“No breaking news cycle, no live reports, no international outrage, no hashtags.” According to The Independent, this was the response of Africa Matters political analyst Imad Mesdoua, upon realising the minimal media coverage of the recent terrorist attack in Baga. Not too long ago, almost every single media outlet took it upon themselves to report the undeniably horrific attacks in Paris, commencing from the shootings that took place in the capital’s Charlie Hebdo magazine offices. Was this wrong? Of course not. A tragedy took place and people needed to know about it. However, what was wrong was the fact that, despite having occurred during the same week as the incidents in Paris and killing ten times the number of people, the reports on the Nigerian attacks by Boko Haram have been comparatively few, and I cannot help but wonder why this is so. Is the life of an African worth less than that of a Parisian?
Although the deadliest, the slaughter in Baga was by no means the first horrific act committed by the Islamic terrorist group; there have been at least 50 major attacks in Nigeria since the beginning of 2014. Cities such as Maiduguri in the north of the country have been in recent weeks by the militant group. But, yet again, few people have heard about incidents such as this one. And while it is true that much of the blame lies with the Nigerian government itself for failing to ensure that the country has an effective national security system, the role of the media in neglecting to report on much of the crisis in Nigeria should not be forgotten.
On the one hand, the reasons for the glaring disparities are obvious: in comparison to Paris, north-eastern Nigeria is far away from Britain, situated in a whole other continent. From here stems the view that the events which occur in west Africa are not as ‘relevant’ or significant to our side of the world. However, this explanation does not account for the West’s rapid call for action in Iraq against Isis, nor does it measure up when remembering the horror expressed by news stations all over the country in the wake of the 9/11 attacks in the United States.
Opting for the cliché, yet nonetheless controversial, response is easy to do: Iraq is one of the biggest producers of oil in the world, and the U.S. has been one of the globe’s leading superpowers for centuries, whereas – despite being rich in oil – Nigeria’s prowess in world politics is comparatively negligible. To some extent, our journalists have no choice butto place greater prominence on the affairs of the countries that will inevitably have greater influence on British state affairs. After all, if there’s one thing politics has taught us it’s that significance is a relative concept based on influence. That is to say, journalists are under increasing pressure to adhere to the vested interests of their nations, rather than the moral interests of their consciences, which would be fine if it was acceptable to substitute money for morality.
But again, this type of reasoning is far too simplistic. Ultimately, people will only report on events which they believe will interest the masses. The masses in this case being the western public and, as part of that, the masses being you and I. If you and I are not expressing our desire to know more about largely ignored cases such as the massacre in Baga, then what makes you and I think that the media is suddenly going to place such instances at the top of its reporting agenda?
It’s easy to ignore tragedies that happen across the globe until, like the Hebdo shootings, they edge just a bit closer to home. To my shame, as a young Nigerian female who has been privileged to be in receipt of one of the best educations in the world, I often find it all too easy to brush aside the antics of a Nigerian terrorist group which condemns western education, simply because I happen to be living in the diaspora.
As cliché as it sounds, I like to think of my life and the lives of others as a story. That is to say that each second, each day and each year are tiny fragments of a wider narrative yet to be completed, and so by choosing to engage with the story surrounding the attacks in Paris and neglecting that of the attack in Baga, we are effectively affirming the fallacy that one story or rather, one life, is more significant than the other. So perhaps the blame does not solely lie with the Camerons and Jonathans and Halls of this world. Perhaps it largely lies with us.
