Jemima Ngode, CHRP (K) Group HR Manager, Radio Africa Group
The Camera Goes Off. The Images Don’t.
A letter of gratitude, solidarity, and gentle encouragement to Kenya’s media fraternity — and an invitation to every newsroom and HR leader to walk alongside the people who carry our nation’s hardest stories.
There is a moment, somewhere between the live broadcast and the drive home, that most of us never see. The microphone is packed away. The camera is back in its case. The deadline has been met, the editor is satisfied, the story filed. And the journalist — the one who held it together on air, who found the words when there were none, who pointed the lens at grief so a nation could understand — is alone with everything they witnessed.
That moment is what I want to write about today. Not with alarm. Not with accusation. But with deep, genuine gratitude — and a quiet, heartfelt invitation.
On May 28, 2025, Kenya woke to the devastating news of a fire at Utumishi Girls Academy in Gilgil, Nakuru County. Sixteen young girls lost their lives. Over seventy others were injured. Families gathered outside school gates in the dark, hearts suspended between hope and the unbearable. It was the kind of news that fractures something in you, no matter who you are.
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“They had dreams. They had plans. They had people who loved them beyond measure. To every family walking through this grief — your pain is seen, your children are remembered, and grace is sufficient even when words fall short.”
In loving memory of the 16 students of Utumishi Girls Academy · May 28, 2025
And yet, even as families were still searching for their children, Kenya’s journalists were already there. Cameras raised. Notebooks open. Voices steady. Doing what they have always done — bearing witness so the rest of us do not have to look away.
I want to say something to them directly, from one human being to another: thank you. What you do is not just a job. It is a form of service. And it costs something.
Because the journalists who covered Utumishi are not simply professionals processing information. They are mothers and fathers who dropped their own children at school that same morning. They are brothers and sisters whose hearts quietly broke behind the camera. They are people who absorbed a scene of unimaginable loss — the smell of smoke, the sound of a parent’s grief — and still delivered the story with the calm and care that public service demands.
“Journalism is an act of courage. Covering tragedy repeatedly, professionally, and with humanity is one of the most quietly demanding things a person can do.”
— The Author
There is a well-documented phenomenon in psychology called secondary traumatic stress — sometimes called vicarious trauma. It describes what happens when a person is repeatedly exposed to the trauma of others, absorbing it through the work of witnessing, recording, and communicating. It is common among journalists, first responders, social workers, and healthcare workers. It does not mean someone is fragile. It means they are human.
The symptoms are quiet at first: difficulty sleeping, replaying images, a growing heaviness that does not lift after the weekend, a gradual emotional numbness that can look, from the outside, like professionalism. In Kenya’s media industry — where the pace is relentless and the culture rightly prizes resilience — these signs can go unnoticed for a long time, by colleagues and by the journalists themselves.
This is not a criticism of newsrooms. It is simply an observation about an industry-wide gap that many sectors — medicine, emergency services, the military — are only now beginning to take seriously. And it is an opportunity. A genuine, hopeful opportunity for media organisations and HR professionals to lead.
Practical Starting Points — An Invitation to Newsrooms & HR Teams
- Consider introducing structured post-assignment conversations after major trauma coverage — not as a formal review, but as a human check-in. Something as simple as “How are you carrying this?” can open a door that needed opening.
- Explore partnerships with accredited mental health professionals and Employee Assistance Programmes, so that when a journalist needs support, the pathway is already clear, trusted, and stigma-free.
- Think about peer support — colleagues who are trained to recognise the early signs of burnout and vicarious trauma, and who can walk alongside a team member before things become a crisis.
- Where possible, consider rotation policies on high-trauma beats. No individual should carry the weight of covering conflict, disaster, or child welfare indefinitely without relief and support.
- Encourage editors and desk managers to model openness — when leaders speak honestly about the emotional weight of the work, it gives everyone else permission to do the same.
- Build cross-sector collaborations: media houses, HR bodies, mental health organisations, and professional associations can achieve far more together than any one organisation can alone.
As HR professionals and people leaders, we sometimes speak in the language of systems and policies — and rightly so. But underneath every policy is a person. And the people in Kenya’s newsrooms deserve the same quality of care and support that we advocate for in every other sector.
Mental Health Awareness Month has been a beautiful season of conversation. It has given us permission to say out loud what many of us have always felt: that wellbeing is not a soft topic. It is a leadership responsibility. It is an organisational investment. And it is, at its most fundamental level, just one human being caring about another.
The work does not end when May does. Real change happens in the ordinary moments — the Wednesday afternoon check-in, the quiet conversation after a difficult assignment, the manager who notices a team member going quiet and chooses to ask rather than assume. Those moments, multiplied across a newsroom, across an industry, can shift a culture entirely.
So to Kenya’s media fraternity — to the reporters, anchors, camera operators, producers, editors, and everyone who makes the story possible — this is written in admiration and solidarity. You carry more than most people know. You deserve support that matches the weight of what you carry.
And to every HR leader, every editor, every media organisation reading this — the door is already open. The conversation has already started. All that remains is to walk through it together.
They told our stories with dignity. Let us hold theirs with the same care.
Jemima Ngode, CHRP (K) Group HR Manager, Radio Africa Group
