Being taught what its like to be trained..

We’re being taught how to write, by professionals who teach us what cannot be taught, in theory, to train us and give us perspective on the treacherous journey to become a journalist. We are told of what the ‘real – life’ situation comprises of, warned of their evils, familiarised with the elements and made aware of the threats. What should be done, what is taboo and some mandates, are pre-defined in an attempt to save those hands from the flame, alas, all in vain.

Defying every principal brick that puts holds these teachers together we’re being prepared to walk the plank, one suspended from a faulty establishment in the first place. It is not the rules lay down or the regulations put forth, but the underestimation of their roles. The power to be able to have a say in the formation of a hand full of student’s perspectives; struggles and flickers until it fades into the oblivion.

We’re corrected till we we’re their product, which over time is altered till we are our employers and finally in the irrevocable attempt to find ourselves, we fall prey to momentary voracity and succumb to the book. God helps those who help themselves, while, they help those who don’t need to help.