It has been a year now since I first went to the Democratic Republic of Congo to train a group of 15 women journalists in radio reporting together with Louise William. In the course of this year, I have worked with them closely on a daily basis, either by phone and emails, or face-to-face when I went back to DRC and when two of them came to The Hague. It has been a wonderful experience, getting to know these women and becoming close friend with several of them.

But it has also been a tough check-in with reality. Often, one step forward has meant two steps back and it has not been easy to deal with the conflicting emotions, outcomes and reactions this work has brought to me, to the journalists and to their communities.

For a start mixing journalism and development is not as easy as it seems. Many media development NGOs come to countries like DRC, give a few trainings which in their mind equals giving the necessary skills to the journalists to work in a professional and balanced manner. Then they leave and all goes down the gutter. I have actually heard media development professionals putting the blame on the journalists themselves (!). But media, perhaps more than any other sector, are very much dependent on the environment they work in.

A few months ago, in April, I led a second radio training in Goma, for 15 new journalists coming from all over North and South Kivu to join the programme. It was great to see all these new faces I would soon get to know, fifteen women who fought hard to be where they are. The training started with an hour-long lecture I delivered on journalism ethics, and as it is usually the case at the beginning, they kept quiet. When I invited them to comment, ask questions and debate the principles I had presented to them, a passionate discussion ensued which filled most of the morning session. All of them – and I mean all of them without a single exception – admitted to taking bribes from politicians and influential people. They know it is wrong, but what do you do when you are never paid your salary at the end of the month? They all talked about being censored by their editors or radio station managers, for fear of either violent or financial retribution on the part of the authorities or local businessmen. And finally they said that never mind how much they are trained, how professional they are, they will never be given responsibilities because they are women.

This is the kind of environment media development  NGOs operate in, but they are often blind to it. Journalists are trained, but hardly ever radio stations managers or editors. Not all of them are corrupted idiots, but many of them lack the vision and skills to circle censorship and create a sustainable business plan for their radio stations to be economically independent and therefore editorially independent. Some could also do with a little lesson in feminism.

For the women journalists I am working with, this means that what they learn with us is at odds with the opportunities they get in “real life”. Principles of ethics, the code of deontology and good journalism practices are applied with difficulties to their daily work at local radio stations. Perspectives of evolution in their career are dim. Recently, one of the journalists that we had considered a success story had to stop working suddenly. After being trained by IWPR for a year, she had finally gained the confidence and skills to go in the field reporting for her radio station rather than merely read news bulletins. It was her greatest joy to finally be able to put together a report by herself and be granted the permission to go and interview people on her own. I was thrilled for her. But women reporters, because they talk to everyone, are considered to be “easy”, or in other, cruder words, they are considered sluts by Congolese society. Her in-laws were shocked by her new role and her husband threatened her on several accounts. In the end, she had to give up because the pressure was too much and her husband did raise his hand on her. One step forward, thousands of steps back.

Together we are working on finding a solution and I know she will come back to journalism because she would stop breathing otherwise, but it is tough and though I beat myself for feeling down when my friend is going through the actual hardships, there are moments were “what’s the point?” comes to mind.

No perspective of evolution, few role models and no real positive competition between media organizations that are not driven by the desire to be at the forefront of journalism but rather by the necessity of pleasing their patrons, also means that it is difficult for local journalists to be ambitious and forward thinking. On a daily basis it means that while they are enthusiastic at the beginning of their partnership with us, their level of motivation and involvement goes down exponentially as time passes, the real work starts and immediate benefits are modest. Goma being the third highest concentration of NGOs per inhabitants in the world after Kabul and Port-au-Prince, the population has also grown accustomed to receiving rather than initiate, and that is true for journalists too. The general dire poverty and the poor wages in journalism also means that local journalists will take anything you throw at them and they often overload themselves with work, missing deadlines as a result and filling in shoddy reports. As IWPR project in DRC is growing in myriads of way (we have started video reporting with mobile phones, a new website for DRC managed by the journalists themselves is underway and meetings with the civil society are organized in our new office that doubles up as a media centre, among other recent and future developments) the opportunities for the journalists are multiplying and many of them are spreading themselves thin. For me, it means I have to run after them to get things done on time. It is discouraging, draining and there again “What’s the point?” comes to mind.

I know I can change neither the environment local journalists work in, nor the ground realities of DRC. In fact, I have come to realize (pardon me if I am slow) that the only way to improve anything is working on the individual rather than on the system. Media development happens in a context and nothing will move until good governance and economic development set in. But it is possible to help a handful of them make a better life for themselves and hopefully change mentalities around them through their work. It will always remain small and perhaps insignificant, but it is what it is. It will also mean that a step forward might result in several steps back, in the short-term. So what I will do when I go back to Goma in a week is seat down with each one of the women journalists, talk real life, career and long-term perspectives that will result in custom-made individual programmes. That way I hope we can get out of the vicious circle where they take anything that comes their way without initiating or being in control of where their career is going. I have seen too many media development NGOs delivering their training mechanically and without further thinking about what happens when they leave, so whether they want to be a Congolese Oprah, a sound editing wiz, a fixer for international media outlets or a web journalism pro, it will be all about achieving that dream from now on. Because I want to keep believing, but I need to know in what and they do to.