There are so many occupational hazards a journalist encounters in the line of duty. Interviewing an annoying, exasperating, “long overdue for a slap” character is one of them.
For the sake of clarity, “you” in the headline and “character” in the first paragraph could be a politician, entertainer, sports star (or “I was once a star”), or any newsworthy personality.
However, let me warn you before you continue. This story will not make you an interviewer’s delight any more than an article on tips on how to make money will turn you to a Dangote. But I hope it makes you, erm, less annoying, less exasperating, and less overdue for a slap!
Mr. Liar Liar
Don’t fabricate stories and don’t say “no comment” to a journalist, however nosy and intrusive. That’s No.1 and No.2 sins combined. If the truth can’t set you free or you really don’t have anything to say tell him: “I will get back to you.” Ask for his phone number and email address and agree on a time to get back to him. And get back to him as promised. Don’t lie about that, either.
Stop fielding questions
To field question is to duck it. Simple. Don’t write: “Fielding questions from reporters in Lagos, Fela Anikulapo-Kuti said…” Let the Abami Eda take or answer questions in future.
That was an “aside”. Back to “9 things…”.
Since IBB, no Nigerian “leader” has shown the knack for fielding questions.
Me: “Mr. Head of State, N30b is missing from the military’s account and you are being accused. Did you take the money?”
IBB: “Do I look like a thief?”
Of course, I made that up. However, here’s a real interview:
Newswatch: “You defended your Minister of Finance’s right to express personal opinions on the IMF loan debate. What is your personal view?”
IBB: “As a President or as a Nigerian?”
Newswatch: “As a Nigerian citizen.”
IBB: “Well, both the President and the Nigerian are Nigerians…”
Don’t be like IBB. It is annoying. It is exasperating! Unless you care for a slap.
Mr. Lack Understanding
Despite how you perceive us, we are professionals trained in the art of extracting information you would prefer to keep to yourself. Many of our interviewees would like us to be understandable when we do our jobs. But if we continue to be understandable, will our editors and audience show us same understanding? We have deadlines and targets! So, if you see your name on page one of tomorrow’s newspaper in an unflattering context, don’t judge us harshly. Rather, try to be understanding!
“I was quoted out of context”
We know that’s what you will say after reading today’s newspaper. Here’s what we have to say: “Executives who haven’t had much experience talking to the media often complain that they were quoted out of context. Tough luck,” Joel Kurtzman said in his book MBA in a Box.
“It’s not the reporter’s job to accept your context. The reporter is looking for a few colourful words to plug into his own context. So, if you talk for an hour and say ninety-nine positive thing about a subject, with only one less-than-positive aside, guess which one will appear in print.”
You guessed right.
Bully is the name that they gave him
Adebayo Alao-Akala, a former governor of Oyo state, got furious in an interview with The Punch newspaper some time ago.
One of the reporters, Adeola Balogun or Tunde Odesola, had asked whether it was part of the ex-police officer’s fashion to bleach.
Akala, who would not take the question lightly, lashed out: “Bleach? That is stupidity; you are asking a very stupid question. How can I bleach? You are very stupid to ask that question. What do you mean by that? What gave you that impression?”
(He pulled up his clothes and singlet at this time to show his fair complexion.) “Is this bleaching? Have you seen the cream that I use that makes me bleach or did you know me when I was black?
“If you want to write that, put it there that I said you are very stupid to ask me that kind of question. What you don’t know; you ask. You don’t even know my parents. Is my wife complaining or my children? I don’t know what gave anybody the impression that I bleach. You don’t know me; do you know what it takes to bleach?”
Akala, who obviously won’t be a fan of one of Fela’s hit track, Yellow Fever, was really offended by the question. But Sir Akala, this is no esprit de corps because I am not taking side with a fellow journalist, but can Balogun or Odesola ask Adams Oshiomhole same question? Just wondering in my wanderings.
African Time
Don’t just turn up late for an event and feel cool about it. “They cannot start if I’m not there”, is true. Considering the dog eat dog ecosystem in journalism, “I cannot leave until he shows up” is true as well. But it is frustrating. I recently attended a one-day workshop organised by the Standard Organisation of Nigeria in Benin City, Edo state. A 9am event started over two hours behind schedule because the guest speaker and seventy percent of those meant to be on the “high table” were yet to arrive. I spoke to one of the “highness” and she said she knew “the event can’t possibly start on time” that was why she came around 11am. Yet during Tea Break, members of the “high table”, esteemed members of the “late comers committee”, were first served.
RIP, “first come, first served”!
“Do you know who I am?”
Never try to impress us with your importance, high position, wealth, fancy office, or perks. We know you are a politician, or an entertainer, or a sports star (or “I was once a star”), or a newsworthy personality. Tell the rest to your PR consultant or ghostwriter!
Na crazeman be dat…
Well, he may not be “an animal in human skin” according to Fela in Beast of No Nation but every reporter has had a close shave with “An Almost Yaba Left Patient” (AAYLP) dressed as a politician, entertainer, sports star (or “I was once a star”), or a news worthy personality. I can mention names of one or two I have had the misfortune of meeting in the course of my job. But can one SANless lawyer in my corner win a case against the AAYLP’s 25 SANs in a slander suit against me? I bet not.
In case you are not clear on what an encounter with AAYLP means, let me recall a story narrated by a foreign colleague in a book.
“The first meeting with Roy Keane did not go terribly well,” Matt Lawton wrote in an anthology of modern football writing, Forgive Us Our Press Passes.
“It was in a hotel at Dublin Airport and the then Manchester United captain was walking out of the breakfast room. He was alone and I thought it was a good time to ask him if there was any chance of a chat after he had finished training with his Irish international colleagues. I’m not entirely sure what happened next, but amid the expletives came a lecture about bad manners. I had invaded his personal space, which I thought took some doing in a public area, but I stood there calmly while he continued his tirade and simply marked him down as a lunatic who was best avoided in the future.
“When I saw him again in a post-match mixed zone after a Champions League game at Old Trafford, he was only too happy to stop and talk.”
Lawton would have thought his “trespasses” had been forgiven. How wrong?
“Distracted by the sight of Dwight Yorke clowning around behind him, I dared divert my gaze away from the Irishman and towards his jubilant teammate. It was only a split second, but long enough to send Keane into a rage. ‘If you’re not going to look at me, I’m not going to answer your f*** questions,’ he said. And that was pretty much that.”
They later kissed and made up, though.
We hate it when you generalise
“Journalists are like mosquitoes, you must kill them in time,” Clemens Westerhof, a former Super Eagles coach, said this in 2006, five years before I joined the profession. Granted, there are always one or two bad eggs in any given endeavour. But one size doesn’t fit all. Don’t generalise. All journalists are not mosquitoes. All Igbos are not money conscious. All Yorubas are not backstabbers. All Esans are not fetish. At least I know I am not!
Are you a politician, or an entertainer, or a sports star (or “I was once a star”), or a newsworthy personality? Feel free to disagree with me by leaving your comment below.
Written by Victor Akhidenor.
