The Journalizantine Dilemma: Day 40

Day 40: May 5, 2020
Global cases: 3,724,518; Deaths: 258,027
Egypt cases: 7,201; Deaths: 452

Neda Mohamed El Taher
Multimedia Journalism junior

Being a journalist during quarantine has its different taste, since I am developing my skills on the wrong stories.

I realized that when you are working a certain job, you start to apply your job environment on everything around you. So, if you are a camera man, you see everything through camera angles with your eyes. If you are an engineer, you see the mechanism and system operation of every object.

I decided to be a journalist and investigate my own family during our sitting down for iftar today.

For example, I noticed today that my mother reached for the tamr hendy (tamarind), and not the qamar al din (apricot nectar). Both are staple Ramadan drinks, but I started to get suspicious. Something is fishy.

Putting my journalist glasses on, I remembered my mother someday, somewhere, last Ramadan stating that she prefers qamar al din over tamr hendy. So I started to implement the 5 W’s and H technique to find the truth.

What actually is her preference?
When did she change her preference?
Why did she change her mind?
How can she make American GREAT AG….. I think that was for someone else.

I decided to take a step forward and find out the truth behind this kind of decision. However, I needed to pick the right time, where my mother was not fully aware that I am interrogating her. This way I am ensuring the truth to come out while she is not concentrating.

So, I decided to start asking her questions while she is talking to my sister on the phone. I felt like it is the perfect timing for quick answers. I then asked her the most indirect question for her to guide me through my interview. The first question was:

What is the first thing that comes to your mind when you hear the word tamr hendy.

“What…” she asked.

I felt the importance of this answer. Such a short answer that makes me feel like she is hiding something from me, so I decided to ask further questions. I needed that push that would get her to tell me the reason behind the change in Ramadan juice preferences.

“Neda, stop …” she said.

I then saw what any journalist would not want to see. The. Mother’s. Death. Stare.

For The Caravan‘s previous diary entries in Arabic and English go to our COVID-19 Special Coverage page.

As a journalist, I am obligated to follow the interviewers request in not wanting to answer the questions. At that moment, I felt like it was best to go by protocol and leave my mom be.

This kind of shift is delaying my learning process since I had been able to develop my skills as a journalist on campus. Journalism was helping the way I think, the way I understand things, and the way I see things from different angles.

At least I was able to ask questions that had answers. Now, I am focusing on the wrong subject, asking the wrong questions.

The issue is not in the questions I ask, it is in how serious I take these questions. I start to actually start writing all the questions and the angles I may want to take find the answer to these topics.

I guess I will just have to get to the bottom of my mom’s qamar al din mystery through my brother.