For nearly 20 years, reporter and media entrepreneur John-Allan Namu has been at the forefront of investigative journalism in his native Kenya. Namu, who is the winner of the ICFJ Knight International Journalism Award, delivered the following remarks on Nov. 14 at the Ronald Reagan Building in Washington, DC, at the ICFJ Tribute to Journalists 2024.
Good evening everybody. I can promise I've never been introduced to a crowd like that before. It is very difficult to give a speech for an award that honors your work. I say this not to be trite or modest, but because over my two decades as a journalist, not one of my stories was solely my work. All were also the work of the cameramen and women, the editors, the video editors who helped put my stories together. The news anchors who read my leads, and most importantly, the people I spoke to.
Even my words and style are not entirely my own; I learned how to tell stories from my grandfather, and his daughter, my mother, who taught me how to write my first words and told me spellbinding stories. My strongest motivations are my wife — who's here with me tonight — and my children. All this to say, I don’t stand here under my own power. I am being held up by God and by the strength He gave to so many people, who now pour it into me.
The award I am receiving celebrates journalists who “despite difficult circumstances, produce pioneering work that makes a significant impact in their countries.” I am deeply grateful that my body of work and contributions should be described in such glowing terms. I hope that my work, and the work of Africa Uncensored, continues to live up to this description. To the team at Africa Uncensored, please take these words as compliments to your own work. I merely opened the door for you all to shine.
About those “difficult circumstances:” Our work shines a light on some of the darkest parts of my society—not because I revel in shaming my homeland, but for the opposite reason. Today, in my country, a new generation is saddled with debt they didn’t take on, worn down by corruption, and struggling to make sense of killings and abductions in the wake of nationwide protests. It is our job to tell these stories. It hurts because I know that our eldest son is part of the same generation who tried to write a different story for their country, but so far have been brutally denied. That hurts. But it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as it has for other parents whose children were killed for going out to demand a better future. To all those for whom my work has served as a beacon of hope, thank you for allowing me and the people I’ve worked with to be part of your journey. I will continue to do my utmost to remain credible, factual, honest, and, above all, compassionate.
Finally, I’d like to dedicate this award to my family. Thank you for everything you have done and continue to do to inspire me. To Makena, Muna, Zahra, Tau, and Farai—you truly make every day of my life worthwhile. I love you all and I hope you know this. Lastly, to Mom. We know now that we no longer have as much time as we would have hoped. Mommy, I want you to know that every story you shared with me, every warm hug, every word of encouragement, and every prayer has led me here. Your son is being celebrated by his peers today. I hope I make you proud. I am incredibly proud to be your son and to carry your father’s name. Thank you very much.