up a few stern faces, cross a few poorly constructed bridges that make you wish to fall over and stick your face with issues and not “wolokoso”, political talk, street jargon rumours and press conference or sausage eating stories.
The day i was birthed to the news world, was no hail mary’s eve or perfect couple’s honeymoon, it was a slaughterhouse, filled with flows disappointments, stretches of anguish over my face, with a don’t-cross-my-eyes-look from news sources.
I could have backed out from there, go home and catch up on all the latest of my favourite serie boston legal, or perhaps sleep till my eyes couldn’t take it but here I was persisiting I could make a better journalist than the studied fellows.
Unluckily for me, the intern manual where I’d checked in for internship, was far hidden in either a bookshop with clouds of dirt hovering over it every other day or yet to be drafted. Interns here had resorted to hit and run tactics of news gathering, showing up once only to pull several disappearing acts few days later, the heat was hard to bare i guess.
The newsroom was a loving one, the kind that soothes you with a good idea and boots you with a poor one! they, without any blemish provide all contact you need for the creme-de-la-creme story which could earn you a whole jeer protest meeting if you don’t deliver.
#STILL RUNNING! WATCHOUT FOR SEASON 2