FOR THE HATE OF BROADCAST


I got done with journalism school a month ago. I was in a school which was cool to be associated with but it was not nurturing my talents. It basically emphasises on broadcast journalism and film. Awesome media areas I have decided to overlook. I hate the strict schedules on radio and T.V. i also hate being treated like a pawn in a game of chess. See when you are the ‘talent’ (that’s what you are lowered to) on the screen you have to follow what the director or the producer is barking at you. Not cool at all. The lecturers in my school do not believe print (and digital) exists. The areas I have a passion for. They were grooming me to become a news anchor! Can you believe it? The talent! She actually said with my looks, voice and all I needed just to check on the posture and bang! I am Jeff Koin-Gay or whoever else appears on T.V at prime time. I do believe they are secretly gay. So i stop writing (read thinking) and start living a cool composed life where i have to dress in a sharp suit and drive to the studious everyday to apply makeup. Bull shit. I would die of boredom, rejection and self-pity. 

I remember sitting in my T.V presentation class, my writing pad on my lap staring at it with the concentration of a surgeon in a theatre. Well, she thought I was taking down her advice on how we are facing stiff competition from (insert your favourite anchor here) and how we needed to work harder before the camera and when we are home spent hours before the mirror practising. Still think this thing is not gay? I was writing how X on my left has a nose which looks like an egg-plant. How micro-skirt wearing M is having a blast getting laid by every Tom, Dick and Harry (excuse the cliché) and how the lecturer needs to lose the pot-belly. They were all leads to a good story which is already in the offing. Then my mind slowly came back to the business of the day. Why was she shoving T. V presentation down our throats? Were we that thirsty? Me thinks the industry is already saturated with over-baked presenters out to outdo each other. Our class is half-baked if you may ask me, well, expect me. I have baked myself to the right proportion (is that right?). The T.V stations available in Kenya are less than 20 in number. They already have their news anchors some well past sell-by-date but still good (think that old mzee on citizen every morning with Mwakazi and Jimmy.) They are not thinking of replacing them and even if they did 100 news anchors are too many. I have not graduated yet, and i had to do that T.V thingy before i disappear. I attend the classes when I feel like because I am busy chasing editors trying to get a pitch (Riungu if you are listening) I am also busy doing pieces for Varsity Phunk. A new baby in the print scene which is just over the top. It has one cool publisher @Mwakale who gave me the chance and while at it asked me why was I interested in print and it does not have enough money (very ironical). Well, I want to have a career, not a job. Simple. I am still busy doing graphic design and may be one or two short motion graphics from AfterFX. Most of the time i am actually chasing guys who do not feel like paying for my services, guys who want me to design silly business cards for them. I got bills to pay so i do it and they start dodging me. Assholes {one or two maybe reading this. Mnajijua.}
Yesterday was payday because some underground artiste paid for his CD cover design. So like a jolly good fella I went to school smile plastered on my face for the T.V class. Nothing was going to spoil my day. I was late as usual and she warned me of disturbing the class with my nearly grand entry. I got seated, took out my pad and borrowed a neighbour’s script so that I have an idea what is going on. Soon i was called in front of the camera. I shuffled the few meters walk as if my feet have elephantiasis. I commenced while staring at the gleaming lens. “Good evening and welcome to this edition of Shang T.V news, I am your host Erykko……….Cut! She said. Your neck is bending on one side and your eyes are darting suspiciously, your mouth is twisted as if you are rapping”. I am a poet madam, I nearly said. Nothing was going to spoil my day, so i kept my cool and listened. My idiotic brain cannot stay a minute without asking questions. ‘Why are we doing this, can’t you just teach all this writing phobic creeps how to do creative writing for a change, after all you claim to be a writer, a producer and a creative director of several organisations’. Then it wandered off to Kitty Hawk. That is the name of my Dell laptop. I need to get Kitty Hawk2 who happens to be one cool Mac Air a friend is selling at a cheap price. Now that Dad has refused to finance another laptop when I have another one running I will have to find ways and means. That is the hardest part. ‘Eric….Eric….Eric are you listening? Yeah Madam. “As I have said, you need to …blah…Blah…blah…What the fuck was i doing in that class? I don’t think am going again anytime soon. I am making passionate appeal to anybody who is willing to finance me get that Mac. I’ll be forever grateful. While at it throw an internship, I’ll kiss your hand. 
So right now am exploring several self-publishing platforms like smash words and create-space. Is there one in Kenya? Digital publishing is really exiting me and I have a baby for it.  A cool ka-thing which will be available on P.C, Mac, Nook, IPAD and blackberry. Am still considering android and ovi and hopefully the channels will open. I can not disclose much of it but it is what happens when you fuse craziness, writing and several forms of designing. It is also something which is making me hate TV class more and more.
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