Occupational Safety

Being a journalist has some distinct occupational hazards. These seem to be magnified in a foreign country. I’m not talking about threats, muzzling of the press, or operating illegally – although those are definitely concerns. I am talking about how whenever you talk to someone, you make friends.

It doesn’t matter if you want them or not.

While working for the university press I had to interview an engineering student about a project he was working on. He asked me to dinner, the next week a movie, and then to his parents place – I politely declined. He eventually stopped calling.

In Uganda it is a thousand times worse. Most of us girls have a rule about handing our phone numbers to strange men – we don’t do it. However, when you are a journalist, your number is on your card. Good news to follow up stories, bad news if those stories involve men.

The head of a fairly high-ranking Ministry of Health department calls to see how I am (and invites me to his village), the subject of an aid story has asked me to dinner, and now I am starting to fear handing out my business card.