My most creative, intelligent and insightful thinking occurs during Fajr prayer. Fajr prayer is characterized by intimidate moments with Allah (SWT). I shall never sacrifice these moments, although I may occasionally pray in a mosque I shall always pray Fajr prayer in my home. A well respected, and acknowledged, Hadith provides the guidance that praying at home for women is preferred. It is quoted somewhere in this massive blog. I should do a collection of important Hadiths, but later baby, later.
(Later baby: a saying from the fifty shades of grey trilogy, that has now become a cute way of saying goodbye to someone) I was not saying goodbye to you, just saying that an assemblage of Hadiths shall be made available at a later time on this blog.
A Hadith is a collection of traditions containing sayings of the prophet Muhammad which, with accounts of his daily practice (the Sunna), constitute the major source of guidance for Muslims apart from the Koran. (Or Quran, the Holy Book)
One morning during Fajr prayer, thinking of my role in my present existence it occurred to be that I am an investigative journalist. They are the last of a dying bred.
We shall now explore two concepts. Dying breed and investigative journalist. We do that to ensure that we are on the same page. (Also explored in a prior blog)
The last of a dying breed is someone or something that is rare or nearly extinct. It can also mean someone who does something very few people do. Google helpfully tells one how to be a rare person:
1. To cultivate rareness, all you have to do is remain authentic.
2. Uplift others and you’ll truly stand out.
3. Impress others by staying humble.
4. Stay calm under pressure to show off your incredible resilience.
WOW – It looks like I am a rare person. Well except staying humble – hahaha. Calm has always been a BIG problem but the Islamic Faith is teaching me patience.
Me: Patience was never one of my virtues,
Alter Ego: Is that changing.
Me: Thankfully yes. It is the Islamic Faith that is making the difference. Slowly I am becoming more patient. It is a gift – patience is a gift. Great things can be accomplished if one is patient. I do admit that the horrific conditions in Gaza are causing me to become impatient. I need to trust in Allah (SWT). Do pity all compassionate people and empathetic people who are not of the Islamic Faith.
OOPS, sorry I got off topic. Faithful readers will not be surprised at this. Wikipedia has yet again come to the rescue.
Investigative journalism is a form of journalism in which reporters deeply investigate a single topic of interest, such as serious crimes, racial injustice, political corruption, or corporate wrongdoing. An investigative journalist may spend months or years researching and preparing a report. Practitioners sometimes use the terms “watchdog reporting” or “accountability reporting” Most investigative journalism has traditionally been conducted by newspapers, wire services, and freelance journalists. With the decline in income through advertising, many traditional news services have struggled to fund investigative journalism, due to it being very time-consuming and expensive. “
In its usual fashion Wikipedia tells you more than you really want to know, and much more for our purposes but this is important.
University of Missouri journalism professor Steve Weinberg defined investigative journalism as: “Reporting, through one’s own initiative and work product, matters of importance to readers, viewers, or listeners.”[1] In many cases, the subjects of the reporting wish the matters under scrutiny to remain undisclosed.
The history is rather interesting.
The outlook for investigative journalism in the United States was improved by the 1960s with the Freedom of Information Act and New York Times Co. v. Sullivan. The invention of the photocopier also offered an assistive tool of whistleblowers.
Proof of it being a dying breed is confirmed. “The growth of media conglomerates in the U.S. since the 1980s has been accompanied by massive cuts in the budgets for investigative journalism. A 2002 study concluded “that investigative journalism has all but disappeared from the nation’s commercial airwaves.”
Examples of investigative journalism are cited. As well as this, rather frightening entry.
“Video of the 2010 Logan Symposium at University of California Berkeley‘s “Consequences of Investigative Reporting” panel, in which reporters from the Sahara Reporters, the Medill Innocence Project at Northwestern, The Washington Post, The Las Vegas Review-Journal, and The El Paso Times talk about the dangers investigative reporters face; their experiences range from threat to life and limb for reporting on corruption in Africa, to subpoenas aimed at a journalism professor and his students for attempting to bring to light a miscarriage of justice; a Pulitzer Prize winner describes reporting on national security as her sources face internal inquisitions; a veteran reporter in Las Vegas talks about taking on casino moguls and organized crime; while a reporter covering the Mexican border explains how she has survived the violent reality of the undeclared war on our border.”
Oops Again. My blog publishes my investigative journalist. I have investigated several single topics of interest during my almost eight years of writing this blog. I have the means, the methods and the opportunity to spend hours, days and sometimes months investigating situations and conditions of interest. I also seem to be, in a very strange way, at the right place, at the right time, under the strangest of circumstances. Come to think of it, there have been countless conditions and situations.
Some examples shall follow, there are many. There I was in San Francisco during the beginning days, nights, months and years of the pandemic. I had much time on my hands, in almost total seclusion. I was not burdened by stress as my retirement income kept pouring in. I was clear headed, my immune system was working. I have a scientific mind, looked only to scientists of credentials to explore and write about what was going on at the time. Without hesitation was one of the very first to get vaccinated. My advanced age ensured I was one of the first eligible for the vaccine. I was living in affluent Marin County, with excellent medical care and an ample supply of vaccines. I understood the science, saw the anti-vax people as uninformed, uneducated, silly alarmists. Hopefully my writings put many people at ease, allowing for the numbers of vaccinated to multiply. Perhaps not, but I did try and in the process put my mind at ease and gave my life meaning. Maybe it did no help, but it did not hurt. Hahaha.
Sometimes it is useful or helpful to do or have something. Some examples: 1) it never hurts to check the flight departure time before you leave for the airport 2) it doesn’t hurt to have money when you want to run for office.
Thinking of being in Marin, at the time of the release of the vaccine made me think of this saying: I made out like a bandit.
To make outline a bandit, is a US idiom usually meaning to get a lot of something for free or to make a large profit. Another way to explain this is to say a person gets more than what they expected.
Finally, I shall return to the topic at hand, investigative journalism, the dangers that may be encountered by individuals who taken that task. Unlike the journalists who placed their life jeopardy, my life was not put at risk by my pandemic investigative journalism. In fact, my knowledge kept me safe. I ventured from my apartment once a week. My taxi driver escorted me to the grocery store, purchased my groceries for the week. I remained in my apartment, not even venturing out to take out the garbage until he arrived a week later. I had no dog to walk, which were carriers of the virus, never acknowledged because of the US worship of dogs.
I received all of my booster shots. I was living in Abu Dhabi for five months – the safest place in the world for avoiding the coronavirus at the time. One had to prove they were vaccinated to go to the Yas Mall, a vast shopping center. Vaccination and a current PCR test. I could paper an entire wall with the results of my pcr tests during my days in Abu Dhabi. .
However, my life was in jeopardy, when living in the UAE. It was there that my investigative journalism put my life in danger as I slowly and methodically learned of the vast under belly of corruption that exists. There is nothing resembling independent journalism there – the media is often owned by the Royal Family or their underlings. When in the safety of Canada told all, got hundreds of views on that day. However, went from 267 viewers in the UAE to only 3. My blog was banned. Perhaps at some time in the future I shall write about it. But there are larger concerns – need I remind you of Palestine?
There are concerns closer to my new home as well. I am next door to the Prophet’s Mosque where absolute chaos controls. More about that later.
There is perfect order in this, my Hotel Oberio Refugee Camp. I was moved to another room which occasioned text exchanges with two men.
Me: I am being moved to another room. But I get to keep my heater and the DVD player. I guess they are turning my room into a museum???? Hahaha
Neither of the guys responded, typical male behavior. The Islamic Faith is so incredibly wise – teaching us that relationships are only temporary. There will always being other fish in the sea, a phrase usually used in a so-called romantic relationship. If you tell someone that there are plenty more fish in the sea, you are comforting them by saying that although their relationship with someone has failed, there are many other people they can have relationships with.
I do not have, nor will I ever have, a ‘romantic’ relationship with either of these two Muslim men. But if they are too busy for me, I shall find someone else who has the time to answer my texts, to be there for me etc etc. Or as someone said: Life is like an ocean, filled with plenty of fish for everyone.
It is time for Tales from the Breakfast Bar. I have a new found responsibility, I am the porridge taster. Porridge, simple gruel, should be easy to cook, but despite there being fifty chefs, and a vast level of management over them- the porridge is often runny. I taste it, and if not approved, it is returned to the vast kitchen. One of the staff, whose nickname is MASH put the matter into perspective.
He: You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to make porridge.
Me: That is so funny!! I forgot that saying, I must put it in my blog.
He: Go right ahead.
If you say that it does not take a rocket scientist to do something, you mean that you do not have to be clever to do it. It means that something is not very difficult to do or to understand.
I have volunteered to be the porridge chef. I am on friendly terms with both the Executive Chef and the Food and Beverage Manager. It might, however, take away from my investigative journalist duties and responsibilities.
Other staff members are getting nicknames. One man made the most glorious concoction of juices, which shall be pictured. It was as tasty as it was beautiful. Of course, there was no liquor in it. I did not miss the booze at all.
The other photograph is my US passport photo. There is a funny story behind that. AK has made the reservations for my Bahrain flight. He needed a photo of my passport for the issuance of the ticket. Made two tries, and it was fuzzy and out of focus, the essential dates were illegible.
Me: Here it is but you cannot see the dates very well.
He: Maybe wipe the back of the phone with a tissue first.
Me: I hate it when you smarter than I am.
He: Nope I’m not I learn from you.
Me: I did it. There!!!!
He: Perfect.
Me: Yeah US!!! What a team.
He: Yessss
