The training story … so far

Esther Nakkazi, one of the journalists on the programme, writes of her impressions thus far.

It must be the sound of the word. Galamsey. Galamesy! Why else would it make such a deep impression on us Ugandan participants that we now jokingly refer to ourselves as galamseys?

“Hey, how are you galamsey?” That is how we greet each other whenever we gather at the ACME training centre for this or that engagement relating to our training to report the oil and gas sector better.

In bandying the noun about, though, I am not sure we always remember that it speaks to an important issue in the extractive business: the condition of the smaller, informal players, mostly from the community neighbouring mines, or even oil fields. According to Wikipedia, galamseys are local artisanal gold miners in Ghana, working independent of mining companies, digging small workings (pits, tunnels and sluices) by hand. They are economically disadvantaged and are prone to accidents.

According to some of our Ghanaian counterparts, the word galamsey is a local corruption of the phrase: ‘Get them and sell them’. Them being gold. This we were told while on a field trip to gold mines in Obuasi and Kenyasi in Ghana during the first part – Course A – of the training in January 2011.

Although Ghana and Uganda are new to oil and gas, Ghana has a much longer experience in the extractives business. Therefore while we shared experience on oil with fellow Ghanaian trainees, we did more of the listening and learning regarding the gold business.

Months after returning from Ghana, we embarked on Course B, which also entailed classroom training (at the ACME training centre in Kampala), exposure to important sources in the sector, and reporting trips to the oil fields. Watching the rig at Mpyo-C in operation was quite an experience as it helped us appreciate the skill required in the sector. And, we must have brought good luck because the rig, which was drilling up to about 560 metres, struck oil.

Mr. Reuben Kashambuzi, a geophysicist and a doyen of the Ugandan oil exploration story who is now the chief technical advisor to the government, made a most impressive presentation. But he blew the roof off when he showed us oil samples from the different wells at room temperature – all black and waxy; with one sample smelling like black Kiwi shoe polish. Okay, the point was to demonstrate what it would mean for Uganda to export such waxy, onshore crude through the Kenyan seaport of Mombasa, which is a good 1,300km away. This compares unfavourably with Ghanaian oil, which is offshore and is light and does not therefore require any heating to flow through the pipeline.

At the end of each day’s training we – participants and trainers – gathered in a circle outside the room to throw around a ball from one to the other. Whoever got the ball had to say the one or two things he or she learnt that day, or the story idea that was found compelling, or even the best quote. Because you would not want to get the ball and have nothing sensible to say, this simple ritual compelled us to pay keen attention throughout the day. “Pass the ball” also allowed one to listen to other participants’ story ideas, for instance, and compare with one’s own. Not a bad way to learn some stuff.

And through all this we had to come up with actual stories. For Course B, those stories had to be of publishable quality, and indeed were. Thanks to the trainers and mentors. We hope as journalists going through this training programme we can report as comprehensively as possible and in so doing contribute to the achievement of transparency in the quickly evolving oil and gas sector in Uganda.

I feel this training has helped start a useful conversation about oil and gas, about the extractive sector, and brought sources closer to the trainees. Can’t ask for more as a journalist. Or is it galamsey.