THE recent rabies case reported in Kuala Sepetang, near Taiping, got the media fraternity here abuzz, with reporters monitoring the situation and others dispatched to the site.
The mother of one of the victims expressed unhappiness when too many people came to her house and asked about the July 4 incident involving her two-year-old dog that attacked her 12-year-old daughter and 11-year-old niece.
The dog, which showed symptoms of the disease, was later confirmed to be infected by the virus and died nine days later. The girls, meanwhile, did not suffer any related illnesses, apart from multiple bite wounds, and have since returned to school. It was noted that the dog showed symptoms of the viral disease five days after the attack, and it was suspected that the wound found on its body (which could explain how it was infected) was inflicted by another dog that could be carrying the virus.
As we fed our readers on updates on the case, we also prayed that the virus would be contained and that it would not claim any life. In Sarawak, four deaths were reported as authorities worked hard to contain the virus.
However, a recent development left a sour taste in my mouth.
Naturally, as the matter is of public interest, a lot of questions were posed by reporters in a WhatsApp group that also included government officers (thank God for technology).
Our curiosity was piqued by a follow-up statement from the Veterinary Services Department on a complaint by a woman bitten by a pet cat, also in Kuala Sepetang, which is within the Matang sub-district that was declared as a rabies-infected area by the Perak state government.
I got excited and made the mistake of not reading thoroughly before posting my questions. I immediately apologised when pointed out that one of them had already been addressed in an earlier reply.
However, it didn’t change the fact that the other questions were left unanswered.
The questions were replied with snide remarks while I was expecting enlightenment on the case.
Contrary to popular belief, reporters don’t ask questions just for the sake of asking.
Of course, working in this line, we are fully aware of the risks we face and there were instances where journalists faced the wrath of unhappy readers or disgruntled quarters as the questions were not to their liking — with some of these recorded on video. It’s all part of the job.
A case in point was when a former minister, known for his cool approach when dealing with the press, blew his top when asked on the alleged corruption in a government-linked company.
I remember coming back from an assignment and had failed to get an answer from him on an issue (I can’t recall the issue).
The admonition I got from former news editor, the late Yusri Azmin (I was serving in a different newspaper then), got me questioning my existence in this industry.
I told him that I got nothing more than a “no comment” and that the former minister dismissed the matter saying that he had “already spoken about it”.
“Even if I have to be rude, I will still ask the question if that can get me a story,” were Yusri’s words, which I remember clearly, as if it was only yesterday.
He didn’t have to say much to make me understand that it was my responsibility to get the stories and prepare myself with background information beforehand.
Journalists are subjected to work-related stress daily as revealed in many surveys. While getting “likes” on online stories is nice, the convenience of having everything at our fingertips does come with a price.
Undesirable comments may be enough to break our spirit if we let them.
The last thing we want is to be ridiculed by the very thing that is basically the essence of our job — asking questions.
In an age where communication is done through text messages, sometimes, the slightest hint of mockery is enough to fuel an argument.
The recent rabies case reminded me of just that.
There was not a single question that laid blame for the outbreak on the department, which led to the sub-district of Matang being declared as a rabies-infected area.
A polite “we will check on it” or “we will update you on that” would suffice.
Don’t shoot the messenger.
Sure, “shooting” is an easy way to treat an unfavourable question, but it is not enough to kill our curiosity and will just make us more determined to get answers.
Telling us that our questions are insignificant does not make a story. Information does. You may not be happy, you may even hate us, but that’s our job and we have to do it.
Nuradzimmah Daim is NST Perak bureau chief. A fan of rock music and a coffee addict, she loves talking to people but appreciates alone time by doing yoga or reading thriller novels. She can be reached via sitinur@nstp.com.my