I have been silent, very silent and at one point thought of scaling off this digest and concentrating on my personal blog. But true to the old saying “silence is gold”. The moments of silence have ushered me into reflection on the cream.
Six years ago, I heard that “Journalists at URN were the cream of the cream”, this phrase has continued to resonate in my ears. Who would have not loved this tag anyway?
I have worked with URN because I am part of the cream, -thick, attractive, delicious and stand above the rest. It was never a matter of choice but we were up there.
I remember my first days at the URN news room in Sedler Lane with all its calmness, serenity, the cream team.
I remember the editorial meetings where crap or garbs were never closer to the cream. The first Editor to make an impression on me was Sis Rachel, a no nonsense and committed who contributed to my skills. Such was the team that on a day we wanted the cream, we would form a rig to make sure no adulterated missives crawl through the cream.
The team soared above to shed off that light unattractive part and slowly curve into the cream. There was passion and compassion for the cream and we went just for that. The likes of TM, “ we must discomfort the comforted” he always said, the towering CO, towering with the high towered stories, DR, the Bazoouka rising from one of the areas that has good relations with the Congo.
My memories reflect back on the three girls Rosebell Kagumire, snaking through the Health beat and always fleshing out fresh perspectives. Lynn Musitwa, mastering the council, always on her feet to do what she likes and off course Christine Nabunya, a time keeper who would afford a smile amid criticism. The team worked hard to keep and not sink the cream.
Yes it is true I am describing an innocent pure faith I have harbored in URN for the last six years.I am no longer a child and my relationship to the cream is much more complicated. I have gone through periods when I have found myself at a distance from the cream for one reason or another, but because I yearn for that taste and smell, I have always returned to it, it has been my professional home.
My relationship with the cream has withstood many disagreements, professional arguments and disappointments. Never before however, has the cream come under threat with the advancement of technologies, social networks and an emerging citizenry journalism. As a news agency, to get the cream required as my Brother Sam loved to say “ Being the first on the scene and being the last on the scene”.
In recent weeks I have seen my brother scream, and I guess when he is driving he just screeches at how horrible some stories have instead of adding a flavour to make thick cream, have instead added drops of sloppiness to dilute the cream. I saw my towering brother scream the other day and I must say. I am having a very hard time wrapping my head around that.
How can I continue to find professional sustenance on the cream that I care about? In the last couple of days I have had conversations with myself, a monologue if you like and shared with my ego the pain in the face of a cream under threat. It is hard to listen to my ego tell me that some of the works that would contribute to a thick cream are just crap.
I am grateful to the big brother eyes that continue to pry over the cream screaming and screeching as the years sail. My faith formation has been within the professional home. So although I am away and angry, I yearn for the smell of the cream, that stood thick and was an attraction to the hungry consumers.
To my professional friends, remember each day is different, the advances in how we look for the cream and the challenges are ever evolving, but there is never a dull moment unless you allow one to creep through.