En colaboración para Organización Editorial Mexicana.
Mael Vallejo es editor de Post Opinión, la sección de opinión en español de The Washington Post.
Desde que era estudiante he pensado que la principal función del periodismo —de mi labor como periodista— es intentar entender el mundo para, con suerte, poder explicárselo a alguien más: dar contexto, aportar información a los hechos y ponerlos en un lugar más luminoso y amplio para los lectores. Si habláramos en términos cinematográficos, diría que esta función es como hacer un zoom out, una toma que empieza en un detalle pequeño y se va ampliando hasta ver todo lo que abarca la cámara.
Eso no significa que no creyera —que aún crea— en la función básica y primordial del periodismo como contrapeso al poder, un watchdog de los gobernantes y los poderes fácticos. Es importantísimo y necesario, y más en un momento de crisis como en el que estamos a nivel mundial.
Pero para mí es igual de importante entender las cosas, ponerlas en orden. Y desde hace unos meses, en medio de la polarización política y social, creo cada vez más que el punto fundamental de lo que hacemos es buscar hacer una pausa para encontrar los porqué; no en términos absolutos, que eso sería imposible, sino en los pequeños casos particulares que nos pasan enfrente a diario.
Hay una frase atribuida a Jonathan Foster que dice: “Si alguien dice que está lloviendo y otra persona dice que no, tu trabajo no es citarlos a ambos, sino mirar por la maldita ventana del cuarto y averiguar quién dice la verdad”. Hoy no solo estamos metidos en un cuarto pequeñísimo, donde hacer zoom out es cada vez más difícil, sino que además nos está haciendo falta mirar por la ventana. Así que solo publicamos distintas versiones de distintas personas sobre si está lloviendo: mucho, poco, granizando o estamos en sequía.
En ese cuarto nos metimos nosotros mismos al cambiar el esquema en el que trabajábamos. Antes había una cantidad de notas limitada para producir al día, al mes o la semana. Era limitada porque el papel, o el programa de radio o TV, así lo exigía. Así que a esa información limitada se le intentaba dar —en el mejor de los casos— un valor agregado o contexto; se jerarquizaba, se editaba y revisaba, y entonces se publicaba.
La cantidad de información basura que hoy producimos y consumimos es alarmante, y en eso no podemos culpar a las audiencias. Esa frase de “hay que darle al lector lo que pide” es vieja desde que nació. Nosotros nos metimos en ese cuarto donde hay que crear miles de notas con información que, muchas veces, ya habrá salido antes en redes sociales. Y sin contexto, sin jerarquía y sin supervisión.
Es así que ahora las notas más leídas —y las que se exigen a los redactores— son las que le dan voz a antivacunas, a conspiranoicos, a negacionistas de la pandemia o que buscan darle un escarmiento a las lords y ladies de la semana. En este pequeño cuarto en el que estamos metidos ya ni siquiera se busca a la contraparte para que diga si cree que está lloviendo (o si lo que dicen estas personas tiene sentido o no). Los medios solo reproducimos la frase de que la Tierra es plana, y que el lector decida por sí mismo.
Esto no es una añoranza del pasado o una propuesta para solo crear contenido exquisito que nadie lea. La idea de la “dictadura del click” me parece irrelevante desde hace años. Pensar en volver al papel, lo mismo. Todos queremos que la información que producimos llegue a la mayor cantidad de gente posible, y para eso internet y todas sus plataformas no tienen comparación.
No es una pelea con tener mucha audiencia, sino el conseguirla de una mejor forma. Es tan sencillo como volver a intentar explicar por qué están sucediendo las cosas. Muchas veces, para contestar las preguntas de qué pasó —y cómo, cuándo y dónde— son suficientes las redes sociales. Lo que el periodismo puede aportar, hoy más que nunca, es ese contexto, la información extra: el zoom out que le dé una pausa al mundo, que haga que el lector sepa si de verdad está lloviendo o no.
The interview room at Finglas Garda station, in north Dublin, is not a nice place to be at the best of times.
It is small, stuffy and not designed for more than three people to use comfortably for any length of time.
By 2.30pm on May 25th last year all five of its occupants were feeling stressed. Among them was a 13-year-old boy who had been answering questions for nearly 10 hours over two days.
His mother, who in the first interview had sat beside the boy, holding his hand, had moved her chair farther away. She appeared to become more distressed by every new question put to her son.
The boy’s solicitor, who had remained silent for most of the process, had begun to clash with the interviewing gardaí more frequently over their questioning.
For the Garda detectives in the room, Donal Daly and Damien Gannon, the stress came from the knowledge that they had only a few more hours to get the boy, who would later become known to the public as Boy B, to reveal how 14-year-old Ana Kriégel had been murdered, 11 days earlier.
The investigators had a mountain of forensic evidence, but it was all against Boy B’s coaccused, and one-time best friend, Boy A. They knew Boy B was present when Ana died, and they knew he had played a role in bringing her to the abandoned house where she was killed. They also knew there was a big difference between knowing something and proving it.
It had been an exhausting process. Slowly but surely the detectives’ questioning had caused the boy to revise his account of the day of Ana’s murder.
Boy B had started the interview process the day before by repeating what he first told gardaí the previous week: that Boy A had asked him to call to Ana’s home, in Leixlip, just outside Dublin in Co Kildare, and bring her to him in St Catherine’s Park, so they could talk. And that he left Ana with Boy A before going home to do his homework.
As part of their investigation, gardaí had examined more than 700 hours of CCTV footage from the area around where Ana disappeared. Daly and Gannon put it to Boy B repeatedly that the route he claimed they took that day in no way matched what was captured by the cameras in and around St Catherine’s Park, which sits on the Lucan side of Leixlip, on the border between Co Kildare and Co Dublin.
But Boy B stuck to his story, offering alternate explanations to gardaí for the inconsistencies between the CCTV footage and his account.
The first change to his story came the next morning, at the start of interview four. The boy had spent the night in an office on the second floor of the station. Because the Children Act forbids child suspects from being detained in cells, gardaí had cleared an office for the boy and brought in bedding so he and his mother could sleep there overnight. The station had been closed to all other prisoners to ensure the boy didn’t come into contact with any other adults.
His solicitor told the detectives the boy had reflected on his statement overnight and wanted to make a change. “I’m going to retell the story of what actually happened,” Boy B said. “What I told you yesterday was a lie.”
He went on to say he and Ana had met Boy A by the BMX track in the park, not by Courtyard Lane as he previously claimed. Despite the dramatic preamble, the boy’s admission of dishonesty did little to advance the case. He claimed he lied because he initially got confused about his movements in the park and felt he couldn’t change his story without arousing suspicion.
Until then Boy B had remained remarkably calm.
A highly intelligent child, he spoke calmly, clearly and in full sentences. When gardaí asked if he knew what words like “detention” or “murder” meant he gave concise, accurate answers. At one point Gannon asked if he knew what the word “arrest” meant. “That you are detaining me for something that I did or might have done,” Boy B replied.
He appeared to have a large vocabulary for his age (he described Ana as wearing “synthetic leather” trousers) and put his answers into context when they might otherwise have been confusing. He sounded more like a young adult at a job interview than a 13-year-old boy accused of murder.
In short, up to that point he appeared more than a match for the detectives’ gentle interview approach.
But, despite appearing relatively inconsequential, Boy B’s concession that he had told lies marked a turning point in the interviews and in the wider case.
It provided the detectives with a valuable tool. Because he had admitted to lying once, Daly and Gannon could cast doubt over everything else the boy had told them. Now, whenever the boy said anything that sounded fishy, they could remind him he had already lied to them and had been found out.
The Garda Síochána interview model was introduced following the Morris tribunal, which heavily criticised the informal and sometimes oppressive interview tactics employed by the force. The model introduced a standardised approach to interviews across the Garda. All operational members are now trained in eliciting information from victims, witnesses and suspects while being careful not to lead them into simply telling them what they want to hear.
After completing an intensive two-week course at the Garda College, in Templemore, Daly had qualified as a level-three interviewer, the second-highest in the four-tier training hierarchy.
Level-three interviewers usually focus on serious crimes such as murder and rape. They’re trained to prepare extensively for each interview. If a suspect has an excuse for their actions, it is vital the interviewer immediately be able to cite any evidence that might disprove it.
Although their approach seems natural and fluid, level-three interviewers are actually following a strict formula. The first step is to build rapport. This creates “a non-judgmental, non-coercive atmosphere conducive to disclosure”, according to a 2016 study of the model.
Daly spent large parts of the first interview asking Boy B about his interests and hobbies. He asked what video games he liked (Halo and Outlast) and about his favourite Marvel character (Deadpool). There was laughter as Daly told Boy B he’d have to spell the name of his favourite YouTube star, PewDiePie, for him.
“Any outdoor interests?” Daly asked. The boy said sometimes he and his friend used the pull-up bars in the park.
“Can you do a pull-up?” the detective asked.
“Yeah.”
“Good man.”
There was no problem with the boy taking breaks whenever he wanted, and there were several trips to the vending machine or shop to get him chewing gum or Ribena.
With the suspect put at ease, the next step, in line with Daly’s training, was to let the boy tell his story in his own words, without interruptions. Next he began to challenge the boy, gently at first, by highlighting the inconsistencies and improbabilities in his account.
“This is your opportunity,” Daly told him in a low voice. “Now is the time for the truth.”
Aside from boredom, and sometimes frustration, Boy B had so far displayed little emotion or distress. That changed as Daly and Gannon started to show him evidence from the abandoned house.
When Daly showed him a photograph of the crime scene with Ana’s body pixelated out, Boy B held his head in his hands and responded: “Jesus, one of my closest friends.” He quickly added he was referring to Boy A, not Ana.
“Wait a minute. Holy shit. Oh my God,” he said when shown a photograph of the insulation tape that had been wrapped around Ana’s neck. He told gardaí he had recently given the tape to Boy A.
Over the years detectives tend to pick up their own techniques for interviewing dishonest suspects. Some will pause suddenly at crucial moments, catching the suspect by surprise and throwing them off guard. Others like to refuse requests for a cigarette or glass of water until the suspect gives them new information. In some cases it makes sense to appeal to a suspect’s conscience. In others, vague insinuations about lengthy prison sentences are more effective.
In this case the boy’s age meant Daly was highly constrained, and had to be particularly careful not to use any tactics that a court might later view as oppressive or intimidating.
But, although it remained gentler than most murder interviews, by the fifth session the atmosphere in the room had changed drastically. Frustration was starting to creep into Daly’s voice; his tone suggested he was getting tired of the boy’s lies.
He never lost his temper, however. Instead he continued to urge the boy to come clean: “You owe it to everyone to start telling the truth here. You owe it to your mam, to yourself, to tell the truth, because unfortunately a girl has been brutally murdered.”
Although he had changed several important aspects of his story by that point, Boy B continued to deny any knowledge of what happened to Ana in the abandoned house.
The most important breakthrough came in the late afternoon of May 25th, about halfway through interview five. Daly had just informed the boy that they had a witness who saw a teenager they believed to be him walking through a field and towards the abandoned house. The boy admitted to going into the field to look around but insisted he went no farther.
Daly sighed. “You’re making this up as you go along, [Boy B,] I have to say. I’m presenting facts and evidence to you, and you’re changing your story to suit. You can’t keep doing this.”
There was a long pause before Boy B asked his mother to leave the room. Daly said this was not possible, as he was a minor and required a guardian at all times. His solicitor suggested they take a break, but Daly wanted to keep going. “I think we’re at a crucial point here. The truth, that’s all we want.”
Boy B took a deep breath before telling gardaí that Boy A went into the house with Ana. “I left, and that’s when I heard the scream, and then I ran,” he said. “It was a really strong scream. I knew that it was Ana, but since [Boy A] was there she’d be fine. He’d protect her. The scream was, like, really loud. Just before it ended it got muffled, like someone covered her mouth.”
After dozens of lies the boy had admitted for the first time to knowing something had happened to Ana. He started to weep, as did his mother. When the moment was played back in court, exactly a year later, Ana’s mother, Geraldine, would also weep. Much worse was to come.
Ana’s last day
Ana wasn’t very good at geography. One of the several ailments afflicting the young girl was a short-term memory problem, which made it difficult for her to recall all the terms she needed. In general Ana wasn’t academically inclined, her mother later said. Part of this was down to her having been adopted from Russia at the age of two, leaving her playing catch-up with her peers in English-language skills. Problems with her hearing compounded the issue.
There were exams the following week, so on the morning of Sunday, May 13th, 2018, Geraldine Kriégel planned to sit down with her daughter to help her study.
“No, Mam, you must be exhausted. We can do it later,” Ana told her mother. Geraldine agreed. There was to be a small family gathering later, but now they had a few hours to relax beforehand.
In the meantime Ana did one of her favourite things: watching movies with her mother and eating popcorn.
Later Geraldine ordered pizza for the party. Ana didn’t like pizza, so she walked into Leixlip and brought home a spice bag from a Chinese takeaway. Back at the house the children played while the adults had a drink in the conservatory.
At one stage Ana and her cousin went up to her room to make a YouTube video, another of her favourite hobbies. Like nearly every other teenager, Ana used a staggering number of social-media apps, including Instagram, Facebook, Snapchat and Houseparty. Her favourite was YouTube.
She would make videos about dancing, clothes and make-up for her 100 or so subscribers. Although the videos attracted many pleasant comments, they also brought poisonous barbs and even threats. One viewer told Ana to “go die”. Another said they would have her executed.
A short time later the family gathering ended; there was school the next day. Ana’s cousins were collected, and she went to bed at about 10.30pm.
Before going to sleep Ana asked her mother to wake her the next morning in time to say goodbye before she left for work. Like most teenagers, Ana liked to sleep in, but she had promised her parents she would try to get up earlier in the morning.
Geraldine Kriégel is a senior manager in the legal department of CIÉ, the State public-transport company. She was usually first up in the morning; her husband, Patric Kriégel, had retired from teaching French at Dublin Institute of Technology.
That morning Ana reminded her mother that she needed a note to get out of school at 2.30pm; she had a counselling appointment with Kildare Youth Services, which she attended once a week. Geraldine wrote the note, kissed Ana goodbye and left to get the train to Dublin, where she had a meeting.
Her daughter put on her school uniform, had a little breakfast and left sometime later.
The plan was for Ana to eat lunch at school before walking to counselling. But she decided to return home to eat before going to her appointment.
After counselling she came home, had a snack of some oven chips and went to her room. It was around this time she tried to phone her mother. The two frequently called or texted each other during the day. When Ana rang at 4.02pm, Geraldine was in a meeting and couldn’t answer. She texted her daughter to tell her she’d call shortly.
Patric was relaxing outside, taking in the May sunshine, when, at 4.55pm, he heard the doorbell. It was Boy B. He asked for Ana. When her father told her who was at the door, Ana was confused. She knew who the boy was, but they were by no means friends. Nonetheless she went down and spoke to him.
Patric saw Ana standing in the doorway, whispering to the boy. He didn’t find this unusual, he would later recall. “I think a lot of teens do it.”
She then ran back upstairs to get her hoody before telling Patric she was going out. Ana’s mother had bought the hoody for her online, from China. It was distinctive: black with writing down the sleeves. Within days most of Ireland would see photographs in newspapers and on television of Ana wearing it.
Patric reminded Ana about her exams and told her she was supposed to study that evening. Ana responded that nobody had told her this and that she wouldn’t be long.
“I believe she meant it. I knew from the way she was saying it that she meant exactly that,” Patric would later say.
Seconds after Ana left, Patric realised he had forgotten to ask where she was going. He went to the door and saw Ana walking towards St Catherine’s Park. The boy, who was carrying a small backpack, walked ahead of her. The two didn’t appear to be talking.
Although it was unusual for this boy to call for Ana, Patric was not overly concerned. “She was happy when she left. She gave me a big smile.”
Geraldine was on the train home at the time. She had been chatting to a friend who got off at Coolmine, in north Dublin, about 10 minutes before Geraldine’s stop, at about 5.10pm, finally giving her a chance to return Ana’s call from earlier. It went to voicemail. Geraldine didn’t leave a message, as she knew she would see Ana when she got home.
Normally she wouldn’t get home so early, but that day she had taken the train because of her meeting in Dublin. She found her husband in the back garden. He told her Ana had gone out with Boy B. “I became immediately concerned, because he has nothing to do with her,” Geraldine recalled later. “Nobody calls for Ana.”
‘Endlessly bullied’
To understand why Geraldine Kriégel was so concerned when she learned Ana had left the house with Boy B, it’s necessary to understand recent events in the teenager’s life.
Ana was savagely bullied inside and outside school. Above all she wanted friends her own age, friends who weren’t her cousins. But she had few.
Born in February 2004 in Novokuznetsk, an industrial city in western Siberia, Ana was adopted and brought to Ireland by Geraldine and Patric in 2006. She was their first child.
Despite having no link to Russia themselves, Ana’s parents made sure she retained some connection to her native culture. They kept her name, Anastasia, although everyone would shorten it to Ana. On the day she died her social-media profile picture was a Siberian wolf.
For most of primary school Ana was a happy pupil despite struggling with a variety of health issues.
Doctors found a tumour in her right ear that required a 5½-hour operation to remove. She could barely hear from that ear afterwards and would always walk or stand on people’s left side as a result. She had poor eyesight and a scar on the back of her head from the surgery, along with another on her chin from a time when she fell as a young child.
As she entered her teens she also suffered from a painful condition, sometimes seen in adolescents, that occurs when the bones grow faster than the muscles.
Emotional problems began to appear as primary school came to an end. On one occasion her parents were alerted that Ana had told a teacher she was feeling suicidal.
She was excited about going to secondary school, but her parents and teachers were worried. Ana’s resource teacher told Geraldine and Patric she was terrified for her, because she was so innocent. She feared other students would take advantage of this.
The parents met early with the management of the secondary school to highlight their concerns about Ana being a potential target for bullies.
In fact, the bullies didn’t even wait for her to start school. During the summer after sixth class Ana was bullied online by third-year students who sent her sexually suggestive messages.
Much of the bullying was about her height. Ana was “a typical Siberian”, her mother would later say in court, strong and tall. By the time she was 13 she was 173cm, or 5ft 8in, tall. “She looked much older than her years,” her mother said. “She could have passed for an 18-year-old.”
“She was taller than me,” Patric recalled with a smile.
The bullies also mocked the fact that she was adopted, telling her she had a “fake mam and dad”. Geraldine and Patric took screenshots of some of the messages and showed them to the school.
But the situation did not improve after she started secondary school. “She was endlessly bullied,” Geraldine said.
That Halloween Ana came home hysterical and terrified. She had been walking back after supervising a disco for young children (“she volunteered for everything,” Geraldine said) when four boys approached. One asked her repeatedly for sex before hitting her on the backside. A complaint was made to the Garda, and the boy received a caution.
Ana would walk for hours at a time, usually while listening to music on her distinctive blue headphones. She almost always walked alone. “You would see other girls walking in groups, and Ana would be walking alone,” Geraldine would tell the court.
Her parents painted a picture of a kind-hearted, innocent girl who craved friendship. She loved spending time at home with her family but longed for someone her own age to hang around with.
“People didn’t understand her. She was unique and full of fun,” Patric said. “She couldn’t hate anyone even though some of the people were bullying her. She was disappointed with people. That happened quite regularly. She tried to make friends but might say the wrong thing. She was a teenager.”
He said Ana started to act out in worrying ways. There were fights at school, one of which resulted in a suspension. One day she painted a black eye on herself before going into school.
“It was attention seeking. For me it was an expression of pain she suffered on the inside,” Geraldine said.
“She said she felt invisible,” said Patric.
At one point it was discovered that Ana had set up fake social-media accounts that she was using to send bullying messages to herself. From then on she had to give all the passwords to her apps to Geraldine, who would check her phone every night.
“She didn’t like it, but she knew if she didn’t I would take the phone,” her mother said. Shortly before Ana’s death Geraldine found a photograph on the phone of her blindfolded and tied to a chair. Ana told her mother it was part of a prank. She and another girl were pretending she was in trouble, to see if another boy would come and rescue her.
As Ana’s emotional problems grew, her parents felt she needed some outside support. They approached Kildare Youth Services, which initially said it couldn’t see Ana, because she had self-harmed. Ana had recently cut her arm with a scissors; her parents believed she did it in imitation of a boy she knew.
She was referred to Pieta House, the charity that helps people who self-harm or are in suicidal distress, where she did well. Staff there judged her as being at a very low risk of suicide. They had to ring Patric and get him to pick her up from the sessions, as the prospect of being bullied made her scared to walk home alone.
After six sessions at Pieta House she was accepted by Kildare Youth Services, the volunteer-supported organisation she was attending at the time of her murder.
Ana did have a handful of friends, including a girl who would call over for sleepovers and to watch films. But she was certainly not friends with Boy B, something Geraldine was well aware of when she returned home on Monday, May 14th.
The search
Shortly after 5.30pm Geraldine texted her daughter a two-word message: “Home now”. There was no response. She talked it over with Patric before sending another message a few minutes later: “Answer me now or I’m calling the police.” The part about the police was just to get Ana’s attention, Geraldine later explained.
She was conflicted. She knew Ana had only been gone for half an hour, and felt like a “paranoid mother”, but she was extremely worried.
Geraldine walked to the park. She could see children playing and adults walking their dogs, but she saw no sign of Ana.
After dinner she went out looking for her in the car, driving around local estates. Ana loved to go for long walks, so she could have been anywhere in the area.
Once she got home, Geraldine and Patric went on Facebook to find out Boy B’s surname. They knew him vaguely but had no idea where he lived or who his parents were. Geraldine rang around, trying to find out his address, but without success.
She and Patric went to the house of John Cribbin, a friend who is a retired detective, for advice. He told them to go straight to the Garda. At that point Ana had been gone for four hours.
The parents went to Leixlip Garda station, where Geraldine explained it was highly unusual for Ana not to get in touch. She told gardaí her daughter was a communicator. “She would always respond. Even if she said she was not talking to you she would respond, to tell you she wasn’t talking to you.” Ana’s Irish and Russian passports were still at home, and she hadn’t eaten since lunch, Geraldine added.
Gardaí took her seriously, but there was no reason to be immediately concerned. Every week the Garda receives dozens of reports of missing children; the vast majority turn up within a few hours.
The first job for gardaí was to visit the house of Boy B after locating his address on their Pulse computer system.
Garda Conor Muldoon went to the house that evening. Boy B told him that he had called for Ana that day, that they had walked in the park and that he had left her company there at 5.40pm. It was the first of dozens of lies he would tell investigators.
The next day Ana’s family got up early to resume the search. Joined by friends and family, they walked the local area and spoke to anyone they could think of who might know where Ana was. By now gardaí were also worried, and a missing-person investigation began in earnest. Sgt John Dunne was tasked with returning to Boy B’s house to question him further. This time Boy B told the garda he had called for Ana the previous day on behalf of his friend Boy A.
Ana had a crush on Boy A, but he wasn’t interested, and he wanted to meet up with her to tell her, Boy B said. He said he brought Ana to the park, where she met Boy A, before leaving them and returning to his house to do his homework.
Dunne brought Boy B to the park, so the teenager could show him exactly where he went with Ana. Boy B showed the garda where they had entered the park, where they had met Boy A and where he had left the two of them to talk. The garda marked all of these locations using the GPS function on his Tetra radio before dropping the boy home.
Meanwhile a Garda family-liaison officer was appointed to keep Ana’s family informed about the search. Standard procedure at this stage was to issue a media appeal. Ana’s parents provided some photographs of their daughter, including one of her wearing the distinctive black-and-white hoody.
It was in the late afternoon of Tuesday, May 15th, when the wider public first learned Ana Kriégel’s name.
“Gardaí are seeking the public’s help in tracing 14-year-old Anastasia Kriegel, who was last seen at her home in Leixlip, Co Kildare, at 5pm on Monday the 14th of May 2018,” the press release said. “Anastasia is described as 5’8”, black shoulder length hair, sallow skin and slim build.”
The Garda sends out missing-person alerts almost daily. The week before Ana’s death it issued three, all relating to teenagers. All three of those young people were later found safe and well.
After the appeal about Ana went out potential leads began to pour in, all of which the Garda had to follow up.
One caller said he had seen her in Dundrum, in south Dublin. Another told gardaí they had seen her in the departure area of Dublin Airport. One of the more promising leads came from a local woman who said her daughter had seen Ana on the morning of May 15th by a nearby cul-de-sac. Gardaí followed up and discovered that a school friend lived on the cul-de-sac and that he hadn’t attended school that day. But a search of the boy’s house revealed nothing, and the lead turned out to be a dead end.
Back in Lucan, Dunne and his colleagues continued to comb the area. After walking the park with Boy B the garda decided to search the railway line, but he found nothing. As Dunne was walking back he was stopped by a man and his son. The man had heard about Ana going missing and suggested the garda check the back of the local sewage-treatment plant, as teenagers tended to hang around there.
It was only later that day Dunne realised this man was Boy A’s father and the teen with him was Boy A.
At that stage both boys were being treated as witnesses, not suspects. Gardaí had no reason to believe they had hurt Ana or even that Ana had been hurt at all. But, because they were the last ones to have seen her, any information they could provide was vital.
On Tuesday afternoon a decision was taken to bring Boy B back to the park, this time with Boy A.
The boys led the way as Dunne and Sgt Aonghus Hussey followed with Boy A’s father. As they walked Dunne noticed Boy B was leading them on a different route from one he showed them earlier.
The boys came to a stop on a path near the BMX track in the park. Dunne and Hussey both saw them exchange what they would later describe as a glance or look. It was the first indication the boys weren’t telling the Garda everything. It was decided formal statements should be taken, so they could clarify their exact movements.
Both boys were taken to Lucan Garda station with their parents.
Boy B told gardaí the same story he gave earlier. “I have no clue what happened to her,” he said, adding that the first time he heard something was wrong was when gardaí called to his door the night before.
Boy A gave a detailed statement about his movements. He said Boy B was one of his best friends and had called to his house after school. Boy A was doing his chores, so they arranged to meet in the park in a while. When Boy B arrived there he was with Ana, a girl he knew from school, but “not that well”.
He told gardaí: “At one stage Ana said to me, ‘I have something to ask you. I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me.’ I was surprised. It came out of nowhere. I kind of knew she liked me, because she kind of asked me out [before].”
He said he wanted to tell her “gently” that he didn’t want to go out with her. “I said, ‘I’m sorry, but I’m not interested’. She didn’t answer. She said nothing. She walked off. She looked annoyed and sad at the same time.”
By this stage Boy B had also left, Boy A said. He walked on alone until he was attacked by “two males”. One grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him to the ground; then both started kicking him, he claimed.
The attack ended when Boy A “got up and kicked one of them in the head”, causing both to flee. Gardaí were somewhat sceptical of the story. The boy did have injuries consistent with an assault – his arm and leg were injured, and his face was cut – but his account didn’t feel right.
In particular, his description of defeating his attacker with a kick to the head sounded more like teenage fantasy than reality.
Nevertheless gardaí were assigned to investigate the alleged assault. Boy A was taken to Garda headquarters, in Phoenix Park in Dublin, where he helped investigators compile a photofit of the attackers. None of the witnesses in the park that day saw anybody matching the photofit. CCTV cameras also failed to pick up anyone matching the description.
The following day, Wednesday, May 16th, the search was kicked up a gear. There were now serious concerns that Ana may have been harmed or even killed.
Insp Mark O’Neill of Lucan Garda station was assigned to lead the missing-person investigation, and all members coming on duty in stations in north Dublin and Kildare were briefed. Specialist search teams were brought in, including the Garda subaqua unit, which searched the River Liffey and other bodies of water in the area. The Civil Defence provided 60 members to aid in the operation. The Garda crime and security branch was asked to analyse mobile-phone traffic, to try to track Ana’s movements.
A mannequin or ‘something terrible’
Her body was found in an abandoned farmhouse on May 17th, 2018.
Glenwood House was built around 1800; some say it was designed by James Gandon, the architect of the Custom House and the Four Courts, on the Liffey in Dublin. The handsome farmhouse sits on just over 40 hectares, or 100 acres, of farmland at the edge of St Catherine’s Park, on the Lucan-Clonee road, in an area known locally as Coldblow.
It was home to the Colgan family until the last decades of the 20th century, before being abandoned entirely.
The subsequent years were not kind to Glenwood. Despite being a protected structure because of its architectural significance, the house was effectively a ruin by May 2018. Bottles and cans littered the floors, the result of the house’s popularity with local teenagers looking to avoid the prying eyes of parents and gardaí. The roof had collapsed in several places, and several rooms had been gutted by fire.
The house continued its decline even after it was bought, in the early 2000s, by a company linked to the hotelier Noel O’Callaghan, for €10.5 million. In recent years the company has been trying to get planning permission to turn it into a 62-bed nursing home, a plan welcomed by most locals, who despaired that the once-fine structure had become an eyesore.*
One group, Old Lucan, appealed to locals in January 2018 to contact Fingal County Council and ask it to enforce the building’s protected-structure status. There has been no update on the campaign or the owner’s attempts to repurpose Glenwood since April 2018.
“We all know what happened there,” one member of the Old Lucan group wrote on its Facebook page recently. “Once the trial is over it should be knocked down and so should the adjacent buildings.”
On the morning of Thursday, May 17th, 2018, Sgt Declan Birchall and his specially trained four-person search team were deployed to an area of Lucan that included part of St Catherine’s Park and Glenwood House.
Working from maps, and using a grid system, the team methodically searched the park, including all its hedgerows and ditches. Once they got to the large field beside the park they used slash hooks to clear the way.
Glenwood House stood at the end of the field. Birchall, like most local gardaí, was familiar with the building, having responded to reports of teenagers messing there over the years.
Birchall searched the outbuildings while his colleague Garda Sean White went into the main house through the rear porch. At the end of one of the corridors, at the front of the house, White looked into what would later be designated as Room 1.
It was dark inside. The windows were boarded up, and the only light came from a hole in one of the planks over the glass. In the gloom White thought he could make out a figure. He could definitely smell dried blood. The garda would later tell a colleague he believed he was looking at either a mannequin “or something terrible”.
He called out but got no response. In line with his training, he stepped into the room to confirm what he thought he had seen, then left and called for assistance.
Birchall rushed into the house when he heard White shout “Find”, to indicate he had located something of significance.
As the search team leader he entered Room 1 to confirm what White believed he had seen. Inside was Ana Kriégel’s body, naked except for her black socks.
At first Birchall believed something was covering Ana’s face. When he leaned closer he realised it was her hair, which he said was stuck to her face as if she had been “thrashing” it around.
Her clothing and pieces of her iPhone were scattered around the room. Nearby were a cement block and a large stick, both of which were bloodstained. There was also blood staining on the walls and on the carpeted floor. The blood had clearly come from the many wounds on the girl’s body.
A long length of Tescon insulation tape was partially wrapped around her neck. She had three fingers inside the tape, as if she was trying to get it off.
Gardaí quickly established a crime scene while they awaited the arrival of Supt John Gordon, from Lucan Garda station. A local GP was called to formally pronounce death, and within an hour the Kriégel family had been told by their Garda liaison officer that Ana’s body had been found. They were told they would have to go to the morgue that evening, to make a formal identification.
The missing-person investigation immediately became a murder investigation, and Insp O’Neill was appointed senior investigating officer, with 20 gardaí working under him. For now his job would be to marshal the many forensic and technical experts who would file in and out of Glenwood House for the next several days.
Every inch of Room 1 would be examined and catalogued, along with every beer can, cigarette butt and piece of debris it contained.
The most pressing task was the pathology exam. The State pathologist, Prof Marie Cassidy (she has since retired), visited the location before overseeing the transport of the body by hearse to the State Laboratory, in Whitehall in north Dublin, for a full autopsy that evening.
Ana had a staggering number of injuries. During the trial Cassidy would spend about 40 minutes just listing the 50 injury sites. There were bruises and lacerations all over the body, the most serious to Ana’s head, face and neck.
Cassidy concluded Ana had died from blunt-force trauma to the head and neck. There were also signs of compression to her neck, but there was no evidence the tape had caused this.
Other injuries suggested there had been penetration, or attempted penetration, of the vagina with something, but Cassidy could not determine what that something was. She also couldn’t tell if Ana had been conscious at the time.
On the basis of the pathology and forensic evidence, the Garda suspected Ana had been beaten to the ground with a heavy stick shortly after entering the room, then hit four times with a heavy object such as a concrete block.
Next she was pulled towards the window, where there was more light. It was likely here she was sexually assaulted. Her false nails scattered around the room indicated she had fought her attacker fiercely.
Despite the huge amount of forensic material at the scene nothing immediately pointed towards a suspect. All the fingerprints and blood belonged to Ana. But scientists from Forensic Science Ireland made a grim breakthrough when they examined Ana’s top and discovered semen stains.
The focus of the investigation immediately returned to the two boys. The discrepancies in their accounts meant gardaí already had enough reason to suspect them, but they wanted to wait for forensic proof that at least one of them was at the scene. That came a few days later, when Forensic Science Ireland reported that Ana’s blood was found on Boy A’s boots, which had already been taken by gardaí investigating the allegation that he had been assaulted by two men in the park.
As part of the assault investigation gardaí had also taken the boy’s phone. On it they found more cause to suspect he was behind Ana’s death. The phone contained a screenshot of a list of Youtube videos, including “The 15 most gruesome torture methods in history”, “Horror films that will blow everything away” and “Until Dawn – Get Jessica’s clothes off”; Until Dawn seemed to be a reference to a popular horror video game. There was also a result for Jeff the Killer, a widely shared short story about a teenager who murders his family.
On their own these results could have been interpreted as reflecting the macabre but not entirely unexpected interests of a young teenage boy. But for gardaí the presence of another search result, for “abandoned places in Lucan”, put things in a different light.
Arrest, interview and charge
A week after Ana’s body was found gardaí were granted a warrant to arrest both boys.
From the very beginning of the investigation concessions were made for their age; some were required by law, others were at the discretion of the Garda, lawyers and judges.
Both boys’ parents were informed on the evening of May 23rd their sons would be arrested the following day. The parents were asked to bring them to the Garda station in the morning. But they were not told their homes would be searched immediately after the arrests.
Insp O’Neill told his team they were to carry these out with the utmost discretion. Gardaí used rental cars instead of patrol cars to get there. They wore plain clothes and put their evidence bags in black sacks before they were taken out of the houses.
After he was arrested Boy A was interviewed at Clondalkin Garda station, in west Dublin, in the company of his father and their solicitor Donough Molloy. As they had done with Boy B, gardaí started by asking him if he knew the difference between right and wrong.
“Leaving the door open for somebody” is right; “tripping somebody up” or stealing a chocolate bar is wrong, Boy A told Det Gardaí Marcus Roantree and Tomas Doyle.
He explained the difference between truth and lies by saying: “Truth is if you tell somebody what happened. A lie is if you don’t tell somebody what happened.”
Asked about his interests, Boy A said he liked “anatomy, the human body” and “inner life, the skeleton”. He said he liked anatomical drawing. The detectives asked if he liked drawing live people. “No, more evolutionary”, he responded.
During interview two Boy A gave gardaí much the same story they had heard from Boy B, that he had met Ana in the park that day but was not with her in the lead-up to the time she was reported missing.
When he was shown CCTV footage, he said at one point that two people caught on camera could have been the ones who beat him up. “That might be good news,” he said. “Is there any more footage?” Those figures were actually Boy B and Ana.
Det Garda Doyle then told the boy that Ana’s blood was found on his boots. “Are you joking me?” Boy A asked. “You can’t be serious.”
The interview paused after Boy A asked for some air. His solicitor asked if he was going to be sick, and one of the gardaí got him a glass of water.
When questioning resumed Doyle said: “What I’m saying to you is the only place you could have got the blood on your boots was in that room, so were you in that room?” “No,” he replied.
The detectives showed Boy A a photograph of the tape around Ana’s neck. Boy A said he had never had any tape like that.
Asked about the search results on his phone, Boy A said the torture-methods result came up when he was searching for horror films online. He said he wasn’t interested in torture films.
Despite being presented with strong forensic evidence, Boy A did not admit any involvement in the murder. Most of his responses were of the “no comment” or “I don’t know” type.
Detectives were disappointed. The forensics were strong, but without admissions Boy A might be able to claim that he acted in self-defence or that he never meant to kill Ana.
Nine kilometres away in Finglas the interviews with Boy B were going much better for gardaí. After eventually telling them during his fifth interview that he heard Ana scream, the boy gradually admitted more and more.
This culminated in Boy B telling Daly and Gannon that Ana had gone into Room 1 with Boy A. Despite being told to leave by Boy A, Boy B decided to explore the rest of the house. Then the sound of “shuffling” made him run to Room 1, where he saw Boy A “kind of flip” Ana. He described a judo-type move to the detectives.
Boy A started to choke her and pull off her clothes, he said. Ana was crying and saying: “No, no. Don’t do this.”
He said at this point both Boy A and Ana turned to look at him in the doorway, which made him run away. Boy A had a “blank look on his face”, he said.
It still wasn’t the truth, but it was as close as the detectives could get in the limited time for which they could detain Boy B.
The detectives, who were being advised by a specialist from the Garda national bureau of criminal investigation, wondered if Boy B’s account could be used to get Boy A talking over in Clondalkin. Perhaps Boy A would realise all the blame was being put on him and want to defend himself.
A few of the most relevant pages of Boy B’s fifth interview were copied and printed before being sent across town to Roantree and Doyle.
In their sixth and final interview, the detectives read the pages to Boy A before asking if there was anything he wanted to add.
“[Boy B] is lying. That is all,” the boy replied.
On the afternoon of Thursday, May 25th, 10 days after Ana’s murder, an official from the Office of the Director of Public Prosecutions called Insp O’Neill and gave permission for Boy A to be charged with murder.
The charge was put to him at 4.01pm at Clondalkin Garda station, just before the 24-hour limit for questioning expired. Neither he nor his father, who was also present, made any reply.
An hour later he was brought in a Garda van, in the company of his parents, to the Children Court, in Smithfield in Dublin, his first court appearance of many.
Gardaí normally announce arrests in murder investigations shortly after they occur, particularly in high-profile cases. But here they made an exception. The arrest of the boys was not made public until just before Boy A was due in court. At the time gardaí said they were concerned about vigilante behaviour against the boys’ families. Local gardaí would later mount discreet extra patrols to ensure the families’ safety.
The Children Court is a bleak grey-and-brown stone building on the corner of Smithfield Square. Inside and up the stairs are two cramped courtrooms, although usually only one is in use. Every day a stream of children pass through the court, usually on relatively minor charges to do with public order, drug possession and theft.
Jail terms are rare, and the vast majority of defendants enter early guilty pleas. The Children Court is effectively a District Court, the lowest tier of the criminal-justice system. As at a District Court, there is no jury, and a judge may impose a maximum 12-month sentence for any one offence.
So Boy A’s case was never going to stay there. The legislation requires Children Court judges to transfer murder and rape cases to the Central Criminal Court, where children accused of such crimes are effectively tried as adults. A full jury hears the case, and the judge has a much wider array of sentencing powers.
Fifteen minutes after the Garda van arrived at Smithfield, Boy A appeared in the courtroom with his parents. Also packed into the room were two solicitors, two detectives, three journalists and Judge John O’Connor.
The judge told the boy’s mother she could sit beside him if she wished. His grandfather entered a short time later and was granted permission to stay.
Asked by Judge O’Connor if it was his first time in court, the boy replied “yes”.
At that early stage the priority for the boy’s family was getting bail. Oberstown Children Detention Campus, in Lusk in north Co Dublin, is the only facility in the State for holding underage detainees. It is not a particularly pleasant place for anyone, but a sheltered 13-year-old with no criminal record was likely to find it especially tough.
As a District Court judge, O’Connor had no power to grant bail in murder cases. The boy would have to apply to the High Court at a later date. The judge remanded Boy A to Oberstown, allowing him a few moments with his parents before departing. The boy looked confused as he was ushered out of the courtroom. He walked with a pronounced limp.
The evidence against Boy A accumulated quickly once he was charged. During the search of his house gardaí found a backpack in his bedroom containing gloves, knee pads, shinguards, a scarf-like “snood” and a home-made mask. This would soon become known among investigators as the “murder kit”.
The skull-like mask would become one of the most striking pieces of evidence in the case. Skin coloured, it covered only the top half of the face. Eye and nose holes had been cut out, and sharp teeth had been cut into the upper jaw and painted red. Ana’s blood was found on the inside and outside of the mask, as well as on the knee pads, gloves and backpack.
The gloves were particularly important to the Garda case, as they explained why no fingerprints were found at the scene.
An examination of two phones found in Boy A’s bedroom revealed almost 12,500 images, the vast majority of which were pornographic. One featured a man in a balaclava looking at a semi-naked woman; another showed a man choke a woman as a second man watched.
The phones’ memories showed several pornographic videos had been accessed online, including one with a title referring to a woman called Anastasia. Another referred to Russian teens.
Perhaps even more concerning was evidence of searches for “child porn”, “horse porn” and “dead boy prank in abandoned haunted school”. When the trial started, the following year, none of these details would be heard by the jury.
Gardaí also found witnesses to bolster their case against Boy A. A dog walker had said he saw a boy roughly matching his description “making a beeline” for the abandoned house on May 14th. A school friend told them Boy A appeared agitated and fidgety in the days after Ana went missing.
When the analysis of the semen on Ana’s top showed it matched Boy A’s DNA, the Garda got permission to charge him with aggravated sexual assault; the aggravated part referred to the extreme violence involved. The new evidence also allowed them to rearrest Boy B for further questioning.
Boy B was arrested again by appointment on July 8th and brought to Lucan Garda station, where he was interviewed another three times by Daly and Gannon. Daly went through the same procedure as before, gently coaxing the boy to reveal more about what happened that day.
This time Boy B said his coaccused wore the mask, which he described as a zombie mask, when he attacked Ana. He described it as a “really cool” mask that Boy A had made the previous Halloween.
Boy B gave gardaí some more details about what he did and saw, including that he had entered the house alone first and picked up a stick there. But he continued to deny any involvement in the attack.
He also told gardaí of a conversation he had with Boy A the month before Ana’s murder. He described the conversation as going like this:
Boy A: “Hey, want to kill somebody?”
Boy B: “No”.
Boy A: “Ah here, why not?”
Boy B: “Because it’s retarded.”
Boy A: “Oh, come on.”
Boy B: “Who are you planning on killing?”
Boy A: “Ana Kriégel”.
Boy B: “In your dreams”.
Boy B said he presumed that his friend was messing and that he always said things like that. He repeated that he had no idea what his friend was planning on May 14th.
“Why didn’t you do anything in the room?” Daly asked.
“Because I was scared. I was shocked. I didn’t know what to do, because my brain was frozen, frozen in place. I didn’t know what to do.”
He lied to gardaí the day after Ana went missing because he was “just trying to forget about it and pretend nothing happened”.
“Did you not think you owed it to Ana and her family?” Daly asked.
The boy replied he was scared of being framed by Boy A.
He said he was ashamed of not helping Ana that day.
“But you could have saved her,” the detective said.
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you try and save her?”
“I don’t know.”
Daly accused the boy of telling “lie after lie after lie”, telling him: “You go and collect a girl that [Boy A] wants to kill, and you bring her to an abandoned house and you, in your words, ‘hand over’ that girl to [Boy A], the girl he said he wanted to kill.
“And then you were deceptive afterwards. You lie to everybody. Lie, lie, lie. You’re in a corner and you try to wriggle out of it by telling a story to suit. Do you see how this looks for you?”
Boy B said that he did. Det Garda Daly put it to Boy B that he let “a charade” play out in the days after Ana went missing, as people searched for her while he knew she was in the abandoned house.
“I didn’t know he would murder her,” Boy B said. “I kept thinking to myself, This isn’t real, this isn’t happening. I kept thinking, Boy A wouldn’t do this, it’s not like him.”
The detectives suspected that Boy B still wasn’t telling the whole truth, but they had to either charge or release him. He was released while the Office of the Director of Public Prosecutions considered the matter. Four days later Boy B was rearrested and charged with Ana’s murder. He made no reply.
Bail
In the Children Court that day he addressed the hearing twice, once to confirm he had never been in court before and once to ask if he could go to the bathroom. Like his coaccused, he would have to apply to the High Court for bail.
Proceedings moved remarkably quickly once the accused were charged. There is usually a delay of between 18 and 24 months between the point of charge and the beginning of a murder trial. Legal issues can mean it takes much longer.
The speed in this case was almost unheard of, especially for a trial involving a long list of witnesses and a huge amount of forensic and CCTV evidence. In the back offices of Garda stations orders came down that work on the Kriégel case was to be prioritised. Analysis took days rather than weeks, and restrictions on overtime were eased. Forensic Science Ireland staff came in on evenings and at weekends to work on the case.
Later the Central Criminal Court would be asked to clear a non-negotiable four weeks for the trial in the first half of 2019.
Part of the reason for the speed of proceedings is that, at first, it looked as if the accused might not be granted bail before the trial. The authorities did not want to keep such young children, who like everybody else enjoyed the presumption of innocence, locked up for longer than necessary.
Boy A would spend more than two months in custody before being granted bail, in the High Court, on August 2nd.
The social-justice charity Extern, which the courts often use in complex cases, was asked to support and supervise the boy, to ensure he complied with the bail conditions.
Boy B spent just over a month in custody before being granted bail, on August 21st.
Both children would be free, albeit heavily supervised, until the start of their trial, in April this year.
Trial preparations
The legal age of criminal responsibility in Ireland is 12, but this drops to 10 when rape or murder is alleged. At 13, Boys A and B became the youngest people in the history of the State to be charged with murder.
Planning for the trial began at an early stage, with Mr Justice Paul McDermott assigned to hear it. Brendan Grehan SC, a criminal barrister with huge experience in high-profile trials such as those of the former Anglo Irish Bank chief executive David Drumm and the serial killer Mark Nash, would lead the case for the State.
The judge and barristers would wear neither wigs nor robes, and the accused would be allowed to sit beside their parents in the public gallery. The boys and their families would also be allowed to enter and exit the Criminal Courts of Justice, on Parkgate Street in central Dublin, through side entrances, and separate rooms would be provided for each of them where they could unwind and consult with lawyers during court downtime.
In accordance with the Children Act the general public would not be permitted at the trial, to protect the accuseds’ identities and to make the courtroom less intimidating.
Bona-fide journalists would be permitted in court. The murder and the investigation had attracted huge public interest, and the prosecution feared the court would be packed with reporters, negating any efforts to minimise the intimidating atmosphere.
They considered asking for a cap on the number of journalists permitted in court. Allowing them to view proceedings via video link, from another room, was also considered. In the end, the media would be asked to keep their numbers down, with the implication that the court would intervene if necessary.
Guilty pleas are extremely rare in murder trials, as the offence carries an automatic life sentence, no matter what approach the accused takes. As there is no sentencing discount for a guilty plea, defendants reason that they have little to lose by taking a chance on a trial. Even if the evidence is damning they may be acquitted on a technicality or because of an investigative deficiency.
The dynamic changes if the accused is a minor. The Children Act is silent on whether the automatic life sentence applies to children convicted of murder, but the prevailing legal opinion is that it does not and that judges may impose a lesser sentence if appropriate.
Before the trial Boy A’s lawyers concentrated on applying to have the indictment severed, which is to say having Boy A tried separately from Boy B. They reasoned that the jury was bound to be prejudiced against their client by hearing Boy B repeatedly accuse him, during his interviews, of attacking Ana.
The interviews of one defendant cannot be used against a coaccused. Boy A’s defence team argued that the jurors could not help but be influenced by the content of the interviews, even if they were warned it was irrelevant to the case against their client.
Their application before McDermott failed. “It would be a distortion of the factual background if the entire factual matrix of what happened in the lead-up to the death of Ms Kriégel was not set out in full to the jury,” the judge ruled, on April 12th. He said he would give jurors strong warnings about not relying on Boy B’s interviews when considering the case against Boy A.
Compared with Boy A, Boy B’s defence was much easier to predict. No forensic evidence linked him to the murder scene. In fact, the vast majority of the evidence against him came from his own mouth during his eight Garda interviews. If he had remained silent he would probably never have been charged.
The priority for Boy B’s defence was to minimise the damage done in those interviews, particularly by the many lies he had told detectives. Gardaí had stuck rigidly to the rules when questioning the boy, meaning there was little chance of getting the interviews excluded from the trial for the officers’ having been in any way coercive or oppressive.
In early 2019 his legal team asked Dr Colm Humphries, an experienced psychologist specialising in childhood trauma, to examine Boy B and the interview tapes. Having done so, Humphries diagnosed the boy with post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD, as a result of witnessing the attack on Ana.
This PTSD contributed to the boy telling the gardaí untruths in an effort to protect himself, he wrote. The doctor said it was his opinion that Boy B had no knowledge of what was going to happen to Ana that day. He said the boy was sexually naive and had gone to the house with Ana and Boy A in the hope of watching them “snogging”.
The defence planned to call Humphries as a witness to explain that Boy B’s lies were the result of trauma rather than an effort to hide his guilt.
Calling him as a witness carried a risk, however. During Boy B’s sessions with the doctor he had given him information about what he saw in the abandoned house that day, information he had failed to give the Garda.
The boy told the doctor he saw Boy A standing over Ana with his trousers open during the attack. And that he saw Ana gasping before going silent.
If Humphries gave defence evidence he would likely be open to cross-examination on these matters, reinforcing the notion that Boy B continued to lie to gardaí up to his final interview.
The trial
It is not unusual for families of murder victims to sit through the trial of the accused. Often at least one family member remains in court for nearly all of the case, perhaps taking breaks during some of the more abstruse legal argument.
Few spend as much time in court as Geraldine and Patric Kriégel. Ana’s parents, accompanied by a victim-support volunteer, were present for every moment of the trial, from the swearing of the first juror to the final verdict.
When they wanted some water they would ask someone else to get it for them from the nearby canteen rather than leave court themselves. Geraldine took notes constantly, except when she held her husband’s hand during some of the more distressing evidence.
Pathology evidence can often be the most upsetting evidence for families to hear. But Geraldine and Patric remained throughout the testimony of Prof Marie Cassidy as she dispassionately described the autopsy process and the injuries inflicted on Ana. (Boys A and B were both excused from court that day because of the graphic nature of the evidence.)
There were several moments when emotion was visible.
A portion of Boy B’s interview during which he made a series of childish but nasty comments about Ana visibly distressed her parents. He said Ana was an outcast. She didn’t have a boyfriend and dressed in “slutty” clothes, he said. “I thought of Ana like a weirdo. Someone I should not be around.”
His description of seeing Boy A attack Ana in the house also upset her parents a great deal.
The accused sat beside one or both of their parents during the seven weeks of evidence. But they sat in different parts of the courtroom from each other and were never seen interacting.
During the lunch break they would go to the consultation rooms on either side of the entrance to court 9 while a family member fetched their lunch from the canteen.
In court Boy A often rested his head on his father’s shoulder. Boy B held his mother’s hand almost constantly.
The judge insisted on 15-minute breaks every hour or so. These were for the boys’ benefit but were probably just as appreciated by everyone else in court, especially on stuffy late-May afternoons.
The only major interruption came on the afternoon of day 15 of the trial, when a note was handed to the lawyers saying Boy B was having a panic attack. An ambulance was called, and court was adjourned for the day.
Boy B was treated at the scene and seen by his GP that evening. The incident occurred as the jury watched videos of Boy B’s Garda interviews during which he admitted lying to gardaí. No reason was given for the panic attack.
There was another interruption earlier in the day, when the defence had complained about someone in court staring at Boy B’s family at length and said it was distressing them.
From then on, the court day concluded at 2pm rather than 4.15pm. The new timetable would add at least a week to the trial but avoided the even lengthier delays that would have resulted from repeat medical issues.
It was decided at an early stage that the jurors would not come from the general panel that is called in the Criminal Courts of Justice every Monday to hear the week’s rape and murder trials. Instead a specially convened panel was brought in on Tuesday, April 29th.
The judge gave the jurors the usual warnings, such as not serving if they knew the parties in the case. Reading from a carefully prepared script, he also warned them the evidence was likely to be distressing.
Jurors were also advised they would be subject to criminal sanction if they disclosed the accused’s identities outside of court. This warning applied to everyone else as well, the judge said.
The warnings seemed to do their job; it appears the identities of the boys have to date not been shared publicly online.
During jury selection each side is allowed to object to seven jurors without explaining why. All three legal teams used this right liberally. The result was a jury of eight men and four women, all of them in at least middle age.
Ana’s parents were among the first witnesses to be called by Brendan Grehan, the prosecution counsel. As well as taking the jury through Ana’s last two days, Geraldine and Patric humanised her. Their descriptions of Ana’s personality and hobbies made her a real presence in the courtroom rather than an abstract piece of evidence. The jurors would never see any photographs of Ana alive, but they would have a clear picture of her in their minds.
Grehan also elicited detailed evidence of the bullying Ana suffered and the distress it caused her. The point was to show she was vulnerable and easily taken advantage of by the accused, he said.
Geraldine and Patric clearly found giving evidence emotional, but neither sought to make speeches or cast blame while in the witness box.
Their testimony was clear and calm. There was little hint of anger. The same was true for all four of the accused boys’ parents. All gave evidence of their interactions with the accused before and after Ana’s death, but none sought to use the witness box to proclaim the boys’ innocence. The furthest any of them went was Boy B’s father, who said his son was not capable of a crime like this.
Slowly but surely technology is becoming an intrinsic part of running a trial, and the trial of Boys A and B used it more than most. The seven child witnesses in the case gave evidence via video link from another room in the building, sparing them the distress and distraction of facing a live courtroom.
In the past the use of video link has been plagued by technical problems, with technicians often struggling to get the picture or sound working while a bemused jury looks on. It would seem those days are gone; all the children were able to give their evidence without interruption.
A significant amount of CCTV was played to the jury by Garda Seamus Timmins. Nothing new there, except in this trial the location of CCTV cameras was shown concurrently on a digital map of the area, making it easy for jurors to determine where exactly the accused were when captured on film. Grehan would play this footage again when making his closing speech.
Also helpful was the use of a computer-generated 3D model of Glenwood House, which was created by Forensic Science Ireland and the Garda photography and mapping units.
The locations of objects such as the suspected murder weapons and Ana’s clothes, as well as of the blood spatters, were shown in the model beside their photographs. It gave the jury the closest possible sense of being at the scene without having to visit the house.
The 3D modelling programme has been used just once before, in the 2017 prosecution of two brothers for murder. Ironically, during that trial Grehan, who was defending one of the accused, objected to the use of the 3D model on the basis of its being untested.
For such a complex case, involving so many strains of evidence, the trial was conducted with remarkable efficiency.
Defence concessions in several aspects in the case, including the lawfulness of the boys’ custody and the gathering of evidence, meant many potential Garda witnesses were not required to give evidence.
Those Garda witnesses who were called often spent only a few minutes in the box. Early in the trial, five or six witnesses were sometimes called in a single day.
Part of the reason for the pace was the lack of cross-examination from the defence. More often than not, Patrick Gageby, for Boy A, and Damien Colgan, for Boy B, declined to ask the witnesses any questions.
This made it difficult to discern the nature of the boys’ defence until very late in the case, but some of the few questions counsel posed gave a little insight into their strategy.
Gageby asked Geraldine Kriégel if her daughter was sexually active. She replied that she wasn’t, a point confirmed by later medical evidence.
Colgan asked Prof Cassidy if someone who witnessed that attack on Ana would be traumatised. She agreed that they would be.
Det Gardaí Daly and Gannon were questioned at length by Colgan about the way they interviewed Boy B. Gardaí didn’t bring in specialist interviewers or give the boy regular breaks, counsel said. The detectives replied that they stuck to the rules and that the boy’s mother was with him at all times.
In the absence of the jury
Much of the defence work focused on persuading the judge to include evidence that was favourable to the accused while excluding evidence that painted them in a negative light.
For Boy A, the most important evidence to exclude was the forensics. Gageby argued that the testing of his client’s boots, on which Ana’s blood was found, was inadmissible, as gardaí had taken the boots under false pretenses. He submitted that gardaí had pretended to take the boots to investigate his claim of being assaulted by two men but were actually taking them to investigate Ana’s disappearance. He made the same argument for Boy A’s phone.
Det Garda Gabriel Newton said she took the boots and phone solely because they might help her to find Boy A’s attackers. She said she didn’t even know Ana was dead at that stage.
The judge agreed with Newton, and the defence application failed.
Next Gageby argued the DNA evidence against Boy A was inadmissible because Supt Gordon had filled out the wrong form to authorise the taking of samples from the boy.
Called to give evidence, Gordon conceded that, instead of filling in an authorisation form under the 2014 DNA Act, he filled in one concerning the 1990 Act. The prosecution said it was a record-keeping error but no more. The detectives who took the samples gave evidence that they were correctly instructed under the 2014 Act. Again the defence application failed.
One of the main objectives of Boy B’s defence team was to have the jury hear the evidence of Dr Humphries, the psychologist who examined the teen at the start of the year and determined he had been traumatised by witnessing the attack on Ana.
In the absence of the jury, Humphries repeated what he said in his report, that the trauma caused Boy B to tell the gardaí “untruths”. The doctor said he didn’t like to use the word “lie” because he didn’t want to seem judgmental.
He told Colgan the boy was bright but naive and immature. By way of illustration, he said that, during his stay in Oberstown, Boy B had asked for Lego to play with – a request the staff had never had before.
Grehan’s cross-examination of Humphries for the prosecution was easily the most combative of the entire trial. Counsel took particular issue with the doctor’s assertion that Boy B had “no knowledge of a plan for murder”.
Grehan said this was a matter for the jury. He said the doctor’s report contained a lot of jargon but there “doesn’t appear to be any engagement with the facts of the interviews”.
He submitted that allowing the doctor’s evidence into the trial would trespass on the function of the jury as the judges of fact and effectively make Humphries a “13th juror”. After taking the night to think about it, McDermott excluded the doctor’s evidence entirely.
But the prosecution did not enjoy an unbroken record of success in their legal applications. In fact a significant number of the judge’s other decisions ended up going against them, including one concerning a novel attempt to introduce photographs of a mannequin into evidence.
Horror movies and heavy metal
There is a long history of prosecutors deploying unusual exhibits in criminal trials. In 2010 a bodhrán was presented in the Special Criminal Court to prove the accused was a member of the IRA. During the Troubles a packet of digestive biscuits was presented in the same court; prosecutors argued it was a component of a home-made mortar.
Striking exhibits can be especially helpful in murder trials. Juries have been shown swords, spades, guns, bats and, in the 2008 trial of Brian Kearney, for strangling his wife, a vacuum-cleaner flex. Such exhibits can help juries visualise how a crime may have been committed far better than any description from a witness.
That was the idea behind the prosecution’s plan in this case to dress a mannequin up in the clothes worn by Boy A during Ana’s murder and present photographs of it to the jury. Pictures of the mannequin, fitted with the mask, gloves, snood, shin-guards and knee pads found in the boy’s backpack, would be shown to jurors.
It was, to say the least, an unusual request. The prosecution knew McDermott would need to be convinced of the merits of bringing such an unusual exhibit into a courtroom. It would essentially be showing the jury the last thing Ana saw before her death.
At the midpoint of the trial, in the absence of the jury, Grehan handed the judge three photographs of the mannequin, which had been dressed by a Forensic Science Ireland expert, John Hoade.
The barrister said it would be nothing more than a “visual aid” to show the jury how items from the backpack were intended to be worn. He said the mannequin was “no more than a representation of what the jury has already seen, in a different format”.
Gageby, for Boy A, objected on the basis that the mannequin was speculative and there was no evidence it accurately portrayed what was worn at the time. For example, there was no evidence to show Boy A had his hood up during the attack.
Mr Justice McDermott tends to look at barristers over the top of his spectacles when he is sceptical of their argument. This is what he did as the prosecution tried to get the mannequin photographs admitted.
“Whatever limited probative value is outweighed by the disproportionate prejudicial effects. I’m not satisfied that this photo should go in,” he ruled.
McDermott would use the same reasoning, combined with the quizzical over-the-glasses look, throughout the trial when denying the prosecution permission to admit other evidence.
Most of the legal wrangling was over the items obtained during the search of Boy A’s home after his arrest, including a copybook whose drawings and scribblings included a sketch titled Nightcrawler, showing an emaciated figure with a bandaged skull for a head. The words “just kill them” and “just f**king do it” were also written in the book.
This showed an interest in violent imagery, the prosecution said.
The copybook also contained instructions for constructing a “shell mask”, proof the mask found in the backpack was made by Boy A, they said.
The judge allowed the mask-making instructions but excluded the other items. “I’m trying to tie it in with the case, but I don’t see it,” he told Grehan. “He had a portfolio of material. That seems to be, on its face, the height of it.”
Next up was a completed questionnaire, signed by Boy A, that appeared to form a part of a school assignment. It read:
Where do you like to hang out? Abandoned places. What are your favourite books? Horror. What are your favourite sports? Combat. What are your favourite movies? Horror and comedy. What are your favourite music? Rap and heavy metal. Single or taken? Single. I would describe myself as: Crazy, funny, adventurous. I am: strange I think: differently I feel: not much I hope to: do well in life I feel: angry when someone tries to annoy me or hits me I love: steak and drawing. I hate: homework.
Aside from the obvious relevance of liking to hang out in abandoned places, the prosecution said the answers gave an insight into how the accused viewed himself, as someone who is “strange”, thinks “differently” and doesn’t feel much.
“These are teenage documents,” McDermott said. “Lots of teenagers watch horror movies and listen to heavy metal.”
Gageby called them “juvenile jottings of a juvenile written in a juvenile fashion as part of some class of a school questionnaire”.
He continued: “The fact he feels himself strange or doesn’t feel much is likely to be taken out of context and in some way demonstrate that it is more likely that the author of this planned and killed a young girl. In my opinion it just isn’t there.”
The judge ruled out every part of the questionnaire except for the reference to hanging out in abandoned places.
Among the most contested evidence was the huge amount of pornography found on Boy A’s electronic devices.
The prosecution sought to introduce as evidence 10 of the images that depicted sexual violence, as well as the pornographic video mentioning “Anastasia” (not Anastasia Kriégel) in its title. The violent material could be relevant to the boy’s attitude towards consent, he said.
“It is general background evidence. That’s as far as we go with it. It is potentially relevant in that regard,” Grehan said.
Gageby countered that the probative value of the pornography evidence “is so slight as to be imperceptible” while its “prejudicial value is extremely high”. If the prosecution wanted to introduce the violent images, they might have to put them in context by introducing the thousands of other nonviolent images, he suggested.
It was also inadmissible because of the six-month gap between the material being accessed and the murder, Gageby argued.
McDermott agreed, ruling that admission of any of the pornographic material would be unfair.
Also ruled out was a video found on Boy A’s phone that appeared to show Boy B hitting a stone block with a steel-reinforced stick. “Holy shit. That’s f**ked,” Boy A could be heard saying as he zoomed in on the damage caused to the block.
“I don’t see any relevance other than attempting to draw an inference which could not be justified,” McDermott ruled.
He made the same ruling about evidence of internet searches by Boy B for various types of knives and for a Youtube video entitled My Girlfriend Tortured, Stabbed and Starved Me.
Among the vast amount of evidence collected by gardaí were several references to satanism. In Boy B’s room gardaí found a copybook laying out the rules of a “satanic cult” he had set up. There was a list of the group’s members, including both accused, as well as the cult rules:
“Only pledge hosts can give pledges.
“Don’t talk about it.
“Act normally like nothing happened.
“No talking about Jesus or God, only Satan.”
Unprompted, Boy B had told gardaí during his sixth interview that the “cult” was actually a homework club. Participants would share their homework with each other if they had forgotten to do it, he explained. The reference to satanism was to dissuade other classmates from wanting to join.
Satanism arose again when, during one interview, Daly asked Boy B if May 14th, the day Ana was murdered, had any relevance. “That’s doomsday, isn’t it?” the detective asked.
Before the interview Daly had put the date into Google and was brought to a website called Satan’s Rapture, which featured a calendar stating the world would end on May 14th. The boy said the date held no significance for him and he was not familiar with the satanic calendar.
At another point in his interviews, Boy B described seeing a “pentagram”, a symbol associated with satanism, in Glenwood House.
Before the start of the case prosecutors and investigators debated the relevance of the references to satanism. Detectives had discovered little to no evidence of motivation for Ana’s murder; perhaps an interest in the occult might provide an explanation. In the United States in the 1980s a series of violent crimes was linked to satanism, leading to what became known as “satanic panic” among the public. (It was later established that many of the crimes had little or no link to satanism.) Closer to home, the murder of a seven-year-old boy in 1973 in Palmerstown, in west Dublin, was suspected by some investigators as having a satanic link.
There were several drawbacks to the satanism theory, however. Pentagrams, like crudely drawn swastikas, are commonly used to deface derelict buildings, and Boy B’s homework-club explanation for the “cult” was corroborated by several classmates.
In the end the prosecution decided not to place significant relevance on the satanism material. The jury would hear most of it in passing during the run of evidence, but it would not form a central plank of the prosecution case.
The case before the jury
Even without much of the mobile-phone evidence the prosecution had built an extremely strong case against Boy A. It consisted of three main elements: the CCTV of him in the park, the forensic evidence linking him to the scene, and the lies he told gardaí, especially about being beaten up by two unidentified assailants.
The case against Boy B also had its strengths but was less clear cut. The prosecution were relying almost completely on his Garda questioning, to the extent that they made the unusual decision to show the jury almost the entirety of the videos of his interviews, 16 hours’ worth.
Jurors normally receive only written transcripts of interviews, but the prosecution believed it was vital for them to see Boy B’s demeanour and the evolution of his story over the eight sessions. (Only snippets of Boy A’s interviews were read out, as he declined to answer most of the detectives’ questions.)
Nevertheless, it got them only so far. Boy B was shown repeatedly lying to gardaí, but there was zero forensic evidence linking him to the killing. In order to prove murder the prosecution needed to prove he knew the plan that day was to kill Ana. To do this they relied heavily on Boy B’s admission that Boy A had asked him a month earlier if he wanted to kill the girl.
The entire case against Boy B would essentially boil down to one issue: Did he believe Boy A when he said this or did he think he was joking? If the former was true Boy B was guilty, if it was the latter he was innocent.
Being at the scene of a murder is not a crime, the jury would be repeatedly told. Nor is failing to intervene to stop a murder.
After more than six weeks of evidence the prosecution closed their case. Neither Boy A or B gave evidence. Nor did they call any witnesses in their defence. This was their right, the jury would be reminded. The onus was on the prosecution to prove their guilt, not the defence to prove their innocence.
Before closing speeches began there was some legal argument about the possibility of alternative verdicts being put before the jury. There had been some speculation that lawyers for one or both of the boys would ask that the jury be allowed to consider a manslaughter verdict as well as a murder verdict. But there was no such application from either party.
After the jury began its deliberations, however, Gageby asked the judge to tell the jurors that the option of manslaughter was still open to them. McDermott refused after objections from the prosecution.
This left only the question of whether the jury would be allowed to consider an alternative verdict against Boy B of impeding the prosecution of Boy A through his lies in interview. After considering the matter the judge ruled that the offence did not apply, as Boy B’s interviews could not be used against Boy A in evidence anyway. No alternative verdicts would be put before the jury.
The boys’ defences would finally become clear when their lawyers delivered their closing speeches.
In a speech lasting less than an hour, Gageby focused on what he said was a lack of evidence that Boy A planned to kill Ana. He never overtly said his client was connected to the girl’s death, but he conceded that the jury might decide Boy A was present when the injuries were inflicted on Ana. “But is there any real evidence that he planned any of this?” he asked.
The barrister also alluded to the idea that Boy A and Ana engaged in consensual sexual activity. Glenwood House was probably used by young people for “romantic trysts”, given the presence of condom wrappers on the ground, he said. Pathology evidence showed injuries to Ana’s genitals, but it couldn’t be established if these occurred through nonconsensual activity.
Gageby added that it “can’t be ruled out” that a neck swab taken from Ana showing male DNA did not result from “casual intimacy”.
He said the case was based almost entirely on circumstantial evidence. “This has to be very carefully weighed.”
The barrister said Boy A came from a “decent, hard-working family”. This is not a defence, he said, but is highly relevant to determining if Boy A planned to kill.
He also warned the jury against overinterpreting the material found on his client’s phone.
“We know young people have many devices and interests and frequently have unlimited ability to look for and find things of interest. If you took any 13- or 14-year-old-boy and did a complete trawl through their devices, what are the chances that you find something, one or two small things, that are unpleasant?”
Referring to Boy B’s claim that Boy A said he wanted to kill Ana, counsel said there is nothing to suggest this was anything more than a joke. Irish people tend to use “extravagant” language, Gageby said. “Have your parents never told you they’d kill you if you come home late again?”
In any event, jurors couldn’t consider it as evidence against his client, because it had come from Boy B’s interview.
Colgan, in his closing speech for Boy B, repeated his criticisms of the nature of the Garda interviews. He also suggested blame for Ana’s death lay squarely with Boy A.
There was no way Boy B would be stupid enough to call for Ana and walk her through a park full of CCTV cameras if he knew the plan was to murder her. Boy B lied to gardaí, counsel conceded, but he did so because he was traumatised by what he saw in Glenwood House.
He was also scared of Boy A, who was bigger and stronger than him and knew martial arts.
Colgan dismissed the references to the satanic club as “sensationalist” evidence. He concluded by telling the jury they must find Boy B not guilty if they believed he had no knowledge of a plan to kill Ana.
Jury deliberations and verdict
Jurors began deliberating on the afternoon of Wednesday, June 12th. They would remain out for 14 hours and 24 minutes over the course of five days.
During deliberations there were few clues about which direction jurors were leaning in. Unusually, they did not come back with any questions about the law. The only requests were to re-examine some exhibits, such as the bloodied stick, Boy A’s gloves and the Tescon tape. They also asked for DVDs of seven of Boy B’s Garda interviews.
Jurors had been asked to consider the cases against the boys separately, but as time wore on it became clear that the verdicts would come together. At 2.02pm on Tuesday, June 18th, word went around the second floor of the Criminal Courts of Justice that jurors had reached a verdict. Gardaí and journalists rushed back to the court, which, despite being closed to the public, seemed to fill up instantly.
Boy B sat with his eyes shut while clutching his mother’s arm. He appeared to be doing breathing exercises. Boy A’s father put his arm around his son.
“Have you reached a verdict on any of the counts?” the registrar asked the forewoman. She replied that they had. Her hand appeared to shake as she handed over the verdict paper.
Boy A was guilty of the murder and aggravated sexual assault of Anastasia Kriégel, the registrar announced. Boy B was guilty of her murder. The forewoman confirmed these were unanimous verdicts.
The courtroom was silent for about 30 seconds. Boy A appeared to cry while Boy B held his head in his hands.
Boy B’s father began shouting. A prison officer told his wife: “He’s too high. He has to go out.” The father slammed the courtroom door as he left, before returning a few seconds later and embracing his wife and son. Boy A’s parents also wept and hugged their son but remained silent.
“You bunch of scumbags, you bunch of pricks… innocent boy,” Boy B’s father said. He clapped sarcastically at the court as the two teens were led away.
Geraldine Kriégel sat with her eyes closed as the verdict was read out. She and Patric remained calm and composed. They stood and nodded to the jurors as they left the room. Some members appeared to smile and nod back.
The parents then embraced their friends before turning and hugging some of the gardaí. Patric even kissed one of the nearby journalists on the cheek. They thanked the prosecution team before being led upstairs to join family in the victim-support area.
Mr Justice McDermott thanked the jurors and excused them from further service for life. “This has been a very difficult trial,” he said. “I can’t offer you anything apart from, of course, sincere gratitude.” He told jurors they were free to go and “get on with their lives”. He reminded them that restrictions on them discussing the case or revealing the boys’ identities continued. The restrictions on naming the boys also continued for everyone else, he said.
Boy A and Boy B were remanded in custody to Oberstown until sentencing on July 15th, 2019.
In criminal trials there is a lot of talk about facts and the truth, but such trials are often not very good at finding either. Instead they are effective at determining one very narrow question: Is there enough evidence to show beyond a reasonable doubt an accused committed an offence? The jury in the trial of Boys A and B determined that there was.
But it could not determine why Ana was murdered. And it could not determine why Ana was lured to an abandoned house and beaten to death. It wasn’t the job of the jury to decide on the boys’ motivations. That’s a job for any probation and psychological experts whom the judge may ask to assess the boys before he sentences them.
‘Ana loved to dance’
Throughout the trial there was widespread public anger, much of it expressed on social media, that some of the most intimate details of Ana Kriégel’s life were being put on display while Boys A and B had complete anonymity.
Many wondered if the boys would be named on conviction. They won’t be. It will remain a criminal offence ever to identify them as Ana’s murderers. The teens will continue to be known publicly as Boy A and Boy B, the terms journalists settled on just before the trial began.
We know from the evidence that, although Boy A is an unusual child, he had never been in trouble with the Garda and did not drink or take drugs. He was tall for his age and skilled in martial arts.
He spent a lot of time online and liked horror movies, special effects and drawing. He also played a lot of video games.
His coaccused described him to gardaí as “strange”, “weird” and “not a rational thinker”.
As for Boy B, several witnesses gave evidence that he was unusually bright. He excelled at primary school, despite a lack of focus on academics in his home. His marks started to drop at secondary school as he struggled with the increased homework.
He loved to make things with his hands and was regarded as particularly skilled with technology. Like Boy A, he liked computer games but showed little interest in social media. Twice his father had bought him a smartphone, and twice he had lost it.
Dr Humphries testified that Boy B prefers the company of younger children, as he finds them less demanding. He described this as “unusual but not deviant in any way”.
Despite his father’s best efforts, Boy B did not like sport. He preferred Pokémon and Japanese cartoons.
His father described him as someone who was “hungry for friendship” and believed everything his friends told him.
Humphries said he was friends with Boy A because it gave him “kudos”. He said, “Doing things with [Boy A] made him a bigger presence.”
After his arrest Boy A called Boy B one of his best friends, a sentiment that was not mutual. Boy B told gardaí the two were not close friends, following a recent falling-out over a set of keys. The court heard evidence that he didn’t trust Boy A. He told one friend he feared Boy A might “snake him” or set him up after the murder. Before Ana’s body was found he cast doubt on Boy A’s claim that two unidentified men had caused his injuries. Boy B told gardaí he believed Ana caused the injuries.
The murder, or perhaps the investigation, seems to have been the end of any friendship between the two. During the trial the boys appeared to make a point of not interacting; they sat separately and filed out of court every day in separate groups.
We can say a lot more about Ana Kriégel. Her mother said she was a girl who loved to dance. She was part of the Leixlip-based troupe Dance LA, whose members, decked in red headscarves and silver sequins, formed a guard of honour at her funeral. Ana “spent hours in our front room, listening to music, practising her moves”, her mother said.
We can say Ana was a great singer and wanted to learn how to play guitar. We can say her Siberian strength and height made her an incredible swimmer. We can say she loved to volunteer for things and, shortly before her death, agreed to model in a fashion show organised by older classmates to raise money for charity.
Ana never lost touch with her Russian roots. A Russian flag and a matryoshka doll were placed on her coffin. Geraldine and Patric had announced their adoption of Ana in 2006 by handing their friends a similar doll containing her picture.
We can say she also loved her holidays to France, symbolised by the presence of a miniature Eiffel Tower on her coffin.
And we can say Ana loved her family dearly and was loved dearly in return. We can say she was someone who, as her funeral heard, was never happier than when she was curled up with her mother on a Sunday, “watching some beautiful fairy-tale-princess movie while munching her favourite food, popcorn”.
Less than 24 hours after Stuff Circuit’s Life + Limb documentary revealed 17 deaths and injuries connected to New Zealand firing ranges in Afghanistan, Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern ordered the Defence Force to urgently clean up our unexploded ordnance. The documentary had exposed devastating stories of loss and asked the question, why have those accountable not taken responsibility for their actions? Thanks to this piece of investigative journalism, they have.
New Zealand went to Afghanistan in 2003 on a ‘hearts and minds’ mission. So when we came across information suggesting civilian deaths for which our country might be responsible, it was important to investigate.
We travelled to Afghanistan to film the facts: were there deaths and injuries of civilians? How many? Were they connected with our firing ranges? Were New Zealand authorities aware? Had they done anything about it?
We knew there was a UN database which detailed nine separate incidents, but before we even arrived in Afghanistan, we got hold of documentation in which the New Zealand Defence Force stated that none of the incidents had been directly linked to its activities, and that it had cleared the main firing range in question.
How could that be so at odds with what we’d been told by others?
We wanted to track down injured survivors and the families of those who’d been killed – to put faces to names so our audience could connect on a human level: that these are not just unnamed people in a faraway land; they are mothers and brothers and sons who’d suffered great loss.
We wanted to speak to the UN in Afghanistan, to local investigators, de-miners, and elders, and to track down documentation to get as full a picture as possible, to establish whether what the Defence Force claimed, was right.
Our resulting video investigation, Life + Limb, revealed 17 Afghan civilians had been killed or injured on New Zealand firing ranges.
The documentary unfolded the story of exactly what had happened, to whom, and where: and the facts were in stark contrast to what the New Zealand Defence Force had told us.
We structured and edited the video in a way which we hoped would pull the viewer in and keep them. These were important revelations so we chose opening and closing shots of three mothers grieving their seven children, killed in one explosion, because we wanted to provide an instant way for people to connect.
When we sat down to interview them, they told us they hadn’t heard from any New Zealand authorities since the incident – in fact, anyone at all from New Zealand.
“You are the first”, one of them told us, five years on from the deaths of her children.
But the mothers didn’t really care whose unexploded ammunition was responsible for killing their children.
They just wanted the firing ranges cleaned up so nobody else would be killed.
Within 24 hours of our documentary being published, the New Zealand Prime Minister, Jacinda Ardern, summoned Defence Force chiefs to Parliament, and ordered them to urgently clean up the New Zealand firing ranges in Afghanistan of unexploded ordnance.
In an interview with Stuff Circuit, the PM had a message to the families: “We have a responsibility to clear our sites and we will – it’s taken too long in my view.”
VANCOUVER — The call came in on an afternoon in March: a patient at a medical clinic in Vancouver complained of chest pains.
Paramedic Jeff Booton watched the details flash across the screen as he and his partner made their way to the clinic.
It was his first potential case of COVID-19 and he felt both trepidation and a sense of duty.
“I see this job as working in the service of people. And getting to do so in the context of a pandemic is obviously wrought with fear and apprehension some days, but it’s work that still resonates with me,” he said.
When Booton arrived, he put on protective gloves, a fluid-repellent gown, N-95 mask and face shield.
After a physical exam, they got back in the ambulance and Booton did what he always tries to do: comfort the patient. Paramedics see people during what can be pivotal personal moments and Booton felt the weight of the patient’s worry. As they travelled together towards St. Paul’s Hospital, he told the patient what he could expect in the emergency department and what types of tests he might undergo.
“I can only imagine what he was feeling in that moment, but it must have felt like a true sense of vulnerability to what uncertainty lay ahead,” Booton said.
Booton was one of at least 125 health workers, ranging from dispatchers and nurses to hospital housekeepers, who cared for the patient.
On that day, the patient was among 55 identified by dispatchers as possible COVID-19 cases in Vancouver.
Since the pandemic began, more than 50,000 people in Canada have tested positive for the new coronavirus, and federal government figures say at least 2,900 people have been hospitalized.
This is the story of those who cared for a single case at St. Paul’s.
EMERGENCY DEPARTMENT
Dr. Shannon O’Donnell knew she had only a few minutes to prepare after paramedics phoned the hospital to warn that a suspected COVID-19 case was on the way.
“I was a little anxious,” she said. “We don’t know what we’re getting, how much distress a patient is going to be in or how sick they’ll be. And you know, you’re worried also about being exposed to infection.”
The department had been eerily quiet after beds were vacated and the workflow was overhauled to make room for a possible surge in COVID-19 cases, O’Donnell said. Provincial health officer Dr. Bonnie Henry recently announced the province has been able to control the spread of the virus, but the caseload was still growing when the patient arrived.
The paramedics brought the patient directly into a negative pressure room set up for high-risk cases. Glass walls allow for filtration changes to reduce the risk of the virus spreading by air.
Like everyone the patient would interact with, O’Donnell examined him through a heavy armour of personal protective equipment. He was one of the sicker patients she’d seen.
“What was most striking to me was that he did require oxygen, but he also had a very high respiratory rate. He was breathing 30 breaths per minute, whereas you or I would breathe 15 or 16 breaths per minute,” she said.
COVID-19 has transformed not only the hospital but O’Donnell’s home life, too. She and her husband, also an emergency doctor, juggle the full-time care of their three children at home since schools closed.
Together, they decided that if there were a major outbreak, one would work at the hospital and self-isolate from the family, while the other would care for the kids.
“My husband likened it to both of us running into a burning building at the same time.”
O’Donnell ordered blood work, chest X-rays and an electrocardiogram scan, and conducted a chest ultrasound with the help of registered nurse Rachel Mrdeza.
For Mrdeza, some of the hardest cases have been the older patients who arrive incredibly short of breath, with a fever and chest tightness. Emergency department workers don’t typically learn if patients have COVID-19 because the test results come back after they move on from their care, but there can be strong evidence of the virus.
Under normal circumstances, the emergency doctor would work with several nurses but only one is allowed in the isolation room at a time to protect against contagion.
By the time QianQian Wu began her night shift, she was only the third nurse to see the patient.
Despite the promising case numbers in B.C., Wu said staff don’t feel like they can relax. St. Paul’s Hospital is the main treatment centre for vulnerable residents on the city’s Downtown Eastside, a neighbourhood that faces another public health emergency from the overdose crisis.
Wu began her shift by putting on the uncomfortable protective gear that she would wear all night. She tries to stay hydrated before work because she knows she can’t drink water with the mask on.
“It’s a little hard to breath sometimes,” she said. “And sometimes you get sleepy with it on for a long time, it’s very warm.”
Wu took the patient’s vitals and talked to him about his family and friends. She also noticed his laboured breathing.
TESTING
While the patient waited in the emergency department, blood samples and swabs were sent to the hospital’s laboratory.
Dr. Marc Romney, medical director of medical microbiology and virology, said manual molecular testing for COVID-19 typically requires five to 10 lab staff.
“It’s not like a pregnancy test you get from London Drugs, it’s much more complicated,” Romney said.
A porter transports the specimen, a technologist reviews whether it was ordered and labelled properly, then two or three technologists conduct a multistep process involving the extraction, purification, amplification and detection of the virus’s genetic material. A senior technologist and one or two physicians review the results before they are sent back to the attending physician and infection control team.
But the virology lab was transformed by the arrival of a machine in March that automates part of the process.
The Roche cobas 6800 system was adapted from HIV testing and lifted the lab’s theoretical capacity up to 2,000 tests per day, in combination with manual testing.
Romney excitedly talks about the changes and ideas they’ve come up with to deal with the pandemic.
“One of the machines that’s called an extractor, we had to be creative to bring it into the lab because we didn’t have a lot of capital dollars to do it, so we basically bought it off the internet second hand,” he said.
“We’re under tremendous pressure to deliver, it’s been a challenging time. But we’re pleased.”
It has also come at personal cost.
One technologist was basically living in the lab and sleeping only five hours a night.
Romney went weeks without a day off and didn’t see anyone in person beyond his immediate family and colleagues.
When 19 positive tests came back in a single day, another doctor “basically ran from her home” to the hospital to start communicating the results to doctors, public health officials and others who required the information, Romney said.
“The front-line workers are amazing, and we are here to support them but I think it’s good for people to know there are also a lot of people behind the scenes working on this too,” he said.
“It’s not just machines that are being plugged into walls, it’s very human what we do here.”
Romney said the lab staff are mindful that time is critical in fighting the virus.
“It’s a sacrifice but we understand the importance of what we’re doing and there’s kind of a window of opportunity to try and contain the virus. Part of that is testing.”
THE TRANSITION TEAM
More severe suspected COVID-19 cases are sent to the intensive care unit for isolation. Back in the emergency department, Dr. O’Donnell called Dr. Mathieu Surprenant for an assessment while they awaited test results.
The 29-year-old clinical associate put plans to move back to Montreal on hold when the pandemic struck. Moving in with other doctors seemed too risky, so Surprenant remained in his nearly empty apartment in B.C. on an extended lease.
“I’m sleeping on my inflatable mattress and I’m trying not see anybody,” he said, laughing.
“It’s been very lonely because when I’m not working, I’m not doing anything.”
When he got the call from emergency, Surprenant headed downstairs with resident Dr. Charles Yang.
This wasn’t the hospital’s first suspected COVID-19 case and Yang found himself wondering if it would follow the same trajectory as others.
“In my mind I was wondering, OK what are the precautions I need to take in order to protect myself and other patients while maintaining the level of care I would typically provide for a patient,” Yang said.
He thought of his fiancee at home and whether he would be putting her at risk.
The team examined the patient to develop his care plan. They looked at his oxygen levels and also at the patient himself. Did he look comfortable? Was he struggling?
“What we’re sort of afraid of is that they reach a certain point where they’re able to compensate with their own physiology and eventually just tucker out and decline at a rapid pace,” Yang said.
A crash intubation would be risky for staff because of the time it takes to put on protective equipment, and a chaotic rush into an isolation room could spread the infection. A care plan puts everything in place for a controlled intubation, if a patient appears likely to decline.
The team talked it over and the patient was transferred to the ICU for monitoring overnight.
But it wasn’t long before his oxygen levels began to concern Surprenant.
Best practices change rapidly as new information becomes available about the new coronavirus, the doctor said.
Initially, for example, the idea was to intubate as soon as possible because if a patient gets too ill, his chance of dying on a ventilator increases. But intubation is also more invasive than other procedures and risky for health workers because it pushes droplets of the virus into the air.
Since the pandemic began, recommendations have relaxed to allow for other treatments first but it’s a constantly moving target, Surprenant said.
He believed the patient had reached the stage where intubation was his best chance at survival.
Making that call meant calling in a group dubbed the COVID airway team. Early in the pandemic, the experts in both airway management and donning and doffing specialized protective gear waited on call in a hotel across the street.
“Just dressing takes between five and 10 minutes,” Surprenant said. “They look like astronauts with all the layers.”
THE COVID AIRWAY TEAM
Anesthesiologist Dr. Shannon Lockhart was part of the planning group that conceived of the COVID airway team.
The cancellation of elective surgeries meant the traditional workload for Lockhart and her colleagues would be lighter. Their idea was to form teams with respiratory therapists to perform intubations so that emergency and ICU doctors wouldn’t expose themselves to the high-risk procedure.
Anesthesiologists self-selected into one of three groups: The first wave was ready to start serving on the COVID airway team immediately. The second would step in if the first wave got sick. And the third would not participate because they or their loved ones were at risk of serious illness if exposed to the virus.
For Lockhart, the decision to be part of the first group, known as the “green team,” was easy. The hard part was creating a plan that would call on others to face the same risk.
“I’m 35 years old, I’m young and healthy. I have a family who is young and healthy, so the personal risk was pretty low for me,” she said.
“More challenging for me was identifying this was a useful model for our group, who are my colleagues and friends, and thereby potentially offering the services of people and putting them at higher risk.”
The uptake was good, however. She was among 16 who volunteered for the green team, making it viable.
When Lockhart was called to intubate the patient, she was ready.
“He fit the story of what you hear about COVID patients who look really well from the bedside, but their numbers don’t look that great,” she said.
Putting a breathing tube down a patient’s throat under normal circumstances takes between five and six minutes, she said.
That time frame has ballooned to between 60 and 90 minutes dealing with the extra protective gear, preparing every possible material you could need in isolation, and the cleaning or disposal of everything in the room.
Dressing feels like a race when someone is struggling to breathe. Once inside, the urgency to clear the airway is intensified by the heat the suit produces.
“The longer we’re in the room, the hotter we get and the foggier our eye protection becomes,” Lockhart said.
Lockhart and a respiratory therapist gave the patient a sedative and paralytic, and inserted the breathing tube while another anesthesiologist waited outside as backup.
Working with different colleagues in an unfamiliar setting wearing cumbersome new equipment is stressful, Lockhart said. But she’s been heartened to watch hospital staff quickly respond and break down silos in which they typically operate.
After intubating the patient, the riskiest part of Lockhart’s new job is doffing her gear.
As the patient relies on strangers for care, Lockhart too relies on someone she barely knows for her own protection. She and the respiratory therapist watch one another carefully as they remove the equipment piece by piece, monitoring for any slip that would allow contamination.
“It’s kind of an interesting position to be in when you’re trusting this person with this very important task but you may never have met them before.”
THE ICU
When Dr. Gavin Tansley met the patient, he was already sedated and breathing through a ventilator.
Tansley had given the OK for intubation when Surprenant woke him up with a phone call. He was already familiar with the patient’s case.
Where possible, ICU staff keep an eye on patients they might inherit from other departments, said Tansley, a general surgeon training in critical care. They ask themselves, if things get worse, what would we do?
In the ICU, the acute focus on ventilation shifts to the more holistic care of all the patient’s major organ systems.
“Critical illness is a bit of a funny thing where you really do recognize how intertwined all of these organ systems are,” Tansley said.
“With COVID in particular we see very familiar patterns where often times the kidneys won’t be working 100 per cent, sometimes the heart won’t be working 100 per cent. So, we need to support those organs with other medications or sometimes we need to add dialysis or additional interventions to optimize things as best we can while the body tries to deal with that virus.”
When Tansley decided to become a doctor, he wanted to help people heal. He didn’t realize then that in the ICU, he wouldn’t get to know his patients very well.
“Very often by the time I meet patients, they’re already sedated or on a ventilator or so sick that they can’t talk to you. So, your relationship becomes with the family, and you develop amazing relationships,” he said.
Reflecting on the case, Tansley said it reinforced some recent thoughts he’s had about critical illness that don’t get discussed. So much focus is on the patients, but their families are often experiencing trauma.
“Conversations we’ve had with this particular family reinforced that he was very, very cared for within this family and they were very much struggling with the fact that he was unwell.”
Being unable to visit their loved ones during the pandemic has added an extra layer of grief, he said.
It has been hard for staff to keep families from their loved ones, but they are finding ways to help them connect. Tansley sets aside time to phone them with updates. Nurses hold iPads up to patients so their families can at least see them on video.
Whatever they try, it’s not the same as being able to hold a loved one or even sit with them. The grief can add an extra layer of emotional stress for health workers as well.
“It’s just one of the many ways the coronavirus has changed the way we have to practise medicine.”
RECOVERY
By the time the patient reached the ICU, about 25 health workers had already played a role in his case. Some interacted with him directly, while others played important but indirect roles in his care, ranging from hospital housekeepers to X-ray technologists.
About 90 intensive care staff saw him, and from there, he would be turned over to a general medicine team.
Recovery is a long road involving a wide network of specialists from dieticians to speech pathologists and social workers. Behind the scenes, hospital administrators, education and outreach teams also do their part.
Kevin Novakowski is a respiratory therapist and in his 28 years of work, he’s never felt an illness create such a constant psychological burden.
“It’s changed me in a way,” he said. “It’s kind of always on my mind.”
In recovery, a patient begins physiotherapy to build his strength. Novakowski is there monitoring how it affects his breathing.
It can take weeks to months, and some never fully recover. Between 30 and 60 per cent of survivors of critical illness have ongoing medical or mental health issues, said Dr. Del Dorscheid, who oversees the ICU as an attending physician. That can mean residual lung disease for COVID-19 survivors, whom he said may receive intensive care for a week or more than a month.
But the first major step toward independence is weaning a patient off the ventilator.
As Novakowski monitored the patient, he began reducing the ventilator’s power and gave him short trials without it.
“You’re looking at their breathing and watching them and focusing on how their muscles look. Are they struggling for air, are they taking deep breaths, are they breathing fast, are they breathing shallow?” he said.
Weaning is a gradual process, like an ebbing tide. Off the ventilator, a patient’s breath rattles.
“They cough and they sputter,” he said.
The rattle may disappear then return when they stand for the first time, or when they start walking.
It’s a stressful process for patients. If they don’t keep coughing to clear their airway, infections can return.
During those first trials, Novakowski waits and listens.
“You listen to them breathing,” he said. “And then all of a sudden, it’s just kind of really quiet and their breathing just sounds like our breathing, normal.
“And you think, OK. That’s good.”
This report by The Canadian Press was first published April 30, 2020.
SINGAPORE — Since she was five, Ms Kelly Kanaga, 30, and her family moved from one place to another for a roof over their heads before they got a rental flat of their own a year ago.
When she heard about the plight of Malaysian workers sleeping rough near Kranji MRT Station after a nationwide lockdown in their country in March, she did not think twice about opening her home to strangers even though it was already cramped.
Ms Kanaga was among many Singaporeans who offered their homes for free as temporary shelters.
“For many years, after my family lost our home, we would stay at people’s homes, so I know how it feels to be in their position,” said the full-time content creator, who lives with her mother and two siblings in a three-room Housing and Development Board flat in Marsiling.
TODAY reported on the Malaysian workers sleeping rough near Kranji MRT Station after the Malaysian border closure — which took effect on March 18 to tackle the Covid-19 outbreak — left them scrambling for shelter. These workers usually commute daily.
The report garnered more than 116,000 shares and an outpouring of support from Singaporeans, who offered to house Malaysian workers in their homes, or provide them with food and blankets.
Ms Kanaga said she took in two workers who work as cleaners at her sister’s office, providing them with mattresses in her living room for two months.
One of them, Ms Kasturi Karpanan, 48, was at her wits’ end trying to find a place before the offer from Ms Kanaga and her sister.
The mother of four children aged 13 to 23 was away from her family in Kulai, Johor, for the first time, so she could keep working in Singapore.
Alone here, Ms Karpanan said she never expected such hospitality from Ms Kanaga’s family. They went grocery shopping occasionally and she even appeared in an episode of a show Ms Kanaga has on YouTube.
“They spent a lot of money on me over the two months. They bought me a pillow and clothes, and refused to take a single cent.
“I didn’t feel like I was living in a stranger’s house at all… It was like living with family,” she said.
After a tip-off by activist Gilbert Goh, TODAY went to Kranji MRT Station on March 19 at about 9.30pm.
The first sign of the homeless Malaysians was warehouse storekeeper Armel Sharil, who was leaning on the station’s metal gates, his face buried between his legs.
Mr Armel had only his wallet, a phone with no internet access, a portable charger, a small tub of hair wax and mouthwash with him. He had no time to pack more belongings before the lockdown.
He was hesitant to share his story at first, but when he did, many followed suit as they wanted their stories told.
TODAY’s reporter and photographer stayed at the station till almost 2am approaching worker after worker, although some refused to talk and many were already snoring.
IMPACT ON COMMUNITY
The Ministry of Manpower said 14 workers were picked up from the station later in the night and taken to a temporary relief centre in Jurong East managed by the Ministry of Social and Family Development.
A check at the station by TODAY the next evening found no Malaysian workers looking to spend the night there.
Instead, this reporter was met by groups of volunteers carrying boxes of sleeping bags, bread and blankets. Officers from the High Commission of Malaysia and the Malaysian Association in Singapore also turned up at the station after reading TODAY’s report.
Within a week, property portal 99.co started an initiative matching homeowners to workers in need.
To date, 99.co has worked with 40 homeowners and residential firm MetroResidences to match workers with temporary housing. Nine workers have been matched.
Mr Darius Cheng, its chief executive officer, told TODAY: “99.co salutes Malaysians working in Singapore for their sacrifice and dedication in earning a living for their loved ones back home, especially in challenging conditions imposed by the lockdown.”
One of its sign-ups was Ms Michelle Loi, 48, who had a vacant flat she wanted to rent out.
Instead, she used it to house two workers for free — one stayed a month before returning to Malaysia and the other moved in with his colleague after two months.
Ms Loi is still in touch with one of them, who kept her updated when he changed his job and moved into his new accommodation.
Bonds flourished between homeowners and the workers they housed.
For outdoor instructor Ruby Tan, who housed two workers for two months, the workers made co-living easy, as they were respectful of the space and kept it clean.
“I’m happy to be able to help, and at the same time, make new friends. It was bittersweet when they left,” said the 32-year-old, who lives in a three-room flat with her husband.
“I felt like we hadn’t built enough of a connection and they were gone.”
The workers left in May when they found a place to stay.
Similarly, human resource executive Joy Choo, 32, who opened her home to a worker, said the pair keeps in touch.
“She still has a plush toy in the room… She told me that she would come back for it before she returns to Malaysia,” said Ms Choo.
She recalled having to make adjustments when sharing her home with the Muslim worker, such as ordering in Halal food.
TODAY did not speak to the workers involved, as they did not wish their employers to know of their circumstances.
Ms Kanaga said she would open up her home to anyone who needs a place to stay, no matter the circumstances.
Ms Karpanan said she tries to visit Ms Kanaga’s family whenever she has time as she misses them.
“When I am alone, I think about the things we did together or I will watch Kelly’s shows (on YouTube).”
This article was written in conjunction with World News Day, which raises awareness of journalism’s role in helping people to make sense of and improve the world around them. The campaign, on Sept 28, will showcase the best work from newsrooms around the globe and how they have brought about positive change in the community.
At 18 years old, I never expected to be writing news in the middle of a pandemic.
For the last six weeks, I’ve been a summer student journalist for Torstar, as part of an internship that started this year with the aim of introducing more diverse applicants into the newsroom.
In many ways, I’m an atypical applicant in an atypical time: I’m not in journalism school, and my reporting happens largely over the phone. The newsroom that I’m part of is hosted on Zoom, and I’ve only met a handful of my colleagues in person. Sometimes, calling a source in my childhood bedroom sends me into a self-aware spiral: How is this my job?
I got into journalism as a lonely math student who had just moved 600 kilometres away from her Ontario hometown. I traipsed around Montreal to cover stories for my student newspaper, drawn to the prospect of writing and understanding the city itself.
Reporting was the best kind of orientation. I walked alongside the protesters I interviewed at marches, and learned to navigate the Byzantine bureaucracy of student government by writing about it. Journalism became a balm for me, a kind of compass. When I was confused, I wanted to find–and write about–something that approximated truth. It felt like contributing to something physical, something published, something necessary.
It wasn’t easy work. Unlike the precise mathematical truths I studied in my classes, the chronology of real-world events was often fractured and confusing. Sometimes it was difficult to determine causality.
Narrative is what drives stories, but it’s also seductive: It’s easy enough to tell a good story and get the why wrong, even when the what is right. I learned how to fact-check the hard way, although I still make the occasional mistake. It’s a difficult job when every error made is public.
Yet that accountability to the truth is what makes journalism so important. Accurate reporting is more relevant than ever–how could I believe otherwise, at this time in history? I was born four months after 9/11. The global financial crisis happened when I was 6 years old. Like many of us, I can precisely pinpoint where I was the day I learned Donald Trump was elected–in my grade 10 math class, writing a unit test with a pit in my stomach. And of course, in my first year of university, the COVID-19 pandemic halted my life.
It’s journalism which has kept me informed through all this–because good reporting isn’t just business. The work journalists do is a service to society, as critical and as shared as our roads and highways. It’s also why it’s difficult to see the revenue model of something so necessary so deeply disrupted. Journalism is clearly not ‘dead’, whatever the latest pundit says–but in many ways it’s had to make substantive changes.
It feels especially ironic to know that my generation takes a share in the blame. We’re more informed than ever, but rather than reading physical papers, we share op-eds, infographics, Tweets, video clips. Some of us don’t read news sources at all; instead, we wait for stories to percolate through social media. Almost none of my friends subscribe to a newspaper. Our mode of consumption is digital, constant, and largely for free.
Yet how can the news survive if everyone wants to read it and nobody wants to pay for it? I’ve seen how hard people work in this profession. It especially breaks my heart to see less and less attention paid to local journalism. Without journalists reporting on your city, who will tell you about the issues with your children’s school board? Who will reveal to you the pollution in your water? Who will tell the story of your city or your family?
As I write this, my six weeks are wrapping up–but I’ll take my perspective on journalism with me. Soon enough, my Zoom newsroom will be replaced by a Zoom classroom, yet I’ll keep paying for the reporting that my colleagues do here. Life continues to happen, and it’s a gift to have been able to record a few weeks of it.
Tasmin Chu lives in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada. She worked as an intern reporter during the summer of 2020 for the Waterloo Region Record, a daily newspaper and website in Kitchener, Ontario.
This story was originally published by the Fiji Sun on April 30, 2020.
Temalesi Tauga, 42, just wanted tamarind so she could kickstart a little business of her own to support her five children and 72-year-old mother.
Now she has an almost new stove, a full cylinder of gas and later this week, she will get ingredients to start a baking business.
Her plea for help on a social media page designed to encourage barter system, showed the acts of kindness Fijians are known for.
Ms Tauga is not alone, the Barter for Better Fiji page on Facebook has seen many people assisted. Above anything, it has shown how people have come together during a pandemic which has not spared the greatest superpowers.
Ms Tauga is a single mother and lives in a four by two metres shack at Kalekana in Lami, a suburb in Fiji’s capital, Suva.
The tin, wood and other materials used to build her home have been sourced from the area – discarded imaterials make up some part of her home.
Ms Tauga works as a house-girl. But since the COVID-19 pandemic struck, there are not many opportunities.
“You can imagine my surprise when people started helping me. I was given groceries, one person gave me empty bottles for my tamarind chutney, but above all, I have been given a chance to help my children,” she said.
Mafi Mataika was going through Barter for Better Fiji when he came across Ms Tauga’s request.
“I had an old oven and I decided to give it to her. Mr and Mrs Khan from Khalsa Road had a gas cylinder, so I picked it up and delivered it to her. We will be going back to her with baking ingredients and some more items,” he said.
Mr Mataika said an anonymous donor gave money for groceries for the single mum.
Ms Tauga said she was grateful to God and all those who had helped.
But, this is just one heartwarming example that the Barter for Better FijiFacebook page has created.
LEN’S STORY
In Nadi, the hub of what was once a thriving tourism industry in the Western part of Fiji, Len Yusuf from sold cakes and pastries despite the effects from COVID-19.
On Tuesday, she was looking for an empty gas cylinder. She posted her request on the Barter page. Little did she know that she would get two empty gas cylinders, a few fish and coconuts.
She was surprised to see Alice Fong who travelled for more than one and a half hours from Ba to visit her.
On Monday she managed to exchange her chocolate and custard pies with Mere Namalualevu for more fresh fish, coconuts and a brand new pair of shoes.
GOOD SAMARITAN
Former resort worker, Teresa Naivaluvou, traded in her University of the South Pacific textbooks for a tin of infant formula and two packs of diapers.
She was desperate.
The chief executive officer of Fiji’s biggest language school, FreeBird Institute made contact and arrived at her home with baby stuff.
Mereseini Baleilevuka did not take the textbooks.
She simply saw a need and wanted to help.
MARLENE DUTTA
The Barter for Better Fiji Facebook page was set up by Marlene Dutta. Ms Dutta is no stranger to business in Fiji.
The page aimed to help people who faced financial constraints to barter. It was a natural solution as money became tight and hard to come by.
“In the spirit of the giving nature of members on this page – we ask that if you are asking for donations or to help people in dire need, to also offer something/anything in return to ensure that the rules of barter apply.
“If commenter’s offer to donate for nothing in return, that is awesome – but we must be true to our purpose. We ask for your understanding in this,” Ms Dutta said.
BEHIND THE STORY:
Out of the depths of despair from the COVID-19 pandemic sweeping the globe, acts of courage, resilience, kindness and selflessness emerged across Fiji.
By harnessing modern technology to connect people, the Barter for Better Fiji Facebook page started on April 21, 2020.
Today its membership is over 190,000 – more than 20 percent of Fiji’s population.
Items being bartered include goats, mobile phones, taxi service, pot plants for building materials, – but the most commonly requested items have been groceries and food.
In July, Government confirmed that at least 150,000 Fijians have lost their jobs or have had their hours reduced as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic.
But in the midst of it all – hope came to the fore.
This was the spirit the Fiji Sun captured.
After the front-page story by Shalveen Chand was published, the Fiji Sun editorial team decided that we would highlight Fijians who went above and beyond to assist another.
The series which continues today is aptly titled: Amazing Fijians.
This story was originally published in El Litoral.
Around 50 families live in the Los Alisos beach area in precarious conditions and problems with neighbours are commonplace. The municipality plans to resolve social fragmentations and find a definitive solution together with social organizations, the Provincial government and other State agencies.
Resolving the precarious habitat conditions of hundreds of families in the city of Santa Fe, Argentina, is a pending matter that the municipal and provincial governments cannot yet “approve”, either because the policies applied are wrong or due to the simple fact that the percentage of poverty and homelessness in the country is growing rapidly and the need to have a place to live is urgent.
Faced with this lack of “decent housing”, Santa Fe families that do not have a roof to live in mobilize in groups and settle in different free lands found on the outskirts of Santa Fe. These settlements generate conflictive situations among neighbors, and returns a daily friction. A clear example is what happens in El Pozo. There, some 49 families (according to a 2019 survey) are settled on the shores of the Setúbal lagoon, on Los Alisos beach, a space occupied more than a decade ago.
“The city of Santa Fe presents socio-urban fragmentations that show social vulnerability and the discontinuity of the urban fabric. These sectors of the city represent the highest rates of overcrowding and insecurity. If we add to this inequality in access to land, generates irregular occupations, as is the case of Los Alisos, an area with water risk “, analyzed Paola Pallero, executive director of the Autárquico Santa Fe Habitat Entity, in an interview with El Litoral, and added:” As a first instance we want to face a survey news of the families and update it to today. This is done through a coordinated effort with the Province and the MPA (Public Prosecutor’s Office) “
The sectors that show these irregular situations, for Pallero are located, for the most part, “on the western edge of the city, in the north and in the district of La Costa.” When asked about the comparative analysis with previous years and the demographic growth of the usurped land, the official highlighted: “Yes, they have sustained growth. In the case of El Pozo, from 2009 to today.”
Integration plan
How can the problem be addressed?
From the municipality we are going to bet on a relocation project that is sustained over time and that is comprehensive, that is, that not only addresses home improvements in a safe place, but also that includes public space, social integration urban and the necessary infrastructure, so as not to replicate this situation in another part of the city.
Let us remember that Los Alisos is one of the popular neighborhoods registered by the Renabap (National Registry of Popular Neighborhoods) for socio-urban integration. For us it is a priority to intervene in the socio-urban integration project, but when they constitute a risk for its inhabitants such as Los Alisos, as it is a water risk area, the projects must be approached in a comprehensive manner from all levels of the State, together with social organizations. That is why we are doing it with the residents of the El Pozo neighborhood, social and self-convened organizations, to convey to them the priority of the municipality to work on this socio-urban integration.
Do the neighbors share this idea?
Yes, when we were together we shared our vision with them and that is why we will continue working together.
How long will this integration take?
It will depend on the financing and resources that we can get, but the project is already well advanced.
It is a problem that has been around for a long time, different provincial and local governments have passed. What is reality today?
For us it is a priority due to the social vulnerability that was generated, not only at the insecurity level but also in relation to the habitat and quality of life of these inhabitants. Plus the problem that can be transferred with the residents of El Pozo.
When you became municipal government, did you expect to find this habitat situation or were you surprised by the numbers?
We were surprised by the numbers, especially the fragmentation of the city, there is a very large gap between the formal and informal urban ejido. That is why we are prioritizing all socio-urban integration works in the northwest and on the western edge, not only to aim at the construction of new homes but also to provide alternatives for improvements that can generate a decent place.
On the other side of the defense
El Litoral toured the place and spoke with the neighbors to find out their positions on the controversial situation generated by the issue of settlements.
María del Rosario Alarcón, a neighbor of El Pozo, gave her point of view to the problem of the settlement on Los Alisos beach, but before that she reviewed the years that gave rise to the popular neighborhood. “Before the construction of the shopping center began (formerly Paseo del Sol, located in front of El Pozo) there was a villa sitting on the entrance of the shopping mall, next to Route 168 and they called it Villa Corpiño. Suddenly they removed the villa because it was on private land and there they built the service station, when they were run they came to settle on the shores of the lagoon, behind the El Pozo neighborhood, “recalled the neighbor.
What is the biggest problem that it generates for you?
Here the problem is the absence of the State, which has been absent in the last 13 years. The biggest problem is the insecurity, not because the people of the settlement are bad but in the last time people have come who occupy land and sell houses, here crime has become common.
Who should regulate these illegal land sales?
The regulation has to come from the State. There are both provincial and national laws that prohibit building on the banks of rivers and we do not have a building, we have a complete neighborhood.
Did you have recent responses from the State?
Yes, the last call was made by the mayor Jatón in the Municipality with all the neighborhood institutions, which were well received and presented their problems.
What do you want: to be removed or to be given a place to live?
One thing leads to another. The people who live there are citizens who have their rights. Here it is not a question of a struggle of the poor against the poor, a fight that happens when the State is absent. These people deserve to live differently. They do not have drinking water and we are in the middle of a pandemic, one part has electricity because the EPE installed a community connection, but in the other part the cables come down from the public lighting and it is a danger. They live in absolute misery and it cannot be that they live like this.
Inland
Neighbor Jimena Romero commented, referring to the settlement in Los Alisos, that “there are many needs in this small neighborhood. I would like there to be a work plan so that those living in the settlement do jobs in the El Pozo neighborhood and also we hope a housing plan so that they can live with water and electricity, because that is a right. “
How do people get to this place? In what situation?
There are people from the outskirts of the city, but there are also people who came from Chaco, from Santiago del Estero. Here they have many basic needs (for essential services), there are differences between the neighbors.
How was your arrival in the neighborhood? Did you ask permission to install?
Through a letter that I sent to the Municipal Council and they told me that I could be two meters from the defense but that you could not build a house and that is why I built my little ranch.
Is it difficult to live with the neighbor who is on the other side of the defense?
It is not difficult, you have to learn to live together. In 15 years I never saw what happened recently (in reference to the shootings in July).
“I bought a little ranch”
Facundo lived in Alto Verde, but decided to move to the Los Alisos settlement after buying, clearly irregularly, a space to live. “I came because I bought a little ranch. My mother got it for me,” he said. When asked who his seller was, Facundo limited himself to saying: “I have no idea who they were. There were people here who sold the land, nor were they the owners, but they sold them anyway.”
“Here you live quietly, better than in other neighborhoods,” said the young man who searches for them as a bricklayer, adding: “I would like to live here and able that one day we can have a house of material.”
What do you feel when there are people who think of getting them out of here?
Wrong. We have no other place to be and where to go. There are many people here who have young children, they have to give them something.
WHO Director-General Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus highlighted that all were not merely fighting an epidemic but an infodemic, pointing to fake news spreading more swiftly and easily than the virus and being just as harmful.
“We’re not just fighting an epidemic, we’re fighting an infodemic,” Ghebreyesus noted in his speech at Munich Security, February 15, while citing that “fake news spreads faster and more easily than this virus, and is just as dangerous.”
The WHO chief remarked that an infodemic could be more perilous than the unprecedented COVID-19 pandemic rattling the global health system.
However, what is an infodemic? It is an abbreviation for information and pandemic. David J. Rothkopf first coined the term “infodemic” in his news feature “When the Buzz Bites Back” at The Washington Post in 2003 when hundreds of people died of Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome (SARS).
In his article, Rothkopf, a political scientist-cum-journalist, defined infodemic as “few facts, mixed with fear, speculation, and rumor, amplified and relayed swiftly worldwide by modern information technologies, have affected national and international economies, politics, and even security in ways that are utterly disproportionate with the root realities”.
Rothkopf expounded that an infodemic is not merely false news or misperception to information, as “it is a complex phenomenon caused by the interaction of mainstream media, specialist media, and internet sites; and ‘informal’ media, which is to say wireless phones, text messaging, pagers, faxes and e-mail, all transmitting some combination of fact, rumor, interpretation and propaganda”.
When a series of virulent false news, misinformation, disinformation, and myth contaminate people’s sources of information, Rothkopf warned it may trigger confusion and chaos, as the public then doubts scientific-based evidences, evidence-based news, as well as statements from experts, medical practitioners, scientists, as well as authorities.
Since Internet and social media platforms have been one of the major sources of information, people have dealt with the infodemic reality that has peaked during the pandemic.
Amira Hasna Ruzuar, a West Java-based active social media user, expressed greater concern over the fact that the threat could also corrupt reports published by news outlets, as they tend to create click-bait headlines to draw more readers.
“There were also occasions where news outlets or key opinion leaders drew inaccurate conclusions while reporting or referring to research findings or claims,” Ruzuar emphasized.
Ruzuar, 26, an active Twitter user and frequently browsing news online, said she had sometimes come across information uploaded by news outlets that was less critical, while the people expected them to be the most trusted source of information.
There is rising distrust to statements made by officials and self-proclaimed scientists widely cited by news outlets, she pointed out. Hence, she believes journalists should be more critical to cite certain statements.
“I do not believe that the government should be the sole source of (reliable) information because it has been opting to paint rather positive images on how it responds to COVID-19 when there has been an increasing surge of criticism from known medical, public health, and also public policy experts following the first outbreak,” she highlighted.
Ruzuar expects those in newsrooms, including journalists, to be more critical while citing statements and analyses from certain sources.
“I honestly would only trust several outlets that I know or that experts have claimed to have a good track record in reporting factual or credible information. I do not think that all information told by news outlets are reliable, especially when it is reported on online platforms, as online or digital news outlets tend to produce a plethora of news content, thereby consequently leaving little room for thorough fact-checking,” she remarked.
Ruzuar could be the only person or reader cited here, though her views were amplified by several social media users, both on Twitter and/or Facebook, who were dissatisfied with the inaccuracy in some media reports.
Meanwhile, among state actors, the Indonesian COVID-19 Handling Task Force offers the latest information — new cases, recoveries, and deaths — on COVID-19 in the country.
The Task Force diligently updates the public with the current information of COVID-19 by holding weekly press briefings and involving national media platforms, which constitutes an effort for transparency, particularly in terms of showing data.
“We are working with the data being collecting from all parts of the country, and all reports have been transparent and monitored by the public and the local and national media,” Task Force’s spokesman, Professor Wiku Adisasmito, stated.
Since its formation, the Task Force has been actively engaging the mass media to regularly update the public on the COVID-19 pandemic.
However, distrust or doubts still linger over the information that the public receives and also those offered to the people by mass media platforms.
Despite doubts expressed by some elements of the public, the Task Force has ensured transparency in the data it provided, both to the public and media. It has also urged the media and journalists to reflect such transparency in their reporting.
It seeks friendly relations with the media wherein the two parties work together to disseminate COVID-19 data and updates in order to keep the public informed.
“We are striving towards data transparency, and the media is our friend to really work together, not only in Indonesia but also for this region and the world,” Adisasmito affirmed.
The Task Force’s efforts to ensure media involvement reaffirm the significance of the media’s role in disseminating information during pandemic.
Media and journalist
Pertaining to this important role, the media and journalists must be sentient of their position and quality in covering and reporting news on the pandemic since the information provided through the news will certainly affect the public.
Mainstream media and its journalists have undoubtedly encountered numerous challenges in fulfilling duties and tasks amid the explosion of information on COVID-19, ranging from good quality to inconsequential.
In connection with the Indonesian media and journalists, news reporting on the COVID-19 issue by conventional mass media and online media in the country is generally quite informative and educative, Irwan Julianto, a health communication specialist as well as former senior journalist at Kompas daily, remarked.
However, Julianto remarked that disinformation and news framing based on unbalanced opinions and also manipulative information were still observed in some news on the COVID-19 issue in Indonesia.
For instance, he said, Tempo.co online media made a news title “Ikatan Dokter Indonesia Ancam Mogok Tangani Pasien Corona” (Indonesian Doctors Association threatens to strike and stop handling corona patients), when, in fact, the association along with four other health worker organizations actually gave a joint statement urging their members not to serve COVID-19 patients without adequate personal protective equipment.
“The online news title was never corrected by Tempo.co, although the content later contained a rebuttal from the association,” Julianto revealed.
Another issue pertaining to COVID-19 reporting is the “room for error” in picking credible sources that cannot be separated from the competence of journalists and the credibility of the concerned mass media, he stated.
Julianto further affirmed that some inaccuracy was observed in news reporting on the COVID-19 issue in Indonesia due to several online media in the country, particularly news and opinion portals, not being verified by the Indonesia Press Council.
Of the 40,000 news/opinion portals, only some 200 news portals had been verified by the council.
“Several fake news portals still exist that only look to stir a sensation of sorts. In fact, some verified news portals have also pursued views for their news with the so-called click-bait titles,” he stated.
Another point worth highlighting on the COVID-19 news reporting during the early days of the novel coronavirus disease entering Indonesia from January to February 2020 is that only a few mainstream media remind the government to be prompt and proactive in responding to a possible pandemic and to prioritize preparedness.
“It was only on the second of March when the first two cases of COVID-19 were announced. There was a stir in Indonesia. In fact, the central government, local governments, and journalists failed to safeguard the privacy of the first two Indonesians that contracted COVID-19,” Julianto pointed out.
In response to developments on COVID-19 news reporting by the mainstream media and its journalists, the Indonesian Press Council argued that the people should not judge the mass media in a generalized manner that all news coverage on COVID-19 are of poor quality as some committed errors.
Without ignoring the fact that some weaknesses were still found on the COVID-19 news reporting by media and journalists, the national press has always positively contributed to handling the pandemic, especially in terms of disseminating information, Chief of the Media Sustainability Task Force of the Indonesian Press Council Agus Sudibjo stated.
“When the government-health authorities call the press to make some public service announcement as well as to broadcast a conference and press release, press colleagues carry it out in a helpful manner. I think they make a significant contribution. However, we certainly need to evaluate some weaknesses,” Sudibjo pointed out.
He emphasized that weaknesses in news reporting by media and journalists do not only emerge specifically during this pandemic and had existed long before the pandemic struck.
For instance, using the so-called “click bait” titles and producing unsettling news are some problems that have existed in any other situation.
Nevertheless, he further called to curtail such weaknesses in news reporting and the tendency of mass media to manipulate the audience amid the pandemic, as it triggers distress and concerns among the people. Moreover, the mass media and the journalists might eventually lose their credibility.
“Thus, the general ideal conduct will be: reckless journalism — which ignores the accuracy of information, inconsiderate about the news impact on the public, making room for speculation — shall not be allowed in any kind of situation,” Sudibjo stressed.
Tackling misinformation
Perhaps the biggest mistake committed by the mass media nowadays is following the conduct of “the new kind of media” — the social media — that has its formula of rapidity and sensational information, with no expertise, but anybody can be an “expert”.
“Mass media shall not be following this (conduct) because if anyone is an ‘expert’, there must be a distrust in mass media since there is no difference between mass media and social media,” he stated.
“The social media tends to use click bait, misinformation, and disinformation. Social media … (is) our real enemy or maybe ‘frenemy’ (friend yet enemy) since both mass media and social media pursue the exact same thing, which is pursuing public attention and advertisement,” he affirmed.
Hence, the mass media should compete with social media in which the mass media should conduct itself differently by not producing and providing something that the public can easily obtain from social media.
“The only way that mass media could conduct itself to survive during this era of disruption — whether we want it or not — is good journalism. The global development trend has shown us that there is no space for mass media that defies the law of good journalism,” Sudibjo remarked.
Furthermore, not only competing with social media, conventional mass media should also conduct its function as the mainstream media by acting as a “clearing house” to help ward off misinformation, disinformation, and hoaxes related to COVID-19 that are milling about on social media.
“The conventional mass media and journalists should ideally act as the “clearing house”, which is a provider of truth and accurate information to tackle false information through accurate reporting,” Irwan Julianto, a former senior health journalist for Kompas daily, stated.
Julianto pointed out that more importantly, the duty of professional journalists and mass media is to edify and exercise social control. He also emphasized that public literacy is an important factor for people to gain accurate information.
“In the times of the global pandemic, it’ll be better if we all become more skeptical and critical of the various types of information we receive,” Julianto stated.
The COVID-19 pandemic currently ravaging the world can, in fact, be the time for the mass media and its journalists to assess the quality of information delivery and news reporting.
It is time for the mainstream media and journalists to engage in self-reflection and contemplation on whether they have practiced good journalism.
WHO Director-General Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus highlighted that all were not merely fighting an epidemic but an infodemic, pointing to fake news spreading more swiftly and easily than the virus and being just as harmful.
“We’re not just fighting an epidemic, we’re fighting an infodemic,” Ghebreyesus noted in his speech at Munich Security, February 15, while citing that “fake news spreads faster and more easily than this virus, and is just as dangerous.”
The WHO chief remarked that an infodemic could be more perilous than the unprecedented COVID-19 pandemic rattling the global health system.
However, what is an infodemic? It is an abbreviation for information and pandemic. David J. Rothkopf first coined the term “infodemic” in his news feature “When the Buzz Bites Back” at The Washington Post in 2003 when hundreds of people died of Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome (SARS).
In his article, Rothkopf, a political scientist-cum-journalist, defined infodemic as “few facts, mixed with fear, speculation, and rumor, amplified and relayed swiftly worldwide by modern information technologies, have affected national and international economies, politics, and even security in ways that are utterly disproportionate with the root realities”.
Rothkopf expounded that an infodemic is not merely false news or misperception to information, as “it is a complex phenomenon caused by the interaction of mainstream media, specialist media, and internet sites; and ‘informal’ media, which is to say wireless phones, text messaging, pagers, faxes and e-mail, all transmitting some combination of fact, rumor, interpretation and propaganda”.
When a series of virulent false news, misinformation, disinformation, and myth contaminate people’s sources of information, Rothkopf warned it may trigger confusion and chaos, as the public then doubts scientific-based evidences, evidence-based news, as well as statements from experts, medical practitioners, scientists, as well as authorities.
Since Internet and social media platforms have been one of the major sources of information, people have dealt with the infodemic reality that has peaked during the pandemic.
Amira Hasna Ruzuar, a West Java-based active social media user, expressed greater concern over the fact that the threat could also corrupt reports published by news outlets, as they tend to create click-bait headlines to draw more readers.
“There were also occasions where news outlets or key opinion leaders drew inaccurate conclusions while reporting or referring to research findings or claims,” Ruzuar emphasized.
Ruzuar, 26, an active Twitter user and frequently browsing news online, said she had sometimes come across information uploaded by news outlets that was less critical, while the people expected them to be the most trusted source of information.
There is rising distrust to statements made by officials and self-proclaimed scientists widely cited by news outlets, she pointed out. Hence, she believes journalists should be more critical to cite certain statements.
“I do not believe that the government should be the sole source of (reliable) information because it has been opting to paint rather positive images on how it responds to COVID-19 when there has been an increasing surge of criticism from known medical, public health, and also public policy experts following the first outbreak,” she highlighted.
Ruzuar expects those in newsrooms, including journalists, to be more critical while citing statements and analyses from certain sources.
“I honestly would only trust several outlets that I know or that experts have claimed to have a good track record in reporting factual or credible information. I do not think that all information told by news outlets are reliable, especially when it is reported on online platforms, as online or digital news outlets tend to produce a plethora of news content, thereby consequently leaving little room for thorough fact-checking,” she remarked.
Ruzuar could be the only person or reader cited here, though her views were amplified by several social media users, both on Twitter and/or Facebook, who were dissatisfied with the inaccuracy in some media reports.
Meanwhile, among state actors, the Indonesian COVID-19 Handling Task Force offers the latest information — new cases, recoveries, and deaths — on COVID-19 in the country.
The Task Force diligently updates the public with the current information of COVID-19 by holding weekly press briefings and involving national media platforms, which constitutes an effort for transparency, particularly in terms of showing data.
“We are working with the data being collecting from all parts of the country, and all reports have been transparent and monitored by the public and the local and national media,” Task Force’s spokesman, Professor Wiku Adisasmito, stated.
Since its formation, the Task Force has been actively engaging the mass media to regularly update the public on the COVID-19 pandemic.
However, distrust or doubts still linger over the information that the public receives and also those offered to the people by mass media platforms.
Despite doubts expressed by some elements of the public, the Task Force has ensured transparency in the data it provided, both to the public and media. It has also urged the media and journalists to reflect such transparency in their reporting.
It seeks friendly relations with the media wherein the two parties work together to disseminate COVID-19 data and updates in order to keep the public informed.
“We are striving towards data transparency, and the media is our friend to really work together, not only in Indonesia but also for this region and the world,” Adisasmito affirmed.
The Task Force’s efforts to ensure media involvement reaffirm the significance of the media’s role in disseminating information during pandemic.
Media and journalist
Pertaining to this important role, the media and journalists must be sentient of their position and quality in covering and reporting news on the pandemic since the information provided through the news will certainly affect the public.
Mainstream media and its journalists have undoubtedly encountered numerous challenges in fulfilling duties and tasks amid the explosion of information on COVID-19, ranging from good quality to inconsequential.
In connection with the Indonesian media and journalists, news reporting on the COVID-19 issue by conventional mass media and online media in the country is generally quite informative and educative, Irwan Julianto, a health communication specialist as well as former senior journalist at Kompas daily, remarked.
However, Julianto remarked that disinformation and news framing based on unbalanced opinions and also manipulative information were still observed in some news on the COVID-19 issue in Indonesia.
For instance, he said, Tempo.co online media made a news title “Ikatan Dokter Indonesia Ancam Mogok Tangani Pasien Corona” (Indonesian Doctors Association threatens to strike and stop handling corona patients), when, in fact, the association along with four other health worker organizations actually gave a joint statement urging their members not to serve COVID-19 patients without adequate personal protective equipment.
“The online news title was never corrected by Tempo.co, although the content later contained a rebuttal from the association,” Julianto revealed.
Another issue pertaining to COVID-19 reporting is the “room for error” in picking credible sources that cannot be separated from the competence of journalists and the credibility of the concerned mass media, he stated.
Julianto further affirmed that some inaccuracy was observed in news reporting on the COVID-19 issue in Indonesia due to several online media in the country, particularly news and opinion portals, not being verified by the Indonesia Press Council.
Of the 40,000 news/opinion portals, only some 200 news portals had been verified by the council.
“Several fake news portals still exist that only look to stir a sensation of sorts. In fact, some verified news portals have also pursued views for their news with the so-called click-bait titles,” he stated.
Another point worth highlighting on the COVID-19 news reporting during the early days of the novel coronavirus disease entering Indonesia from January to February 2020 is that only a few mainstream media remind the government to be prompt and proactive in responding to a possible pandemic and to prioritize preparedness.
“It was only on the second of March when the first two cases of COVID-19 were announced. There was a stir in Indonesia. In fact, the central government, local governments, and journalists failed to safeguard the privacy of the first two Indonesians that contracted COVID-19,” Julianto pointed out.
In response to developments on COVID-19 news reporting by the mainstream media and its journalists, the Indonesian Press Council argued that the people should not judge the mass media in a generalized manner that all news coverage on COVID-19 are of poor quality as some committed errors.
Without ignoring the fact that some weaknesses were still found on the COVID-19 news reporting by media and journalists, the national press has always positively contributed to handling the pandemic, especially in terms of disseminating information, Chief of the Media Sustainability Task Force of the Indonesian Press Council Agus Sudibjo stated.
“When the government-health authorities call the press to make some public service announcement as well as to broadcast a conference and press release, press colleagues carry it out in a helpful manner. I think they make a significant contribution. However, we certainly need to evaluate some weaknesses,” Sudibjo pointed out.
He emphasized that weaknesses in news reporting by media and journalists do not only emerge specifically during this pandemic and had existed long before the pandemic struck.
For instance, using the so-called “click bait” titles and producing unsettling news are some problems that have existed in any other situation.
Nevertheless, he further called to curtail such weaknesses in news reporting and the tendency of mass media to manipulate the audience amid the pandemic, as it triggers distress and concerns among the people. Moreover, the mass media and the journalists might eventually lose their credibility.
“Thus, the general ideal conduct will be: reckless journalism — which ignores the accuracy of information, inconsiderate about the news impact on the public, making room for speculation — shall not be allowed in any kind of situation,” Sudibjo stressed.
Tackling misinformation
Perhaps the biggest mistake committed by the mass media nowadays is following the conduct of “the new kind of media” — the social media — that has its formula of rapidity and sensational information, with no expertise, but anybody can be an “expert”.
“Mass media shall not be following this (conduct) because if anyone is an ‘expert’, there must be a distrust in mass media since there is no difference between mass media and social media,” he stated.
“The social media tends to use click bait, misinformation, and disinformation. Social media … (is) our real enemy or maybe ‘frenemy’ (friend yet enemy) since both mass media and social media pursue the exact same thing, which is pursuing public attention and advertisement,” he affirmed.
Hence, the mass media should compete with social media in which the mass media should conduct itself differently by not producing and providing something that the public can easily obtain from social media.
“The only way that mass media could conduct itself to survive during this era of disruption — whether we want it or not — is good journalism. The global development trend has shown us that there is no space for mass media that defies the law of good journalism,” Sudibjo remarked.
Furthermore, not only competing with social media, conventional mass media should also conduct its function as the mainstream media by acting as a “clearing house” to help ward off misinformation, disinformation, and hoaxes related to COVID-19 that are milling about on social media.
“The conventional mass media and journalists should ideally act as the “clearing house”, which is a provider of truth and accurate information to tackle false information through accurate reporting,” Irwan Julianto, a former senior health journalist for Kompas daily, stated.
Julianto pointed out that more importantly, the duty of professional journalists and mass media is to edify and exercise social control. He also emphasized that public literacy is an important factor for people to gain accurate information.
“In the times of the global pandemic, it’ll be better if we all become more skeptical and critical of the various types of information we receive,” Julianto stated.
The COVID-19 pandemic currently ravaging the world can, in fact, be the time for the mass media and its journalists to assess the quality of information delivery and news reporting.
It is time for the mainstream media and journalists to engage in self-reflection and contemplation on whether they have practiced good journalism.