When television is hard to bear
My hand wanders over the remote control and I wonder whether I should.
I finally go from the Documentary channel to the international news Channel. The headlines blur before my eyes starting with the voice of the newscaster which sounds reassuring at first and then her voice tells me the next news is not going to be great.
Having being a newscaster myself, I understand voice register; code-switching associated with going from a pleasant sports story to tragic news. I know what it takes to wipe off that smile and become sober while dropping your gavel and returning to a lower voice register to deliver an unwholesome story. The Newscaster’s eyes dim.
Coup in Turkey, war in Syria, a woman stabbed in Australia, riots on the streets of London, a bomb blast in Afghanistan, Pakistan, Ankara, ISIS kills two in Tunisia, Boko haram attacks a mosque in Nigeria, and then Saudi Arabia. These stories have become a daily staple so I hesitated before I went to the international News.
A smile plays on the face of the newscaster, some light returns and she announces that Serena Williams has won the women’s edition of Wimbledon 2016. Her full smile returns as she reels off Tennis, Rio Olympics and the photographer whose son with Down-syndrome has become an internet sensation because his father has photographed him in many flying poses. Gorgeous, unforgettable pictures! We celebrate this flying child that tells us we can conquer anything, soar high become whatever we want to be.
I eat my dinner quietly and the pictures on TV return to a blur, the voices a whirl but my heart is with the little boy from Syria (Omran Daqneesh) whose blood stained head outraged the world and showed the terrible things that happen when nations choose to go to war. At the top of the next hour, I hear the boy’s elder brother; 10 years old had died from his injuries. As I move to shut the TV up, I remember the six year old boy,(Aylan Kurdi) red cap, black jeans and a happy T-shirt, face down in the waters of Europe, drowned as he and his family escaped war torn Syria. The dangerous immigrant journeys that have now become commonplace.
Our minds have grown accustomed to thousands of immigrants drowning, dying at refugee camps, lost, rudderless, and homeless. I sit in the comfort of my home, and wonder how safe the rest of us are as we watch the trauma, the tragedies of the world. TV has become unbearable to watch and Entertainment on TV is now fleeting as we all scramble to the Remote control to find out what new threats surround us. We check to see which new mad men and women are bringing us grief.
In the middle of the night, I sit awake as my mind wonders and searches for the answers to the meaninglessness around us. I ponder in the darkest of nights. Who started the Syrian war? What do evil people gain?
The bus driver in France who killed people as he drove around indiscriminately, killing women, children and men, what was on his mind? Gunmen who shoot everyone in sight, what are their plans? Why did no one pay attention when they were stockpiling guns?
The police in America and the #Black lives Matter movement, where are we headed? We created TV for information and Entertainment now it has become a place for bad news, sad news and a party for how dangerous the world is? It has become the place where unstable persons know they would be propagated, so they first give a speech on the internet, and then they kill 30 people in a shooting spree and turn the guns on themselves. Afterwards news networks capture their sick internet speech and we are forced to see the pictures of these mad men and hear their erratic voice.
As newscasters ten years ago, we were upbeat. We worried about our public perception, tilted our geles jauntily and wore red lipstick. Our opening lines were important to set the tone, our voice tenor, our confidence, our flawless make-up. We made eye contact with the Nation, closed the news with the shuffle of our papers and wished our audience well with a smile, a nod, a warm gaze. The number of tragic news was limited and we smiled a lot to open and close the news.
This is certainly not a terrific time to be a newscaster, harbingers of bad news, more bad news and sad news. No matter your gorgeousness, your stylish gele, the flick of your nice hairstyle, your dapper suit and your confident smile, your voice trails in the face of Syria, Turkey, North East of Nigeria. Yet you are expected to be confident. Hard work!
I salute those in the frontline of broadcasting, Newscasters the world over, our burden bearers. Remember to take care of your mind and your bodies.
I remember reading about an anchorperson who after reporting 9/11 suffered severe disturbances from the images she saw on ground and the stories she had to read over and over again until she was numb. Watching TV is becoming unbearable please spare a thought for those who have to live through the images daily, reporters, newscasters, and news producers…
Eugenia Abu