Reporting

William H. Freivogel, director of the School of Journalism at Southern Illinois University Carbondale and a professor at the Paul Simon Public Policy Institute, returned to East Africa this month. The following is the last of his five posts from the field. See his first, second, third, and fourth posts.

Kenya was the brightest spot on my first trip to Africa a year ago when our State Department-sponsored group traveled from Uganda to Kenya to Ethiopia. Kenya’s economy was booming, the middle class growing and a robust election campaign was underway. The press was freer in Kenya than anywhere we went.

One of the promising journalists I met then was Andrew Kimkemboi, features editor at The Standard, one of the top papers in Nairobi. Andrew, a dapper dresser, was bullish on Kenya’s future. He took me to a downtown restaurant where prosperous office workers ate lunch plates full of steaming meat and fish.  He said that the good times in Kenya were one reason he was planning to vote for the incumbent president, Mwai Kibaki, even though he was from a different tribe.

Andrew changed his mind before the December election and, like many Kenyans, voted for the opposition. He was in the newsroom right after the election when the opposition’s lead suddenly disappeared, apparently from some election officials’ sleight-of-hand.

Practicing journalism in Zimbabwe has become a crime punishable by death.

Last year, my colleague Edward Chikomba learned this the hard way. I still can't believe he's gone -- the jovial spirit, the burly tummy, the camera bag he always wore slung backward over his shoulder. He worked for the country's only TV station, the state-owned Zimbabwe Broadcasting Corporation.

William H. Freivogel, director of the School of Journalism at Southern Illinois University Carbondale and a professor at the Paul Simon Public Policy Institute, returned to East Africa this month. The following is the fourth of his five posts from the field.

See the Kampala group's report of the visit in The Ivory Post.

Frontline World is featuring the Pulitzer Center-sponsored reporting from the Common Language Project as part of a feature highlighting the human consequences of climate change.

A series of multimedia reports show how water stress across the horn of Africa is fueling conflict and threatening ancient ways of life.

William H. Freivogel, director of the School of Journalism at Southern Illinois University Carbondale and a professor at the Paul Simon Public Policy Institute, returned to East Africa this month. The following is the second of his five posts from the field.

BAHIR DAR, Ethiopia - It is Saturday, market day, in this regional capital an hour's plane ride northwest of Addis Ababa. The road from the airport to the university is crowded with farmers walking their goods to market.

As the morning sky lightens, the sound of machetes hacking through thick grass echoes along the lake's coastline. Fishermen, stripped to their underwear in the already stifling heat, are looking for silvery baby fish along the shoreline in defiance of laws against taking them in breeding grounds.

William H. Freivogel, director of the School of Journalism at Southern Illinois University Carbondale and a professor at the Paul Simon Public Policy Institute, returned to East Africa this month. He traveled through Ethiopia and Uganda with journalism colleagues as part of a State Department grant. They conducted workshops with local journalists, government officials and representatives of aid agencies. Freivogel wrote a diary of his observations during the journey.

Still, nearly 700,000 Indian troops are deployed around the state. And there are mounting concerns that if the government does not reduce its presence, frustrations may spark a new cycle of violence.

Credits:

"Kashmir's Uneasy Peace"

On a sun-baked plain four hours' drive south of Kathmandu, the capital, a platoon of Maoist fighters in jungle fatigues is on the move. A cry of "lal salaam!" ("red salute!") pierces the air as the drill instructor orders a halt, and the soldiers make thrusts with their mock-up wooden rifles. Even in the haze of dusk, it is clear there are still two armies in Nepal.

Udalguri, India -- Flanked by mist-bearded foothills, groups of young men play volleyball on a grass clearing, jog around plywood barracks and chop wood. If not for the presence of automatic weapons, the scene could pass for a summer camp .