Press Freeedom Poem by Bamukunda Hillary

Press Freedom.
.
Dear son,
When your sister died
On live television coverage
As she interviewed the suicide bomber
She got her freedom
That was her journalistic destination
To inform us with unedited raw news.
I was proud
.
But son,
You were inspired
You walked in her feet
With different face but same badge
All news are advertised
No kintu kidogo No publications
Personalities have excelled only in press
At the mercy of your corruptmaniac hands.
Some news has died in incubation,
As you have treated some information to scrutiny?
Who then knows the truth?
.
My beloved son,
You have dated banks,
And character assassinated everything.
Not even public institutions have failed on your venom.
From glaring grace to grumbling grass.
Great people have fallen,
Developing nations have collapsed,
On stories with honey smeared lies
And fire catching breaking news.
And you shout press freedom?
.
My much needed son,
As you shout blames on social media and dark bloggers.
As you cry of limited police care and comfort.
As you cripple judiciary for admirable press rights.
Why can't you drop partisan journalism?
My son,
You work in the society of the people.
What happened to the press of the people?
Like DJ's and music industry,
We all can't be friends of benefits.
Let the press run free
Be free and press loyal
Your sister will be proud of you.
You too will finally be free
.
.By
BAMUKUNDA HILLARY
©2018