Dear reader,
“You need to get a journalist to Hoërskool Generaal Hertzog (HGH) immediately,” the voice on the other end of the line pleaded, “please; it’s burning to the ground!”
I felt it was a bit early for hysteria, but promised the woman I’d send our best journo out; sipping my lukewarm coffee as I tried to placate her, the milk making downy-winter clouds in my cup.
I’d hardly put my unsatisfying beverage down before one of my co-workers stormed into the office.
“Everyone relax, its okay!” she exclaimed, beaming.
“So the school’s not burning down?”
“No, I was just there. There’s some dancing and singing, but nothing out of hand really,” she explained.
‘Great,’ I thought, ‘would have been a nice story if it had been true. People love school drama.’
I logged onto Facebook. I always make the mistake of reading the comments on my articles. Perhaps I’m a masochist, maybe I just hate myself.
“Why are you lying,” read one of the comments, “those children poisoned in Vosman last week died from eating poisoned popcorn. Why aren’t you telling us the truth, mara?”
I wondered if the boss would notice if I slipped a little Irish into my coffee.
‘Breathe,’ I thought, ‘people love their half stories.’
As I sat with the media statement regarding the two children’s autopsies, I wondered where other news outlets (and thus our readers) heard the rumours pertaining to poisoned popcorn.
There was not even a hint of a mention of popcorn in the report.
For days after the incident at HGH, we’d receive calls alleging everything from a fire at the school, to straight-up mob justice.
Every time a journalist would go out to investigate, and every time they’d return laughing; having just witnessed the students playing soccer and eating sarmies during break – as is normal for kids to do.
No fires in sight.
Some may say that a little excitement never killed anyone.
Why not spread the most dramatic version of a story that you can find?
It’s what your friends want to hear, isn’t it? And it just makes for the best water cooler-talk.
I think perhaps the little boy who cried wolf felt the same way; what could the harm be in garnering a little extra attention for yourself?
Anxiously yours,
Aimee
