Shitanshu Bhowmik Ankur: Journalism has always felt to me like a kind of moral pursuit. When I entered this profession, I thought it would be defined by inquiry, humanity, and a sense of responsibility for social change. But gradually, I realized that a dangerous illness is taking root inside our newsrooms, it’s called ‘unprofessionalism and dirty newsroom politics’.
I went to ‘Deshkal News’ to learn journalism. My eagerness to learn was immense, and my dreams were big. But I have to say, with great disappointment, that in this place, I learned more about fear, manipulation, and the meaning of dirty politics than I did about knowledge.
Initially, the work experience wasn’t too bad. I first worked on the Crime beat, and later on the NCP beat . I had no complaints about the workload, responsibility, or tasks. I did the work the office gave me with dedication, because I believed that a journalist’s primary duty is ‘professionalism’.
But this professionalism is most damaged when the leadership in the newsroom consists of people whose core values are ‘conspiracy, nepotism, and the practice of lies.’
After the former Chief Reporter moved elsewhere, someone from the reporting team was appointed to take his place as the ‘Chief Reporter’. But alongside this, a new position was created above the Chief Reporter: the ‘Reporting In-charge’.
This “In-charge” position was completely fabricated, created only for the ‘convenience of power.’ And the person who took this role was a Deputy Editor from the office, named Ishtiaque Hossain.
The job of an In-charge or supervisor should be to guide the team, inspire them, generate ideas, and encourage journalists in the field. But in reality, as soon as he took charge, he created an atmosphere of fear, division, and uncertainty within the reporting department.
He never gave any report ideas, nor did he professionally guide anyone. Instead, he seemed to find pleasure in constantly and unnecessarily accusing reporters, humiliating them in meetings, and creating mental pressure.
I am a direct victim of this. I was covering the NCP beat at the time. I regularly went to the field, developed sources, and collected information. Yet, in meetings, I had to listen to insulting remarks about my presence and work quality.
Despite consistently working in the field, I would be told, “You don’t go to your beat,” “Your work is substandard.” Yet, I know how many hours I spent at the NCP office every day and how much information I collected.
I felt like this person came not to guide me, but to slowly mentally destabilize me. Working with him meant being belittled every day for a new excuse. I reached a point where going to the office meant carrying a mental burden.
Now I think, a supervisor’s job is to guide and support colleagues. But he did the exact opposite-humiliating people in front of everyone, creating false stories, and giving the editor the impression that no one knew how to work. Those who tried to reason with him were also put in ‘another group’. Professional journalism became impossible in this strange environment.
Thus, day after day, I was mentally cornered for no reason. Eventually, I realized that this was happening not just to me, but to the entire reporting team. Everyone seemed to live in silent dread, no one dared to protest, and they remained silent for fear of losing their jobs.
When this culture of fear and injustice is established in a newsroom, journalism becomes politics, not a profession. And at the center of that politics are lies, conspiracy, flattery, and power games. Everyone uses it to their advantage.
Slowly, the office politics took on a new form. A journalist’s ideology or who they spoke to also began to affect their work. When I was covering the ‘DUCSU election’ for the NCP beat, the office repeatedly pressured me, with subtle hints, to do news favoring a specific political party. I was asked for propaganda content to ‘promote’ a ‘Shibir-aligned panel’. I disobeyed that instruction. Because to me, journalism means telling the truth, not serving a party.
But my stance became ‘disobedience’ in the eyes of many. I saw that accurate and verified news I submitted was dropped, and false propaganda news was being published. I was then pressured to write intentionally negative reports against NCP. I refused. Today, I feel this was also a major reason for losing my job.
Although the editor himself initially encouraged me to do news in favor of the NCP. I was even sent to cover an NCP march funded by the office. But suddenly, the position changed. ‘Jamaat and Shibir’ began to receive priority over NCP. It’s not my place to call a party good or bad, but when journalism is intentionally turned into a single-party tool, it’s nothing short of a disgrace to the profession.
Day by day, the newsroom environment became more toxic. Working under Ishtiaque Hossain’s constant unprofessional behavior became impossible. Although I was supposed to stay until December, I myself requested an exemption in October. I asked the editor, in an email copied to the Executive Editor, Reporting In-charge, and Chief Reporter, why the termination letter they sent me did not mention a reason or any prior warning/show-cause notice. I considered this an injustice and wanted to know the issue with my exemption. They did not respond. So, I told the editor, “If you don’t want to state the reason, I will take the exemption myself, but my dues must be settled as per my appointment letter.” I was astonished that the check for my due salary was dated December. This means no one cared how I would manage my life in November. This is not just mismanagement; it is inhumanity.
Who is responsible for all this? The editor certainly wasn’t blind. But the way he was influenced by his supervisors suggests that he relied more on the advice of a specific group than on running the newsroom effectively.
I was even more disheartened when I went for job interviews recently. I met several former colleagues who are still working at Deshkal but are looking for new positions. They all reported the same thing—the office environment is now worse than before.
One of them even shared a horrifying piece of information, a Senior Sub Editor in Deshkal’s English section recently resigned, stating in an email to the editor (which was copied to everyone in the office) that the “editor’s unprofessional and inhuman behavior” was the main reason for his leaving. He also highlighted various inconsistencies across the institution.
All this proves that the sickness currently plaguing our media houses is not just of a single individual, but a deep-rooted organizational cultural illness.
Today, when the sacred place of journalism-the newsroom becomes a site of mental torture, it is impossible for real news to be produced there. A journalist can only do good work when they have a sense of security, freedom, and respect.
But when the team leader himself creates mental pressure and uses humiliation as a tactic, it spreads like poison across the entire organization. I know this writing will be uncomfortable for many. Perhaps it will affect my chances for future jobs. But I am writing anyway—because this experience is not just mine; countless young journalists are falling victim to newsroom’s ‘dirty politics’ every day. Some are losing their jobs, some are suffering from mental trauma, and others are going silent. Perhaps the direct intervention of those I’m talking about will prevent me from getting a job in many places. But it must be said—because to remain silent is to aid injustice.
If a Chief Reporter or In-charge thinks they own the team, they are wrong. A supervisor’s job is to build the team, not break it. I don’t know which institution will be my workplace next. But I will remember Reporting In-charge Ishtiaque Hossain as a team breaker and Editor Palash as an inhuman editor. We, who write about the rights of others and report on the injustice of others every day, should also write the story of our own injustice one day. Today, I have written that story-the dark history of a newsroom I witnessed with my own eyes.