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Wars and Words: The Power of the Pen and Freedom of the Press

By Rabhelani Mguni


The power of the pen is the ability to quake the hallways of injustice and greed

This year shall forever hold a special chapter in the history books of the world. I would argue that there's never been a time when the morality of the world has been tried and tested in front of a mirror from which no one could turn away their faces to hide, at least not to this extent. All of us have found ourselves, in one way or the other, grappling with what life means. We've also been tasked with the oldest question of all times: If I was there would I have been a better person?


I have a reverential appreciation for writers and masters of language that I both can and cannot name. Like my religious beliefs, I know I possess some form of respect for them.


This World Press Freedom Day, on which I am writing this, could not come at a better time, as we bear witness to how the modern-day international press force holds the mirror up for humanity to look at the horrors we have inflicted on the world. For a long time the press: writers, columnists, photojournalists, weather reporters, and others of the same line of work, have sounded the loudest alarm about the danger we were slow marching to - the plight of the environment, wars, diseases. The press has oftentimes gone beyond the boundaries of its comfort, in particular investigative journalists, to gift us with insight. Without it, this insight into the dimensions of our world can often enough evade our attention, and to some extent also be hidden because of the chaos such deceit is guilty of.


This year's Press Freedom Day came at a time when, in guilt and embarrassment, the world commemorated the 30th anniversary of the Rwandan genocide against Tutsis. It was a genocide the world was warned of, one where language was the weapon of destruction. It was a mistake we promised to learn from but seem to be failing with the war in Gaza, and yet again we have become deaf to the crumbling Palestinian neighborhoods and the wailing of survivors.


One cannot help but remember Ken Saro-Wiwa's cries and pleas for justice as he faced persecution for daring to disturb the peace of the vultures of the destroyed environment when he fought to preserve the world of his ancestors.

Further, the press's reporting and writing on the subject of the environment has also always been a matter close to the crisis facing humanity, that of tyranny and exploitation for the profit of the few. The excavation of sacred forests in Congo, the construction of the Kariba dam half a century ago, the green colonialism that unknowing African villagers find themselves under, and the persistent bombing of Gaza are products of corporate disregard for nature and the people.


In many Bantu cultures, smoke serves as a form of communication, and I believe the poisoned smoke and dust from blasted rocks from mines and the crushed concrete of crumbling buildings in Gaza have a single message: greed. It is the greed of tyrants, corporate hawks, and other profiteers from wealth rooted in the ground watered by the blood and sweat of the poor and marginalized.


In all this mess one voice has been a constant in offering to humanity the glass to not only behold its beauty but also the ugliness of its heart, one that lusts for more power and wealth by any means necessary. While it varies depending on the source, the press has generally been a brilliant actor in keeping the marital affairs of greed and power out in the open for the audience to know its true nature.


Now we march towards the peril of our ignorance. Now that the dreaded and airbrushed scene in the theatre of our world has arrived, we can only turn with our remorseful eyes, if that can still be found amongst our hearts, and ask the grave of a slain or censored journalist, what can we do to change the script?


We must not forget the courage and heroism of the press in uncovering the truths every single day. The threat to press freedom is present even in nations, even in those who claim democracy is sewn into their national identity. One strand of greedy power is always disturbed and unsettled with the text, the photograph, the video, and the audio that broadcasts the naked emperor. We celebrate and commemorate such power that only the press has mastered.


 

About the Writer

Rabhelani Mguni is a writer and essayist. He is from Bulawayo and lives in Harare due to work. The writer is an undergraduate Gender Studies student at the Nehanda Center for Gender and Cultural Studies at the Great Zimbabwe University. His reading and writing is informed by his interests in social justice, pacifism, romance, history, and society. Some of his works have appeared in such publications like Lolwe, Novelty Fiction Gazette, Kalahari Review, Olongo Africa and Odd Magazine. 

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