Edward Kisiang’ani’s removal as Permanent Secretary for Broadcasting and Telecommunications on Thursday, March 20, marked a major turning point in the relationship between the government and the media.
During his two-year stint, he muddied the waters so much that there is now no love lost between government and media. This at a time when the government has come under unrelenting criticism on social media, in large part because operatives like Kisiang’ani consider legacy media to be the cause of the government’s migraines, which have been worsening by the day, largely because of its intransigence.
True, the relationship between the two was never meant to be rosy given that one keeps a critical eye always trained on the other. However, this relationship had, in the recent past, been needlessly strained because public officials like Kisiang’ani had become allergic to criticism and objective reporting.
And every time they bristled over an unflattering headline, they retaliated by making edicts that fly in the face of the law or by withholding advertising cheques that were already overdue.
Although Kisiang’ani, a history scholar, made his name and built his public service profile from television show appearances — he was what we in media call ‘a talking head’ — after President William Ruto gave him the job of PS in a ministry critical to the success of media, he went out of his way to issue contested proclamations whose overall effect was to roll back the growth and development of the media as an industry.
Worse, he oversaw the further strain of a relationship that was already heading south, even though he had media goodwill — and the opportunity — to build bridges.
On the day he was fired, for instance, High Court judge Lawrence Mugambi quashed a Kisiang’ani directive that had unilaterally appointed the Kenya Broadcasting Corporation as the sole beneficiary of government advertising. Under his tenure, the Government Advertising Agency (GAA) also decreed that all newspaper advertising would be monopolised by The Star newspaper.
The net effect of this is that the other three national circulation newspapers — the Daily Nation, The Standard and People Daily — were unfairly locked out and denied advertising that was critical to securing the jobs of journalists and other media workers.
Before that unilateral decision, GAA had an arrangement through which all four newspapers took turns to carry the advertising. As to whether they were paid for their pain is another story altogether.
Interestingly, despite spiting the media, the government still expected positive coverage even as it was overseeing the systematic erosion of media freedom and wilfully undermined their financial sustainability.
When The Standard changed its editorial approach after a leadership change earlier this year, Kisiang’ani responded with adrenaline, striking out a contract that The Standard had independently negotiated with the Ministry of Irrigation to run a public awareness campaign ahead of the launch of the ministry’s National Irrigation Sector Investment Plan.
In Kisiang’ani’s thinking, a newspaper that takes an independent editorial stance ought not to benefit from government advertising even when it is offering value both to the advertiser and the public.
Citizens inevitably expect the media to be independent. When this happens, it goes without saying, circulation grows, meaning that even government messaging will reach a wider population. Rather than view this as a benefit to the government, Kisiang’ani chose to see it as a liability and used it as punishment against The Standard.
Interestingly, on the day he issued the malodorous order, the Dutch monarch, King Willem-Alexander, was at State House where he urged President Ruto to ensure that the rights and freedoms of Kenyans are upheld and safeguarded.
“The people of Kenya, like those of the Netherlands, want their rights as free citizens to be respected, and their voices to be heard,” the King said during his State visit.
Kisiang’ani probably listened to the King’s counsel with one ear but let it out through the other, choosing to obey it in the breach rather than the observance.
Now he has been relegated to a holding room after being designated as a special economic adviser to the President. This is a position that, for all intents and purposes, is meant to ensure that those who have been edged out of critical public positions do not urinate on the current administration from the outside even after they cease being useful.
His successor, Stephen Isaboke, comes highly recommended, given his many years as a private broadcasting honcho. No doubt, he understands both the local and African media markets and we can only hope that he will avoid the unforced errors that unceremoniously cut short Kisiang’ani’s career in the public service.
For now, all we in media can say to Kisiang’ani is “so long, crocodile”.