Death of a Keroche daughter and headline that mocks rich parents

PETER MWAURA

By PETER MWAURA
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The reporting of the death of Tecra Wangari Muigai of Keroche Breweries fell short of ethical journalism.

The media gave details of her death that were not necessary to tell or advance the story, just as a graphic and gory picture of a dead or dying person would not be necessary to report a murder. The details, mainly personal information, violated her privacy and dignity.

The details were given by nameless people. If a person wants to say negative things about another person, he or she should not be allowed to do so anonymously.

Storytellers should not have the freedom to scandalise others while hiding behind anonymity.

The media should not have carried, for example, claims by unnamed persons that Tecra “lived a lavish lifestyle, including daily drinking and chewing miraa with the boyfriend, although their relationship was rocky”, among other unsubstantiated claims.

Citizens should be allowed to die without their dignity and privacy being violated. Personal information shouldn’t be unnecessarily revealed, especially when it’s unproven and is of no public interest, which is not the same as public curiosity.

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Journalists have no obligation to pander to morbid or prurient public curiosity.

When publishing personal information, journalists should think of the pain and suffering that would be caused to the family of the victim.

And they should ask themselves: would I like my own daughter, sister or relative to be so reported? Is the information pandering to people’s baser instincts?

In reporting stories of personal tragedy, journalists should follow the Golden Rule principle: “Treat others as you would want to be treated.”

Now that I’ve got that out of the way, let me turn to the headline of the week, “Cry me a river… When private schools ‘go rogue’ to exploit filthy rich parents” published on page 12 of the Daily Nation on Tuesday.

The headline conveys excessive animus and scorn for parents of private school students.

The actual story, by David Muchunguh, doesn’t contain any such derision. The headline is its writer’s expression of what he approves or disapproves.

He characterises parents who send their children to private schools as “filthy rich”, that is, stinking rich. He is telling us their wealth is excessive or offensive, and that probably they’re rich because we’re poor.

The kicker — words that further explain a headline — describes private schools as “fancy”. This also has the ring of disapproval, which is not present in the story.

We normally don’t describe schools as “fancy”, no matter how decorative or expensive they might appear. The only things we normally think of as fancy are clothes, wedding cakes, furniture and so on. To call a school fancy is to trivialise or make fun of it.

The headline writer doesn’t like “filthy rich” parents complaining that the private schools — in these times of Covid-19 lockdown — are charging excessive fees in view of the fact that their children are studying at home.

That’s why he uses the phrase. He’s saying we’re tired of, or irritated by, the parents’ grumbling and crying about the fees.

The etymology of the phrase goes back to the lyrics of “Cry Me a River”, a song by American singer-songwriter Justin Timberlake, that was popular in the 1950s.

The singer tells his girlfriend, who has cheated on him but now wants to come back, that she can keep crying (“cry me a river”) but he won’t feel sorry for her.

The phrase is used as a sarcastic response to someone who’s complaining but for whom we have no sympathy.

The Nation headline writer is, in fact, telling parents who send their children to private schools to shut up and stop moaning about high fees.

Further, in the kicker, “Lo and behold, these fancy learning institutions are now struggling to stay afloat”, he is pouring scorn on private schools, telling them indirectly to stop moaning.

Creative as it may seem, this is a classic example of a biased headline.


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