By Kodi Barth

Everyone who bought The Sunday Standard last week for its headline, "Cracks emerge in LDP", should get their money back. That story pulled off a daylight robbery, in a manner of speaking. It read like speculation, speculation and speculation.

And in the only two news stories on the back page, reporters let their guard down, wrote assumptions that escaped copy editors, and compromised journalism.

Here is the evidence.

In the headline story, the paper wrote: "Against a backdrop of speculation that he may be losing Raila Odinga’s support … Kalonzo has hit the campaign trail." Two damaging words there: "speculation" and "may".

Then, "Luo MPs were absent (at Kalonzo’s party), even after they had ‘boycotted’ Kibaki’s tour of Rarieda. The cold shoulder was interpreted by analysts (what analysts?) as payback for Kalonzo whose allies stayed away from Jaramogi Oginga Odinga’s memorial … last year."

Mere interpretation by unnamed analysts is double damage to a news story that began with a categorical headline.

Next: "Kalonzo’s party yesterday was being viewed (by whom?) as a part of his multi-prolonged strategy to attain a head start…" And: "His backers are keen to see him walk out of the shadow of Raila…" Who said so? Further down: "Lately, suspicions have abounded in Kalonzo’s camp fearful of Raila’s apparent alliance with … Charity Ngilu and … Musikari Kombo." Does the paper know for a fact that "suspicions have abounded"? Where is the evidence?

Add these to the many instances of "sources said", "Kalonzo’s allies said" and you have nothing to hang the story on.

But there was also this: "[… Otieno Kajwang’ and Mtito MP Kiema Kilonzo believe that … government’s propaganda machine has a hand in the [apparent] fall-out in the party."

Ok, it’s time for newspapers to post at least one rule of thumb on their front doors. It should read, "Notice, there’s a difference between ‘he said he believes’ and ‘he believes’. The former is empirical fact, our business. The latter is spiritual reading of the mind or heart, the business of the Holy Spirit."

The question is not whether everything the story claimed is actually true. In fact, a top editor told this column that the information came from sources as close as one could get to the key subjects. But here’s how journalism works: show me the evidence. Reporters may know they’re talking about something solid, but readers don’t. So, if reporters don’t show the evidence, they can’t yell righteousness. Without supporting quotes and enumerated facts, it is all speculation.

Well, there were actually a few quotes attributed to LDP Chairman David Musila, disputing the major claims. But those quotes came towards the very end — a day late and a dollar short.

The major damage to that story, however, came from unaccounted sources. And it is about time newspapers enforced another rule: any politician who has anything to say to the media should say it out in the open, in broad daylight, or just shut up. If newspapers don’t want to take the flak for pandering to cheap politics and spinning the news, it is crucial that they give a blackout to politicians who won’t talk on the record.

It is a safe bet to say that the vast majority of our anonymous sources are no heroes. They’re merely concerned with their personal survival, especially in politics. They cannot stand up for what they claim the country needs to know. So why should we grant ghosts heroism?

"This is what I do," every reporter should be proud to say to every politician. "I inform the country. Everything must be on the record, or nothing will be." Thereafter, newspapers may run dreary stories for a while, but it could be the beginning of a great culture in accountable journalism.

The bottom line, really, is that no story is worth telling in journalism if no one can put a finger on a single source with a name and a face.

The Sunday Standard’s back-page stories, on the other hand, had flaws of a different kind.

The first, titled, "Minor injured," carried a tortured narrative. "A 12-year-old girl yesterday claimed she had been beaten up and seriously injured by relatives at Makunga Health Centre in Kakamega District," the story began. One problem: Yes, a subject can claim to have been beaten. But "serious injuries" are visible. A reporter can see injuries and not attribute them to claims — unless someone didn’t check.

In paragraph four, we’re told that "He said she also suffered stomach injuries." With no previous introduction to a male, the reader doesn’t know if the girl-victim was also a boy.

The second story, titled, "Ngong’ businessman killed in night raid," ran with a damaging assumption. "A businessman was shot dead by thugs in Ngong’ on Friday night. Even the last Sunday Nation said in a back-page caption that the victim, one Livingston Naimasia, "was shot dead by gangsters."

Who, really, told the news people that it is gangsters who pulled the fatal trigger? Wait, it could actually turn out that it was thugs/gangsters that actually committed the murder. The point, however, is that last Sunday, the newspapers didn’t, couldn’t, know this for a fact. They simply forgot about the life-line prefix, "suspected" gangsters.

And that minor omission compromised the entire story.