Worth your life?

November 3, 2024

In the absence of institutionalised safety training and measures, journalists are left fending for themselves

Worth your life?


I

t was the fateful evening of September 1, 2010. I was covering the traditional procession to commemorate the death anniversary of Imam Ali (with whom Allah was pleased) next to Karbala Gamay Shah in Lahore, for the country’s largest news channel. It was around 6:50 pm. The procession was about to conclude. As I stepped into the digital satellite newsgathering van, I heard an explosion. Screams of pain and horror followed.

It was a suicide bombing, the main explosion occurring just 20 yards away from our vehicle. The explosion failed to cause full impact because the suicide bomber fell down after a policeman tried to stop him from entering the crowd. This caused a mini-stampede and several people fell on him. Realising that he was also caught in barbed wires, the bomber blew himself up.

I immediately informed my newsroom about the explosion. The news channel immediately aired visuals with a phone beeper. I started adding details via phone as I roamed around the crowd and was still at it when a second explosion took place some 60-70 yards away in the crowd. Another suicide bomber had blown his explosive vest killing and wounding hundreds of mourners. I saw body parts flying in the air. I was live reporting on the second blast while on the same beeper when a third explosion was heard a couple of hundred yards away.

Only then did the newsroom discontinue my beeper. When I reached the DSNG van, I saw a man inciting the crowd to torch it. Sensing the gravity of the situation, I pushed him back and told the people he was a miscreant trying to aggravate the situation. Good sense prevailed. Some more people joined me in pushing him away. I told the van driver to disconnect the power generator, pack the satellite dish and move the vehicle away as I had heard some gunshots as well. We next parked the vehicle near Nasser Bagh, some 700 yards away from the site of the first explosion. I was reporting live till 1am.

When I returned to the newsroom, nobody inquired about my mental state or commented on my reporting. However, when the driver reported how I had managed to save the vehicle from being torched, a senior colleague thanked me and praised my presence of mind in saving the vehicle and the equipment. In the following days, I kept performing my duties.

Reflecting on the incidents of the day afforded me several important lessons. First and foremost: in Pakistan, a journalist must take his/ her own safety measures; adequate training is necessary.

In 2013, I received serious threats from a militant group. Although, this wasn’t the first time this had happened the wire service for which I then worked too learnt about the threats and offered relocation. When I refused, my seniors engaged an expert for stress counselling. Later, the office arranged two safety and security trainings for all staff. The training has proved truly useful.

The culture of impunity for crimes against journalists is turning the journalist fraternity into a marginalised community, putting freedom of expression and democracy at risk. 

Safety training for journalists is much needed in Pakistan but often ignored. According to Media Foundation 360’s data, more than 160 journalists have been killed in the country since 2000. Of those, investigation and prosecution were completed in only one case, that of US journalist Daniel Pearl. In his case, the principal accused, Ahmed Omar Sheikh was convicted by the court. Meanwhile, most of the people accused of crimes against journalists enjoy impunity.

Pakistan has one federal law, the Protection of Journalists and Media Professionals Act 2021, and one provincial law, the Sindh Protection of Journalists and Media Practitioners Act 2021. These, however, have not deterred the killings of journalists. Despite the promulgation of the two laws, crimes against journalists are on the rise. As many as eight journalists have been killed in the first nine months of 2024 for their work. Pakistan stands in the list of the most dangerous countries in the world for journalists.

The continuous killings of journalists for their work also raises questions about just how concerned local media houses in Pakistan are about their workers’ safety. Journalists’ unions can only voice their concerns. What journalists need to do is to learn the basic skills for their own safety.

I have conducted dozens of training workshops organised by local media development organisations like Media Foundation 360 and Pakistan Press Foundation, sponsored by the UNESCO and the Free Media Unlimited. I have observed that safety training equips journalists with skills to be able to work safely in most places in the country. In the Punjab and Sindh, journalists must learn how to work during violent protests and mob attacks. In Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and Balochistan, reporters must learn conflict zones skills, where they are at risk of bombings, sniper attacks, landmines and kidnappings.

Unfortunately, most media houses don’t provide protective gear and other safety equipment to their reporters working on the field, including in conflicts and potentially hazardous situations.

On the other hand, the culture of impunity for crimes against journalists is turning the journalist fraternity into a marginalised community, putting freedom of expression and democracy at risk. My advice to journalists working on the field is that they have to take care of their own safety. No story is worth risking a journalist’s life.


The writer is a senior journalist, teacher of journalism, writer and analyst. He tweets at @BukhariMubasher

Worth your life?