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Abstract

German

Investigative journalism that aims to prise out information that the state or certain businesses want to keep undisclosed has been unthinkable under many postcolonial African regimes. However, since the promulgation of democratic constitutions, a generation of ambitious investigative journalists has grown up in Africa. In order to show how journalism has changed, the paper brings Anas Aremeyaw Anas's activities into focus. Anas's single-minded mission to bring justice has targeted organisations involved in human trafficking, smuggling, and forced labour in West African countries since 2010. Although his team's way of gathering information raises moral concerns about undercover journalism, their efforts illustrate that human trafficking is widespread among the countries of West and Central Africa. Therefore, the author suggests that both the AU and ECOWAS must create a more stable legal environment for investigative journalists, as their reports can help these institutions and national governments protect human rights.

Keywords

Africa Ghana journalism journalists human rights trafficking in human beings forced labour sexual slavery organized crime Afrika Menschenrechtsschutz Journalismus Journalisten Menschenrechte Menschenhandel Zwangsarbeit Zwangsprostitution Organisierte Kriminalität

Globally, investigative journalism is one of the ingredients of good governance. It strengthens the watchdog function of media to create public awareness, draw attention to injustices, and thereby mobilise on behalf of the rule of law against abuse of political and economic power. Such activities render investigative journalists a nuisance in the eyes of those who prefer that their activities remain unscrutinised and outside the public realm. However, investigative journalists are repressed and, at times, live very dangerously in Africa. The environment is generally not conducive to investigative journalism there. But despite self-censorship, self-exile, and a high rate of attrition, a number of African investigative journalists do their best to remain ethical and investigative. Examples include investigative journalism at Namibia's Insight and The Namibian, Kenya's Daily Nation, and the Investigative Unit at South Africa's Sunday Times and Mail & Guardian, to mention only a few. Media have become partly independent in many African countries since decolonisation, but carrying out investigative journalism is still extremely risky in most countries on the continent – especially for independent or private media outlets. The primary and most visible cost is violence against the journalists and destruction of their equipment or their work premises. “Violence” can include arrest, imprisonment, and torture.

The Challenges and Risks of Investigative Journalism

In the 1990s, the media in Africa were characterised initially by their spontaneous liberalisation and then by the regulation of the mediatised scenery. Currently, journalism is significantly marked by the breakthrough of digital technology and the mobile phone. Capitant and Frère (2011: 28) argue that 50 years after independence, relatively distinct dynamics have evolved between English and French African media. Anglophone Africa is characterised by the presence of powerful press groups managing several newspapers, journals, radio stations, or even television channels. The media in Francophone Africa often evince rather weakly structured, unipersonal companies that rely on only one branch of media. Capitant and Frère also claim that

the frame of the actual press of the previous French colonies shows the traits of journalism “à la française,” which results in the dominance of opinion journalism – namely, a weak distinction between the related facts and comments, and a predisposition of the journalists to see their journalism as a public service which the state should recognise. (2011: 29)

Although there is a “wind of change” blowing through Africa with regard to the promotion of independent and pluralistic media, Robert Martin's observation still holds true:

Various forms of control have been practised since the end of the colonial era. These range, in the case of newspapers, from direct state ownership (Tanzania), to state ownership through an intermediary (Zimbabwe), to harassment and intimidation directed at privately owned publications (Kenya). (1992: 336)

But despite control and regulations, mass media have a particular role to play related to their commitment to speak freely and courageously about the national and regional conditions and at the same time to inform and mobilise the people vis-à-vis their rights and obligations (Martin 1992: 336). Consequently, investigative journalism can contribute to the development of a democratic and enquiring culture and to greater transparency in decision making. Therefore, a legal system which ensures that journalists are able to work free from governmental interference is essential. However, the practice has shown rather contrary examples of undercover journalists struggling to get the story in an “anti-media” atmosphere.

Mudhai (2007: 536) mentions Mozambique's Carlos Cardoso as an example: He was investigating a USD 14 million banking scandal reportedly linked to Nyimpine Chissano, the son of the president of Mozambique at the time, Joaquim Chissano, who was suspected of being the person behind the crime. Cardoso, editor-in-chief of Metical, a popular daily newspaper distributed by fax, had worked as an investigative journalist and was murdered in cold blood, gunned down on the street in 2000. The Committee to Protect Journalism (CPJ) raised concerns about the investigation of his assassination. In particular, it appeared that investigators had not examined the possibility that Cardoso's murder was linked in some way to the journalistic investigations he was working on at the time of his death (Sorokobi 2002). Cardoso used his contacts in the Mozambique Liberation Front's (FRELIMO) socialist old guard to report on widespread corruption and abuses of power. Eventually, Cardoso and other critics of the FRELIMO government began to charge that the size of the legal economy could not account for Maputo's banking and real estate boom; they suspected the government of money laundering, drug trafficking, and other illegal pursuits (Sorokobi 2002). The investigations against the government showed that Cardoso was a unique figure in Mozambican journalism. As a former government official stated,

He was a reference point in our society, […] and not just for the range of issues that he took on, but also for his creativity and the force of his reasoning. Those who killed him have also killed the sense of independence of the press. (Sorokobi 2002)

Cardoso forced Mozambique to consider the possibility that its growth was being driven not by sound economic policy, but by drug trafficking and money laundering, and that the benefits of the growth were largely limited to a tiny elite.

However, Cardoso's murder is not an isolated incident. The African journalists who dare report the truth are targeted by gangsters and even governmental authorities. Attacks, threats, torture, and censure are familiar to them. But they continue to conduct their investigations. For instance, Kenya's John Githongo worked within a risky atmosphere in the realm of business, even dealing with governmental authorities, in order to dig out controversial information that he felt the public should be aware of. According to him, “corruption in Kenya is worse than ever” (Mail & Guardian Africa 2015). In 2002 Githongo was appointed “anti-corruption czar” by then-president Mwai Kibaki, but three years later Githongo fled for his life after uncovering a USD 770 million security-procurement scam known as Anglo Leasing. Githongo also investigated the controversial tender behind the USD 13.5 billion Mombasa–Nairobi railway line, a huge infrastructure project seen as essential to Kenya's economic growth. Based on the information he gathered, he suspects that the railway was “from the very beginning […] engineered as a corrupt project” (Mail & Guardian Africa 2015).

Both Cardoso and Githongo had to contend with restrictive laws, mainly on national security, official secrets, criminal and civil defamation, and privacy and accreditation. The greatest challenge faced by undercover journalists in Africa nowadays are laws relating to access to information that is in the public interest and the use of such information when it is obtained by investigative means. Mudhai (2007: 537) discusses the case of Kenya's Sunday Standard, which in 2003 published confessions of suspects in the alleged assassination of a political scientist who wrote a controversial section of a sensitive draft constitution. Instead of pursuing the suspects, some of whom the paper traced back to neighbouring Tanzania, the state charged the paper's managing director and a police officer with theft of a police videotape containing the confessions.

Investigative journalists in Africa are forced to work in a dangerous atmosphere, and it is frequently difficult for them to obtain information. John Grobler, a veteran undercover journalist who works independently out of Namibia's capital, Windhoek, stresses the need for sources aside from the Internet:

The public resources including the Internet do only half of the job. However, the web has made it extremely easy to contact someone from Dubai or Antwerp, while it would have cost a fortune earlier. Here papers are small and do not have enormous budgets, but Internet has definitely flattened the difficulties. Investigative journalism demands a certain level of persistence and a nose for the stories […] [I]n general, the first leads arrive from human informers, you try to deal with them in depth by verifying the public documents, you search for connections, you turn back to the informers or find new ones. (Serino 2010: 2)

Fortunately, some continent-wide initiatives have already been institutionalised to enhance the work of investigative journalism in Africa. For instance, Global Witness concentrates on undercover investigations and painstaking financial research. They use many techniques to gather evidence,

including interviews, secret filming, photography, document research, and often just dogged physical presence – their investigators sometimes spend days counting logging trucks that cross borders and checkpoints to monitor illegal timber trades. (Global Witness n.d.)

Partnering with Global Witness, Afrileaks aims to help to train a new generation of journalists about how to safely use leaked material. Launched in 2015, it is designed to securely connect whistle-blowers with media organisations across Africa, and it is the first of its kind to provide ongoing technical training in how to “verify and investigate the quality of leaks” (Cummings 2015). The main motivation behind Afrileaks is the belief that many journalists across Africa lack investigative skills, and often have little understanding of the dangers they could face in investigating leaks. The increasing integration of investigative journalism into African media is shown by the fact that South Africa's Mail & Guardian, Botswana's Guardian newspaper, The Zimbabwean, and Mozambique's Verdade have already signed up to the initiative by sharing documents with other journalists and participating in the investigations.

Leigh Baldwin, an investigative journalist at Global Witness, praises the sensitivity of Afrileaks to censorship and local history:

Too often, corruption and human rights violations go unreported in Africa because of the risks faced by sources. By connecting leakers directly with trusted partners, Afrileaks provides a way for local and international journalists to work together to expose abuses and get important stories out. (Cummings 2015)

This is what differentiates Afrileaks from the internationally known Wikileaks, as the latter does not publish any information itself, but simply acts as a facilitator to enable whistle-blowers to send files to the site securely and nominates the media organisation they want to receive the leaks. Those whistle-blowers can choose to remain anonymous, or continue to be part of the subsequent investigation.

Last but not least, the Norbert Zongo National Press Centre (Centre Norbert Zongo, CENOZO), based in Burkina Faso, aims to promote investigative journalism in the field of corruption, bad governance, organised crime, and human rights violations in West Africa. In the framework of CENOZO, journalists collaborate to popularise a positive image of journalism in the region; their goal is to be able to carry out their work under professional, secure, and efficient circumstances (Bazié 2015). The foundation of CENOZO reaffirms the risky atmosphere in which undercover journalism takes place in Africa. Journalists who contribute to the work of CENOZO agree that those working in journalism in Africa face problems getting access to information, such as intimidation and a lack of financial resources (Bazié 2015).

By taking all these dangers and pitfalls into consideration, the international community has already recognised the efforts of African investigative journalists. As noted by Veronic Wright, regional justice advisor for West and Central Africa of the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC),

UNODC considers investigative journalism as an important component in the fight against corruption, and through its Sahel Programme, supports both the implementation of the UN Convention against Corruption (UNCAC) and non-state actors such as journalists. (UNODC n.d.)

UNODC supports investigative journalism as an effective preventive measure through Article 13 of the UNCAC, which calls for governments to

take appropriate measures to promote the active participation of individuals and private entities in the prevention of and the fight against corruption and to raise public awareness regarding the existence, causes and gravity of and the threat posed by corruption.

Along these lines, UNODC has a resource tool for governments and journalists, referred to as “reporting on corruption,” which covers a wide range of subjects, including the protection of the anonymity of sources, the right of access to information, and self-regulatory measures. Thanks to international support, undercover journalists in Africa have become inevitable participants in the continent's media. However, facing the risks mentioned above still requires a lot of personal courage.

The Centre for Investigative Journalism, the Konrad Adenauer Stiftung (KAS), the Investigative Journalism Workshop, and the Forum for African Investigative Reporters also emphasise the heroic contribution and sacrifice of investigative journalists in Africa, stating that undertaking investigative journalism in Africa is akin to crossing a minefield (KAS 2010: 1). In order to show the courage of undercover journalism on the continent, they highlight the efforts of Mohamed Benchicou in Algeria; Geoffrey Nyarota in Zimbabwe; Daniel Bekoutou in Chad, who conducts investigations in Senegal; and Dele Olojede in Nigeria.

Human Trafficking in West Africa

The new generation of investigative journalists in Africa has a specific mission with their reports about human rights violations. They are investigating and sharing information through videos and articles in order to open the eyes of the international community to the region-wide problem that human trafficking represents. It can be considered as a form of contemporary slavery since the victims are forced to move and leave their homes for the purposes of their labour being exploited. The 2000 United Nations Protocol to Prevent, Suppress, and Punish Trafficking in Persons, Especially Women, also known as the Palermo Protocol, concentrates on the elements of deception and force when defining human trafficking. However, it completes the definition by advising that the vulnerability of the victim, abuse of power, and the level of enforcement of control over the individual at the point of exploitation be taken into consideration. Weitzer (2015: 225), however, emphasises that although the Palermo Protocol can be regarded as a milestone in the fight against the contemporary forms of systematic human rights violations, it fails to further define the terms “exploitation,” “abuse of power,” “vulnerability,” and even “control.” Because of the Palermo Protocol's inadequately specific language, it is difficult to apply it to concrete cases. Alternative indicators such as “violence,” “fraud,” or “force” would enable a given institution to more concretely measure human trafficking (2015: 226).

Serge Loungou (2011: 485) stresses that a “system of child trafficking is widespread among certain West African countries and Gabon.” For more than three decades, Gabon has been a major regional pole where a few migratory movements converge. The most important of these is the least known: illegal trafficking of children from Benin and Togo in the direction of Gabon. One way to explain this practice is through the function of socialisation through work in the life of many families in Africa. According to one conceptualisation of work in Africa, a child has the right to education, but also a responsibility to help the family through labour. But this concept went by the wayside in the 1960s when the first examples of child trafficking were identified – namely, vidomegon in Benin, amegbonovi in Togo, yaar doom in Senegal, and garibou in Burkina Faso. All these practices mean that the child is given to someone in the family in order to bring some profit to that person, the “end user.” Under his or her control, the child is forced to have sexual intercourse or work under unbearable conditions.

Despite the extending infringements in the region, certain African countries showed themselves to be engaged in the international protection of human rights as they adapted the universal, Westernised protection of the UN Convention of the Rights of the Child to the local context with the introduction of the African Charter on the Rights and Welfare of the Child (African Children's Charter) into their own legislation in July 1990. The Organization of African Unity (OAU) became the first continent-wide organisation to adopt a regional human rights instrument on the rights of children specifically adapted to the conditions of the region's societies. It prides itself on respecting children's rights from an “African” perspective. Therefore, the preservation of African cultural norms would actually entail stricter and more efficient national systems of protection against child labour, and the systemic illegal practices of exploitation could be broken down. The African Children's Charter “imposes certain ‘responsibilities’ on children towards their family, the society, the state, and other legally recognized communities and the international community” (African Charter on the Rights and Welfare of the Child 1990, art. 31). The OAU emphasised that children do not exist in society only in their quality of a person to be protected, but that they are also core members of the community. In other words, African children are still considered to have a responsibility to work for the cohesion and sustenance of their families, to put their physical and intellectual abilities at the service of their communities and to preserve cultural values in their relations with others (Nhenga-Chakarisa 2010: 170). Fishermen, merchants, and those parents who send their children away with strangers use this as an argument for having children work without salary and under inhuman conditions. However, the special importance of belonging to a community and the respect towards the family can never justify exploitation in an environment where international and regional human rights instruments outlaw such practices. As Sloth-Nielsen and Mezmur argue,

culture should not be relied on as a basis for diminishing protected rights. Where positive, culture should be harnessed for the advancement of children's rights. But when it appears that children are disadvantaged or disproportionately burdened by a cultural practice, the benefits of the cultural practice and the harm of the human rights violation must be weighed against each other. (2007: 350)

Human trafficking provides sufficient topics for investigative journalism:

Every year thousands of girls are trafficked from Nigeria to Ouagadougou, the hub and capital of Burkina Faso. Many are lured by promises of jobs as hairdressers or nannies and most believe they are heading to Europe or the [United States]. Often, they are then told they have been sold and must work as prostitutes to pay back debts. (Briggs 2012)

According to Africans Unite against Child Labour (AFRUCA), a London-based charity, Burkina Faso has one of the worst human trafficking problems in Africa. In the Pissi Quarter of Ouagadougou, women and girls as young as 14 are forced to sell their bodies at Mercy's Sex Shop to pay debts to traffickers. People in charge of the repatriation of victims say that corruption makes Ouagadougou an attractive target for criminals because other potential destinations such as Niger have been tightening border controls (Briggs 2012).

Despite the absence of reliable data, up to 45,000 children can be considered as victims of trafficking in Gabon alone (Loungou 2011: 496). They are forced to work mainly in the principal urban agglomerations of the destination country – Libreville, Port-Gentil, and Franceville. These children are mainly exploited in two major sectors of the Gabonese economy: domestic employment and commerce. Girls, mainly from Togo, are obviously victims of domestic servitude. They constitute the majority of victims in commerce, too; however, here victims from Benin are more preponderant. They work either in a fixed position or walk the markets in place of their “owner,” called the tuteur, who considers them as his or her property (Loungou 2011: 497). Despite the fact that the instrumental framework of children's rights was established with the adoption of the African Charter on the Rights and Welfare of the Child in 1990, its implementation still lacks power, as victims are not aware of their rights.

Anas Aremeyaw Anas's Undercover Journalism

The local and regional authorities still do not know many details about the widespread networks of human trafficking. However, local activists from NGOs and investigative journalists seem to be more efficient in the identification of victims and traffickers. The topic of human trafficking provides sufficient sources for young, talented investigative journalists to come up with shocking, sensational stories and even get the attention of international media with their stories. As emerging investigative journalist from Ghana Anas Aremeyaw Anas says, his team has “a three-tier mission for all the stories [they] work on: to name, shame and [help] jail the bad guys in their [society].” Anas exposes people, publishes their stories, hands them over to law enforcement agencies and ensures that they are dealt with according to the dictates of law (Anas 2014: 30). The journalist, from The Crusading Guide, specialises in print media and documentary filmmaking, focusing on issues of human rights and corruption in Ghana and sub-Saharan Africa.

Critics of investigative journalism accuse journalists like Anas of obtaining information by breaking laws, such as by bribing public officials. But Anas emphasises that these stories will significantly impact public opinion only if journalists use these methods as a last resort. He is convinced that the hard-core evidence such as video recordings cannot be denied, but that journalists have to respect the limits of obtaining this information. Investigative journalism cannot be a tool for carrying out personal vendettas or abusing the rights of private citizens (Anas 2014: 30). The new generation of investigative journalists in Africa is guided by the principle of going undercover only in the interest of the public. Anas can understand the criticism he encounters surrounding the use of deception in his investigations, but he stresses that he targets issues that would have remained unknown if they had been investigated with only traditional methods of journalism and had his team not intervened (Anas 2014: 31). Following these principles, he went undercover as a cleaner in 2006 in one of the biggest brothels in Ghana at that time. The documentary, titled Soja Bar Prostitution, premiered in September 2007 and showed how teenagers were forced into prostitution. He also exposed Soja Bar as a place for hardened criminals and the exploitation of women (Modern Ghana 2008). Soja Bar was later demolished by Ghanaian authorities and some of the underage prostitutes were taken in by state social services. However, the success of the social welfare system did not last for long:

The one hundred and sixty girls, taken into care by the Department, were put back on the streets a mere two days later. Today, they work on the side of the Accra railway tracks. (Kove-Seyram n.d.)

Anas has been dealing with the issue of human trafficking since Soja Bar Prostitution went public. His 2008 documentary Humans for Sale: Dons Exposed focused on his team's penetration of an international trafficking ring, where he was able to rescue 17 girls from trafficking, expose corrupt immigration officials, and testify as a witness in the trial (Anas n.d.). His film Ghana Sex Mafia, which came out in April 2014, tells the story of how Chinese girls were trafficked into Ghana and how Anas went undercover to bust the ring and then testified in court. His contribution led to the prosecution of the traffickers (Sahara TV 2014). Of course, Anas gathered evidence through the use of a hidden camera, but the investigation led not only to the protection of the victims but also to the conviction of the perpetrators. In other words, Anas's efforts show clearly how investigative journalism has been contributing recently to the abolition of forms of contemporary slavery.

Based on the initiatives of Anas, Schmidle (2010) draws the conclusion that “Anas has only one overriding mission: to force Ghana's government to act against the lawbreakers he exposes.” Anas's methods are more than narrative tricks. His main goal is to get results vis-à-vis the issues that would remain hidden from the public without his efforts. Thus, it seems that his initiatives are successful: the Chinese sex traffickers were arrested, convicted, and sentenced to a combined 41 years in prison. For that story and the story on child prostitution, the US State Department commended Anas for “breaking two major trafficking rings” and in June 2008 gave him a Heroes Acting to End Modern-Day Slavery Award (Schmidle 2010).

The demand for Anas's services soon outstripped his capacity at the newspaper. Some of the requests he received for investigations did not quite qualify as journalism. So, Anas created a private investigative agency called Tiger Eye in 2009. He rents an unmarked space somewhere in Accra, where a handful of his newspaper's best reporters work alongside several Tiger Eye employees. It is difficult to know where one operation ends and the other begins. They continue their mission to dig up information that would stay underground if it were investigated using the methods of traditional journalism. In September 2015, Anas's documentary Ghana in the Eyes of God premiered. It exposed the widespread corruption within the judiciary and graphically showed court workers such as clerks and bailiffs connive with a number of respected judges to influence court cases through bribes. Judges and magistrates were caught on a hidden camera receiving enticements of money, goats, sheep, and even foodstuffs. As a result, presumed robbers, murderers, drug traffickers, rapists, and litigants in land cases went free. The film effectively created a deep and destabilising crisis of conscience in Ghanaian society. In what is described as the country's biggest corruption scandal in decades, a further 22 junior judges have since been suspended from work pending investigations into the allegations (Laing 2015).

Conclusion

Nowadays the work of investigative journalists is being enhanced by the breakthrough of digital technology. In this revolutionary era, a new generation of journalists has emerged whose focus is the public interest and who cannot be stopped from finding out the truth just because it cannot be investigated using traditional methods of journalism. Investigative journalism now includes lying or even bribing public officials to gather information. However, the moral concerns are refuted by journalists, who argue that they highlight only information that serves to benefit society. These efforts are supported by initiatives like Global Witness, Afrileaks, and CENOZO. All of these initiatives aim to connect undercover journalists and to help them to securely conduct investigations despite the restrictive legal atmosphere of media in African countries. Thanks to the networks, communities of innovative and motivated journalists have appeared in Africa who are open to learning the modern techniques of journalism, including the usage of technology, and who cannot be stopped by threats or financial difficulties.

A good example of these ambitious investigations is how undercover journalists have been investigating the issue of human trafficking in West Africa. The African Union (AU) and the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) are regularly reminded by the reports of investigative journalists that the human rights situation on the continent does not fully comply with the signed international or regional human rights instruments. Investigative journalists can, however, serve the national and regional organisations in the pursuit of protecting human rights, as they can provide meaningful information about the local forms of contemporary slavery thanks to their direct contact with the victims and the perpetrators during the undercover investigations. Their efforts should, therefore, be more appreciated by the authorities, as these journalists carry out their work in an extremely risky environment, as the examples of Carlos Cardoso and John Githongo demonstrate. Both of them were stopped by the authorities from continuing their investigations: one was murdered, the other forced into exile.

Thanks to the reports of investigative journalists such as Anas Aremeyaw Anas, the international community knows about children forced to work in agriculture, in commerce, or as prostitutes. With Soja Bar Prostitution, Ghana Sex Mafia, and Humans for Sale: Dons Exposed, Anas exposed traffickers in Ghana and other West African countries, published their stories and handed them over to law enforcement agencies. Thanks to his efforts, it has become apparent that the engagement of the Ghanaian government in referring to the international human rights instruments in order to stop the spread of human trafficking has fallen far short of the principles to which it has committed itself. Anas has a clear answer to those who criticise his methods of obtaining information. He accepts using unconventional methods, but only as last resort. Going undercover in order to gain information about important public issues such as corruption or human trafficking seems efficient, but it remains the responsibility of the AU, ECOWAS, and the given national governments to afford to journalists a legal atmosphere in which they are able to avoid using illegal methods to get a story. The regional and national support for initiatives such as Global Witness and Afrileaks can result simultaneously in the expansion of successful investigative journalism and in the decrease of human trafficking. Thanks to the facilitator networks of journalists and organisations, more structured African-owned and African-operated media are being strengthened; they will not only reveal bad practice and create public awareness but also help regional organisations to be more aware of the problems to be solved on the continent.

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