*As part of the in-depth research project, one of the requirements of the BA Honours in Journalism and Media Studies degree at Wits University, students are required to write daily blog entries to show the progress of their projects. This year the theme is Yeoville and students have to take on a topic that tells a story that is Yeoville specific.
I’m fine, not the Freaked-out, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional fine. But rather, the I-don’t-know-if I-still-have-a-pulse fine, but it doesn’t matter because EVERYTHING IS JUST FINE.
Started the day by working on my third draft, then went to Yeoville with Lutho to get her remaining footage.
On the taxi ride there we met a guy in the film industry. He inquired about our equipment and where we were shooting. It turns out, he was a Drama For Life student at Wits. We spoke about journalism and how it was close to film. Lutho wants to go into broadcast journalism, I’m still undecided. Lugging camera equipment is not my most favorite thing in the world. Although, hearing taxi commuters converse in French is quite therapeutic, that may be one of my new favorite things to do.
We ended up at Rasta House to meet Lutho’s subject, who was late. People have no respect for time, it irks me especially because we have deadlines to meet. In the meanwhile I started talking to this guy, who raps. He asked me what I do besides school, that was insulting and sad, because outside school I have nothing going for me.
When I asked him what he does besides rapping, he enthusiastically told me that he’s a hustler. (In some ways I’m a hustler too. A hustler of information, but I’m trying to make my job seem way cooler than it is). He specializes in weed. And that was the day I met a dealer. I think I’m ready to die now.
I’m a Christian before I’m a journalist.
I told him I was working on churches in Yeoville and we ended up having a conversation about religion. He believes he’s god. And he said that I am god too. And our parents are mini-gods. The basis of his claim is Genesis 1:27, “God created man in His own image”. I tried to explain it didn’t mean we were god, but it was fruitless. He started telling me about meditation and that we each have a third eye that needs to be unlocked. I lied before, now I’m ready to die. But first I’ll have to pray for him, and share the gospel, because I’m a Christian before I’m a journalist.
When Lutho’s subject eventually arrived, we had to find a studio to film him. We tried the one on Rockey street but it was unavailable. So we have to go back to Yeoville tomorrow, and we’ll have three studios available to choose from. That’s how life works … when you need one studio, none will be available.
Lutho and I reached our limit. At one point when we were walking to catch a taxi, we just couldn’t move anymore. “I’m exhausted Lameez,” the poor thing had to change her plans. She thought she’d be done shooting today. Things could be worse, we still have two days to put things together.
As much as in-depth has made me reconsider my career choice in journalism, I’m certain it’s made me more determined to be one. Seriously, how many people can say they met a dealer and didn’t buy anything?