To Journalists Compromising

Walking here and there, Scrounging for messages of Care, Journalists of the day. Standing by at door or gate Spirited, to interrogate the great. A long-serving microphone, Miking words from those interviewed, And an esteemed bagged camcorder on the shoulder; Always await eventual days So they’d pace with grace But, their presentations tremble under status’ feet Whereto their integrity doth greet. Their job hence counts slackness of Justice: That if they are to question a poor fellow, They’ll do it diligently till he’s zero But if they are to question a rich man, Minister or president in particular, The ‘eye-box’ is covered with red cloth, Their journals closed, And their inkers halt; They’ll compromise till he’s out of any cases. Sorry They are! Turning a blind eye to the rich’s injustices And giving a bright eye to the poor’s… Yellow Journalism eke in Africa?