More Than a Workshop: How the CJID Campus Journalism Clinic Changed the Way I See Journalism

By Alhagie Omar Jallow

I have attended workshops before and, like many student journalists, I usually arrive with a notebook, listen carefully, write down as much as I can, collect a certificate, take a group photograph, and move on. The excitement often fades before I get home. The Campus Journalism Clinic was different.

On August 3 and 4, student journalists from the University of The Gambia’s School of Journalism and Digital Media and the Media Academy for Journalism and Communication gathered at Bakadaji Hotel for a two-day training organised by the Centre for Journalism Innovation and Development (CJID). We came from different classrooms and experiences, but we were united by the same curiosity. We all wanted to become better journalists. I expected to learn new skills. I did not expect the training to change the way I think about journalism.

From the opening session, it became clear that this was not going to be another workshop where facilitators spoke, and participants nodded along. Questions were encouraged. Opinions were challenged. Every discussion forced us to think beyond what we had learnt in the classroom.

The moment that stayed with me most came during the investigative journalism session facilitated by Mustapha K. Darboe of The Republic.

Like many young Gambians, I had followed his groundbreaking investigation into the sale of assets belonging to former President Yahya Jammeh. The investigation did more than dominate headlines. It ignited national conversations, inspired protests led by young people demanding accountability, and reminded the country that journalism can influence public discourse in ways few professions can.

Listening to him speak was different from reading his stories. He did not romanticise investigative journalism. He spoke honestly about the patience it demands, the obstacles reporters encounter, the importance of evidence, and the responsibility that comes with publishing information capable of shaking institutions. For someone who hopes to pursue investigative journalism, it was one of those rare moments where the person standing before you quietly expands what you believe is possible.

It reminded me that the best investigations are not driven by the desire to go viral. They are driven by persistence, public interest, and the courage to keep asking questions when others have stopped.

Another session that challenged my thinking focused on fact-checking. We live in a time when false information travels across social media in seconds, while the truth often struggles to catch up. Before the clinic, I understood the importance of verification. After the clinic, I understood that verification is not simply another stage of reporting. It is the foundation of journalism itself. Every image deserves scrutiny. Every statistic deserves context. Every claim deserves evidence. Those lessons resonated deeply with me because they aligned with the kind of journalist I aspire to become.

The training also introduced us to Open Source Intelligence, commonly known as OSINT. Until then, I had mostly associated the term with intelligence agencies and cybersecurity experts. Instead, I discovered that publicly available information, when used ethically, can become one of a journalist’s most powerful investigative tools.

It was fascinating to realise how satellite imagery, public databases, archived websites, geolocation techniques, and digital footprints can help verify events and strengthen reporting.

During the data journalism session on the second day, the Managing Editor of Askanwi Media,  Yusef Taylor, demonstrated that numbers are not just figures sitting inside spreadsheets. They are stories waiting to be understood. Data can expose inequality, reveal hidden trends, and provide evidence that strengthens public interest reporting. It changed the way I look at statistics. Instead of seeing numbers as supporting details, I now see them as sources that can speak for themselves when analysed carefully.

Equally thought-provoking was the session on gender-sensitive reporting, which explored the importance of reporting that reflects the experiences of women, persons with disabilities, and other groups that are too often overlooked or misrepresented. It challenged us to think carefully about language, representation, and whose voices are included in our stories. Good journalism is not only about accuracy. It is also about fairness.

Beyond the sessions themselves, some of the most valuable lessons happened during lunch breaks, over coffee, and in conversations with fellow participants. We exchanged ideas, debated ethical dilemmas, shared our ambitions, and discovered that despite attending different institutions, we all wrestle with many of the same questions about the future of journalism.

Those conversations reminded me that journalism is not a solitary profession. It is built on collaboration, learning, and a shared commitment to serving the public.

As I left Bakadaji Hotel at the end of the second day, I realised I was carrying much more than pages of notes. I was leaving with renewed confidence in the profession I have chosen.

The Campus Journalism Clinic reminded me that journalism is not measured by how quickly we publish or how many views we generate. It is measured by the questions we ask, the facts we verify, the people whose stories we tell, and the impact our reporting has on society.

For two days, we learnt techniques, tools, and skills. More importantly, we were reminded why journalism matters.

That lesson will stay with me far longer than any certificate ever could.