Checking Cheque Book Journalism
A Touch of Nokoko by Kofi Akumanyi
Considering the frustration and aggravation that the police, the families of the Ripper's victims and the public in general had gone through at the time when the search was on, it naturally made the whole case of priority public interest. To the media this was an opportunity never to be missed. A team of journalists assigned to a story like that has the job to secure all aspects of Sutcliff's life and, of course, with every newspaper zooming in on the same target, some pretty rough tactics were bound to be used.
Thus it was that as hordes of journalists besieged the home of Peter Sutcliff with offers of money for exclusive publication rights to the background stories, the families of the Ripper's victims thought the whole approach overstepped the bounds of decency. Why should Sutcliff's family, armed with fat cheques, laugh all the way to their banks when the man had committed atrocities of such horrendous proportions? Protests to the Queen and the Press Council also elicited some strong criticism and condemnation.
Cheque book journalism may sound strange in the ears of many African journalists because, at least in my own experience, the only link that cheque books (or hard cash) have to do with journalism is whenever the profession s accused of pandering to the interests of politicians and the powerful in the society who could always get their views printed. In a situation like this, the payment of cheques is reversed.
I have never had the opportunity of going out for a story armed with money and I can imagine how an attempt to operate "cheque book journalism" would work out somewhere in Africa.
My editor would give me the instruction not to return to the office without the story even if it meant writing out a cheque.
But what is a big story in Africa? Government budget leaked out before the day it is to be announced? Military take-over and murder of prominent citizens? Intra-political party feuds, bribery and corruption? Hardly stories any journalist would pay a brass farthing for. These have become so commonplace that these days when people hear such stories, or better still, rumours about them, they only shrug or raise their eyebrows questioningly: “so what's new?”
But wait a minute; there just might be one sure source of news which could merit a cheque - sex scandal. People everywhere enjoy reading what politicians and prominent people are up to in their bedrooms or, better still, in other people's bedrooms. The more kinky the sexual exploit of these opinion leaders, the higher it is rated in the opinion polls. But there is one small matter about this kind of attitude towards sex in Africa. Within the complex social structures, different customs and traditions in which polygamy is largely accepted and girlfriends always lurk in the shadow of wives, it would take some doing not to offend national sensibilities by splashing such stories on front pages when important development problems in the country urgently need to be discussed in the paper.
It is with this as the backdrop that I cautiously approached Mr Osimesi whose case had been threatening to disrupt the peace. As the manager of the state consumer goods supply corporation, he had been prosecuted for hatching a deal with one of the women and diverted goods worth thousands of pounds. In the course of the business deals with the woman a little baby was born and wrapped up in secrecy for months because Mr Osimesi's wife is one African woman who does not believe in the “one man, many wives” nonsense.
With my Editor's cheque threatening to burn a hole in my pocket, I went to Mrs Osemesi. Since this is like breaking papers." new ground in the publication area, I was filled with trepidation. "My mission here is very simple, Mrs Osimesi. My paper is highly interested in the rights to your husband's story. But because he is not available right now, you could fill us in on details about your life with him and any other highlights of your marriage" I explained.
"Just hold on a minute... you want me to do what exactly?", the lady looked at me with an obvious shock written on her face.
"It's simple really. All you're required to do is give the story about and surrounding this case exclusively to my paper and you get a cheque for that.”
"You want me to participate in a scheme to expose my private life to the public? Is this what you want me to do?"
"You make it sound, well, very immoral, but if you put your mind to it, you'll realise that it is not a bad deal after all" I said.
"You don't understand, do you? What do you think people would say if I expose our private life to the public?
What would my children say?"
"Nothing if they are told that you also received a handsome cheque for it."
"To tell you the truth, I'm not interested in the story" she said with a finality which left no doubt that the deal had collapsed.
"Mrs Osimesi, I think you are throwing away a chance of a lifetime to make money out of this unfortunate affair. You know this practice is common in Europe and America where stories like yours make those involved famous," I tried one more time.
"I'm going to get very cross with you in a minute" she threatened..
"To be sure the only thing you can cross is the cheque to ensure that it goes into your account and depending on how well the publication comes out, it could lead to bigger things," I pressed on.
"Like what?" she asked.
"Hollywood, you know, films . . . the film rights could earn you much more. Just think about that!"
"Get out of my house before you become subject for an advertisement for public consumption in the local papers"
As I walked out of the house with the cheque still in my pocket, I realised that the day is still far away when cheque book journalism would hit the headlines in Africa.
