Written for Panache Magazine 2021 Edition
She is sitting there, legs crossed, wearing a large colorful sweatshirt, a pair of leggings and sneakers. Hair tight in a bun, she looks at us confidently, her eyes drawn by tiredness. When we ask how she is doing, she confirms, she is tired. Being one of those journalists who still goes on the ground at the moment – and they are not so many – is exhausting. She is not tall, but her laugh is. And it fills the room with a frank joy.
Iman Amrani is a journalist for The Guardian, the second most popular online newspaper in the UK. In the first episode of her most recent series on masculinity, a short-format series of videos in which she questions the definition of a man nowadays, she describes herself as “Half Muslim, half white, young and millennial”. Algerian from her father, English from her mother, Iman is a multi-cultural, multitasker journalist who covered some of the most scorching subjects within the last few years. From terrorist attacks in Europe to the erupting volcano in Guatemala, she hands the microphone to marginalized voices, highlights minority issues. “My aim is to find the back story and get access to the difficult places where the real stories lie,” reads her website.
And indeed, she tells real stories. In 2017, she covered the Grenfell Tower drama. In June 2017 in one of London’s wealthiest boroughs, a social housing project caught fire, the sadly famous Grenfell Tower. That day, 72 people died. “So many people died, she recalls, mostly black or Muslim people”. When she has arrived on the scene in the middle of the day, the building was still on fire. “No government came to help, she explains, they were scared, the government was scared, they were like, who’s gonna take the blame?” She pursues with seriousness: “I remember seeing pages of a comic book, and I was thinking it’s a kid’s book and the kid is probably dead now”. Goosebumps spread into the room. Nobody moved, too afraid to be seen as responsible for the disaster. Churches, mosques and local people helped, brought clothes, food, but it wasn’t enough. How did she handle to cope with her emotions? “I did feel emotional”, she admits, “but I didn’t cry in public, I cried when I got home”.
While she was sitting on a bed in a gym turned into a shelter, another emotion took over: indignation. “I was angry, she says, I was like this is disgusting, this is really bad”. She knew she would not interview the family members: “I saw journalists from the BBC asking things like “How traumatizing is it?” to the victims, the families. This is disgusting to me like really, I can’t do that.” What did she need to do? How could she be responsible? How could she be useful and creative? Iman found a response in culture. She explains : “I decided to talk to a rapper called AJ Tracey, he’s young, he’s from the area, he knows people who lived in Grenfell, he represents the community. » The result to that is a video and a fascinating discussion with the rapper about the lack of response from the government in such a rich area.
Culture is a passion that leads Iman’s steps. She has interviewed and written about many artists from the hip-hop scene as it is a part of her identity: “I’ve always loved hip hop,” she says, wearing streetwear from head to toe. “In those times, you don’t have freedom in the real world. In culture, Iman says, you can get free and let your imagination work.” For her, when one is not happy with the world, culture is the place where they can invent a better world. In 2017, she followed the now-internationally-known Traoré family for a report. The prism of culture appeared clearly because activist French rappers were already involved. Police brutality is a topic Youssoupha and Kery James tackle very often in their lyrics. Hence they did not hesitate to fight alongside Adama’s family. Iman chose to report on a concert organized to support the struggle. The video, punctuated by rhythmic beats, emphasizes how the whole family, and Assa in the front line, is fighting for justice. According to her, hip-hop allows to turn a depressing story into a message of hope.
Journalism for her, is the truth, first and foremost. There is a responsibility of being honest. “What are we saying to the young generations?” she asks, sharply. Trust is also crucial. “I produce, presents, sets up everything, decides the idea, the concept, who I’m going to talk to,” she says. But she loves that: “I get to protect people who I talk to”. Nothing to take pride of, according to her. “There is too much ego in this industry,” she says, before laughing out loud at her proud Algerian heritage. “You have to keep a distance, I’m not an activist, I’m not on anybody’s team,” she adds. Nevertheless, the perspective she chooses for her reports speaks for her. When we thank her, she instantly grabs her phone and dives back in her hectic life of a bold journalist on the spot.
Photo : Mary Carson
Juliette Fever 