Protests in Rabat, Morocco, February 2011. Photograph: Abdeljalil Bounhar/AP

On Thursday morning twelve student journalists from the U.S greeted me with great enthusiasm — they had witnessed their first news story in Morocco.  The night before, hundreds of young Moroccans, protesting the lack of jobs for university graduates here, surged along the grand avenue in front of the Moroccan Parliament,  eventually chased away by police.  (In Morocco, unemployment is 16 percent for university graduates,  above the national average.)

These protests have escalated since what in Morocco is called the “February 20^th Movement”  –the milder Moroccan version of Arab Spring.   Moroccans haven’t overthrown the monarch  —  in addition to their respect for the king, many Moroccans also seem to fear the disruption brought in other Arab Spring countries.  The king has instituted some  reforms such as, for the first time, the judiciary is now supposed to be an independent branch of government. Late last year Morocco held the first elections to Parliament under the new, slightly more progressive Constitution (a moderate Islamic party won but the King still holds ultimate  power here).

I’m proud of our students – they came away from the protest with contact information for student demonstrators and will follow up on this story, seeking to understand these protests that have been going on in one way or another for years.  I’ve heard Moroccans call their young protestors the original “Occupy” movement.  Who better than twelve very determined young American journalism students to understand and explore the motivations and challenges of young Moroccans?

Rabat, Morocco

The students arrive tomorrow.

The newsroom we are creating for our students in the heart of Rabat ‘s medina is as close to a US news bureau as one can find in this country, a country rife with protest and surrounded by Arab Spring revolutions. The US students will be paired with Moroccan journalism students who speak English.   Closely – and rigorously — mentored by me and Dr. Taieb Belghazi, a cultural studies professor at the University of Mohammad V in Rabat,

they will learn from Moroccan academics who study everything from literacy to women’s issues to Islamic movements along with a broad cross-section of Moroccans from rappers and film-makers to civil society groups working on issues such as domestic violence and legal reform.  This in-depth study of the issues will be combined with the mechanics and ethics of journalism along with intensive field reporting and rigorous editing.

I want to show these students first-hand how important, fascinating and rewarding it is to be a journalist in a world that’s more interconnected than ever before.  And what a difference one journalist can make.  I expect some insightful reporting from our newsroom in Morocco

“I was born in a harem in 1940 in Fez, Morocco…” thus begins Fatma Mernissi’s stereotype-busting account of her remarkable childhood.  Mernissi is a renowned Moroccan feminist and academic — her book has long been a favorite of mine.  Now I am in Morocco,  six days into what will be a four month stay, leading a journalism program which will pair American college students with Moroccan students at the University of Mohammad V to jointly report on a country where, just this week, three young college graduates set themselves on fire to protest the lack of jobs.

I’ve rented a house in the heart of Rabat’s 14^th century Medina, not unlike the one Mernissi grew up in (though, in the case of my house, its former grandeur has faded, as the Medina went from a bourgeois neighborhood to one that’s mostly middle or lower middle class).  That said, the gorgeous tile and plaster are intact along with the house’s prison-like qualities, designed to keep women sequestered from the public sphere.  It is disconcerting to be in a house without windows.  There’s a lovely rooftop but with high walls preventing a view of the street.  From the roof one sees the sky and the occasional satellite dish and mosque minaret.

Still, I am reminded that Mernessi’s book reveals a rich world on the roof, ruled by women, which created a remarkable sisterhood.  Perhaps it was that sisterhood we saw on the streets of Rabat this week, protesting the lack of women in Morocco’s new parliament.

Center for Cross-Cultural Learning in Rabat, Morocco

When I blog next it will be from the Center for Cross-Cultural Learning in the heart of the Medina in Rabat, Morocco.  This famed center, founded and directed by influential Moroccan academics, is the base for our collaboration with SIT Study Abroad.  CCCL is a center for cultural and educational activities on Moroccan society and Arab and Islamic cultures. This is a ground-breaking opportunity for students interested in global journalism, of course, but also a valuable resource for me and Round Earth Media, as we report, for the first time, from North Africa.   Stay tuned!

Many of the best of those journalists were born and raised in the countries where they are working.  They’ve received diplomas from the world’s finest academic institutions (ie Columbia University’s famed journalism masters from which graduates increasingly return to work in their home countries) and training through organizations like the International Center for Journalists, which, over 3 decades, has worked with tens of thousands of journalists around the world.

These journalists are our partners. They are not our fixers.  They are our equal partners in publishing and broadcasting jointly reported stories in the U.S. and in the countries where we are working.   Read the interview with Sarah Ooko on our homepage and you, too, will be optimistic about journalism in 2012.

Sarah Ooko

A big reason for the excellence of our East African coverage is Sarah Ooko, 27, a freelance journalist based in Nairobi. As a frequent contributor to The EastAfrican, Ooko’s stories are read throughout the region. When not reporting, she works at the Kenyan Alliance of Health and Science Reporters under another of her mentors, the Knight Health Fellow Rachel Jones. The work Ooko produced for Round Earth Media in partnership with Mary Stucky will be broadcast on NPR and other media outlets in the weeks to come.

What have other journalists taught you?

I always look up to journalists who are serious about what they do – those who are in this career not for what they can gain, but for what it enables them to do for mankind.

Such journalists have taught me that if I am looking for satisfaction in this field, I will not find it in the amount of money that I make, the fame that I get, nor from the number of stories that I write. It will only come from the impact that my stories have.

They have taught me to be bold and have faith in what I believe in. As a journalist I should not shy away from highlighting world injustices for fear of what other people may think or do to me. I need to do my part and let the society be the judge.

I have learned that I cannot afford to give up as millions of lives depend on me – as a journalist – to fight for them. The press has the power to talk about anything and be heard. However, that child who dies from an easily preventable disease or a mother who has been held captive by an abusive husband, can do nothing much. They are the voiceless in the society who rely on us.

What challenges about reporting in the field most surprised you?

I was surprised to learn that many people still do not understand the role and significance of the media. We represent the good and the bad in the society, yet we are often viewed as troublemakers.

In the midst of all this suspicion, many people and organizations become oblivious to the fact that through partnership with journalists, they can achieve a lot and benefit millions. That draft agricultural or health policy that has been gathering dust on the shelves for years may be passed in Parliament within a day if the press highlights the plight of drought-stricken families and deteriorating health status of impoverished communities, who also have the power to vote.

What keeps you going during tough assignments?

It is the desire to make a difference in the world or die trying.

Doctors do their best to treat me. Teachers do their best to give me knowledge. Farmers do their best to feed me. Everyone is doing something in the world for me. I need to play my part, too; I cannot let them down. This is my turf – if it has got to be done through journalism, then I just have to do it.

What predicted you would be a global journalist?

Due to the nature of my father’s job (he is a civil servant), we moved to different parts of the country, which exposed me to different cultures. Kenya has more than 42 ethnic tribes, each with a unique culture.

I was also an avid reader, and we would watch and listen to news from local and international news outlets. I realized that even though we all come from diverse backgrounds, we are still somewhat interconnected as world citizens. Since I was raised not only as a Kenyan but as a child of the world, I wanted my passion to encompass both worlds.

As a reporter, whose backpack would you like to ride along in?

I have made it my goal in life to reach out to the most vulnerable in the society. Theirs are the backpacks I would like to ride along in, especially women and children in forgotten corners of the world. I would like to experience what they go through in their day-to-day lives, their challenges and dreams, so that I can represent them well in my stories.

I would also like to ride along the backpacks of journalists who have made an impact in this world. One is the late Mohamed Amin, who brought the world’s attention to the crisis of the 1984 Ethiopian famine.

Backpacks of other historical figures such as the Late Nobel Laureate Prof. Wangari Maathai and Mother Theresa are also worth the ride. It is my hope that by the time I am done in this lifetime, I will have used my journalism career and passion in service of others.

What do you think about the future of international journalism?

To me, just as most Africans, international journalism often refers to news coming from big western media outlets like BBC and CNN. As much as they make us aware of world happenings (and this is really good), the information is not always balanced, especially towards developing nations. Stories about Africa are often laced with biased opinions and negativity. It is more of what the developed world thinks of our situation, and not how we interpret it ourselves.

Since education levels are soaring high in the continent, more and more people are gradually becoming aware of these prejudices, and losing faith in these institutions.

I appreciate that some effort has been made by most international media outlets to rectify this problem, but it is still not enough. And this is not only an African story, but that of other developing nations as well.

It may take a long time before Africa establishes major news outlets that can effectively tell our side of the story to all corners of the world. In the meantime, since all media institutions thrive on numbers, they will have no choice but to change. One of the ways to attain that ultimate goal is through genuine partnership, especially among all international journalists.

What is it like working with Round Earth Media?

Sometimes, when foreign journalists cover stories in Africa, they claim to work with the local journalists, but instead reduce them to “helpers” who tag along to make their life comfortable in the new setting. And that’s just it. The foreign journalists ask all the questions and produce the stories alone without consultation. The result is often a biased story that is far from the real picture on the ground.

Round Earth Media is different. I was involved in the whole process, including the generation of the story idea and had the rare opportunity to represent Africans and Kenya objectively (in an international medium), as we discussed various aspects of the story together. I was a journalist throughout.

Mareike Nessen assisted in compiling this piece.

In India, aborting a fetus based on its sex is illegal, but the practice is common due to a societal preference for boys. Up to 12 million abortions have occurred as a result of sex selection. Reporter Hanna Ingber Win gains unusual insight into this quiet practice and its implication for one family near Mumbai.

Listen to this story

Forty miles outside Mumbai stands a large farmhouse painted cream with red trim. Inside, it is airy and welcoming.

Sixteen-year-old Shriti (not her real name) shows me the large terrace, the living room, her bedroom.

“Two girls here, two girls there, and my mom and dad sleep in the living room,” she says.

Shriti is one of four girls. She has no brothers.

That is unusual in India. According to the most recent census, the country has far more boys than girls.

Public health experts say the skewed sex ratio is the result of an illegal but increasingly common practice, one that Shriti’s parents engaged in while attempting to have a son. It is a practice few talk about openly.

The Pressure for Sons

Shriti’s father – we’ll call him Sanjay – works at a chemical company, where he earns about $5,000 a year. That is a decent middle-class salary here, but it “does not suffice,” Sanjay says.

Having four girls is expensive.

For his first daughter’s wedding, Sanjay spent about $9,000 – almost twice his annual income. (He says it was just your average Indian wedding.) Sanjay plans to take out loans to provide his other three daughters with weddings and possible dowries.

Despite the financial burden, Sanjay says he is content having girls.

“I am happy with what I have,” he says.

But after Sanjay leaves for work, his wife – we’ll call her Anu – has an opportunity to talk. She wears a blue sari, and she has a red bindi on her forehead.

Anu tells a very different story.

“My husband would say, ‘Who will take care of me when I’m old? That’s why you need a son. Girls will get married and go to their husband’s house. Who will take care of us?’ It went on like that, him saying, ‘We want a son, we want a son.’”

Anu says the pressure to have a son grew throughout her marriage. It came from both her husband and her mother-in-law.

So she kept getting pregnant. But with each birth came the bad news: a girl.

A Doctor’s Advice

When she was pregnant with her fourth child, she took some advice from her gynecologist. The doctor told Anu there was a radiologist in a nearby town who could tell her if she was pregnant with a girl or a boy.

It is illegal in India for doctors to tell women the sex of their fetus and for women to have abortions based on that information, but the laws are not enforced, and women can easily find out which clinics break the rules.

Anu went to the radiologist and had an ultrasound done. She waited until the fifth month of her pregnancy because she was under the misimpression that the radiologist could only then make out the fetus’s gender. She returned home with the news.

“I told my family that I was pregnant with a girl,” she says. “So I aborted it.”

Anu got pregnant again and learned it was also a girl. She decided to go through with the birth. That child was daughter Shriti.

Then Anu got pregnant three more times.

“I wanted at least one son – from anywhere – and that’s why I fasted a lot and I prayed to God,” she says.

But each time, she went to the radiologist and learned the bad news: a girl. She aborted each one.

Anu is now 50 and can no longer get pregnant, but she can’t completely move on. She says the four abortions haunt her.

“I feel a very strong connection to the pregnancies,” she says. “Even now, I remember them all. When I sit doing nothing, I remember them all.”

Now, every time something goes wrong in her life, she thinks she is being punished. When her husband gets sick, she blames the abortions. When she has trouble finding suitable husbands for her daughters, she blames the abortions.

Anu used to pray and ask for a son. Now, she prays and asks for forgiveness.

“I aborted a child,” she says. “I feel I’ve sinned.”

Future Prospects

Anu’s struggles are reflective of what many families in India face. As Indians become more prosperous and have access to technology that can tell them the sex of a fetus, they are increasingly choosing to abort their girls.

Demographers and health activists predict that in time the bias against daughters will fade as women achieve higher education levels and greater status in society.

Anu says she won’t encourage her daughters to have sex-selective abortions. She doesn’t want them to go through what she experienced.

And yet when Anu’s oldest daughter recently gave birth to her first child, Anu was worried that it would be a girl. That would have ruined the marriage prospects for Anu’s other three daughters.

Luckily for the entire family, she says, it was a boy.

By Hanna Ingber Win

Listen to this story.

The following is a transcript. To listen to the broadcast, please click on the link above.

[Sound from TV show trailer]

Mary Stucky: That’s the trailer from a three-part miniseries on Georgian TV – a pregnant woman is brutally murdered – her husband is charged with the crime – a jury decides his fate.

[Sound from the show of a jury arguing as it deliberates]

Mary Stucky: The miniseries debuted on October 1 – that’s the same day Georgia began offering jury trials just for murder cases in and around the capital Tibilisi.

[Sound  from trailer to the end (it’s dramatic)]

Jared Kimball: I never thought when I took the job that I would be working on screenplays that would introduce Georgians to the jury system.

Mary Stucky: That’s Jared Kimball… an American lawyer from Spokane who grew up watching TV courtroom dramas  like LA Law. He was assigned the task of writing the TV scripts as part of a U.S. justice department program in Georgia.

Roland Vashagashvili: I am a career prosecutor, but I really wanted to write these to be even so that the juries had a lot to wrestle with. We would use a famous Georgian, an actor, a sports figure, to be in the jury as a way to draw attention so as they were flipping channels they might see someone famous on the jury and keep watching.  I think it worked.

Mary Stucky: It seems to have worked for this Tibilisi resident, Roland Vashagashvili.

Male, speaking Georgian: Here’s the translation: I have seen the TV show. After watching the show, I have a more positive view of juries, even though the show was too theatrical for me.

Mary Stucky: Still, others remain skeptical.

[Street sound]

Mary Stucky: Nino Danelia, who lives in Tiblisi,  says she’s worried about jury duty.

Woman, speaking English: I am very afraid that one day I receive a notice and say I have to go to the court and have a decision. I can sentence him and I can be wrong. I don’t think I dare to judge others.

Mary Stucky: And Ana Panisashvili says it’s going to take a lot more than a TV show to get Georgians to accept juries.

Female, speaking Georgian: Here’s the translation: Georgian society is not trustful, especially regarding the court. People think juries could be bribed just as easily as judges.

Mary Stucky: In fact, Georgians rank the judiciary as the most corrupt institution in the country.  U.S. District Judge John Tunheim has been working with judges in Georgia.

Judge John Tunheim: There clearly is corruption there, and I think that the jury is going to decide whether the person is guilty or not guilty, not the judge.  Get people involved in very important decision-making and take it away from a judiciary that people widely view as corrupt.

Mary Stucky: Georgia’s Supreme Court Assistant Chief Justice  Zaza Meishvili  is considered to be one of the country’s young reformers.  Meishvili thinks serving on juries will make Georgians more engaged citizens.

Speaking Georgian: Here’s the translation: We are not only ready to delegate our power to the juries, we are also happy, because giving power to them to make the decision is a big step forward on the way to the democratization of the country.

Mary Stucky: So far, no defendant has chosen a jury trial. But Jared Kimball expects it to happen anytime now.

Jared Kimball: I think people will be ready for that first trial, and I’ll be in the front row.

Mary Stucky: And that trial will be for real. If it goes well in Tiblisi, jury trials will expand to other parts of Georgia and could include crimes in addition to murder.

For The World, I’m Mary Stucky.

Reporter Ketevan Vashagashvili contributed to this story from Georgia.

Hilarion Guia, former resident of Culion Island and now its first mayor. | Photo: Katherine Jack

Culion is a beautiful and remote tropical island in the western Philippines — but it is an island with a dark history. It was once the world’s largest colony for people with leprosy. At its peak, Culion Island was home to 16,000 patients. But today, as Mary Stucky reports, this place that was once called the land of the living dead, has undergone a remarkable transformation.

Listen to the audio

The following is a transcript. To listen to the broadcast, please click on the link above.

[Sound of a motorboat]

Mary Stucky: As our outrigger boat approaches Culion Island, the vista is breathtaking — jade-colored hills plunge into blue-green water. But on the steep slope above the wharf is an ominous sign: white stones placed in the shape of a huge eagle. That symbol was constructed almost 100 years ago and is a sign of disease on the island.

Nestor Lisboa: “When they reach the wharf, most of them don’t want to get out of the boat. Some even jump to the sea.”

Stucky: Long-time Culion resident Nestor Lisboa is talking about the people with leprosy who were brought here, many against their will, and isolated because of their stigmatized disease.

[Sound of roosters and community sounds and motorcycles]

Stucky: Lisboa grew up on Culion, where his father worked for the telephone company. He did not have leprosy – some people on the island were healthy. The two groups were strictly separated.

Lisboa: “And that is very tragical because the harm, the attitude of the non-leper, that they treat patients, a stigma so deep…sorry” [he is emotional and unable to continue]

Stucky: With that terrible stigma, most people gave up hope of being cured or ever seeing their families again. Hilarion Guia contracted leprosy as a child and was sent to Culion Island when he was just 8 years old.

Hilarion Guia: “I was asking myself what is this place that I was brought? I could see some people and almost all of the people are having this kind of appearance very, very, horrible.”

Stucky: Leprosy can cause horrible disfigurement to a person’s skin, limbs and eyes. It is one of the oldest and most feared diseases. While leprosy is not highly contagious, it was historically believed to be so. It was incurable until the 1980s, when the World Health Organization recommended a multi-drug therapy that was effective against the disease. Dr. Arturo Cunanan is considered a local hero for administering these drugs — though it wasn’t until 1998 that all of the island’s residents were cured.

Dr. Arturo Cunanan: “I call it a transformation. And with the control of leprosy, there is a lot of development both in terms of infrastructures and also in the minds of the people. Stigma and discrimination has no more place in society today.”

Stucky: And with that transformation, the people of Culion are no longer isolated. In fact, they have invited the world to visit them and their island home, which has retained its pristine natural beauty.

[Sound of waves ]

Stucky: There’s a new eco-hotel, and tourists can enjoy a mountainous landscape with diverse species – from anteaters to sea turtles and parrots. The island’s coral reefs harbor 20 species of butterfly fish. There’s a beautiful old Spanish fort and church. And even a history museum with all sorts of medical equipment and mementos, including money, since people with leprosy had their own currency. Tourists are enthralled with the island’s history and its traditional ways.

Tourist: “I see Culion as still a preserved environment; the people itself still the old Filipino hospitality, customs are still with them.”

Tourist: “ I think the history is something that they can be proud of. The people, they are very nice and humble but they are very poor.”

Stucky: Local pastor Father Xavier Alpasa wants to change that. He’s spearheading the new eco-hotel and teaching a course at the local college on entrepreneurial tourism. His efforts seem to be paying off: the number of visitors to the island more than doubled between 2008 and 2009. Father Xavier thinks tourism can bring economic development to Culion Island.

Father Xavier Alpasa: “We don’t want Culion to be a place of noisy bars and hundreds and hundreds of tourists going around. We envision Culion to be more serene, laid back, quiet, secluded. I believe the history of Culion has spoken, and it presents to us a message that Culion is a place for healing.”

Stucky: No one knows that better than Hilarion Guia. After he was cured of leprosy, he became a beloved schoolteacher on the island and then Culion Island’s first elected mayor.

For the World Vision Report, I’m Mary Stucky.

Reporter Katherine Jack contributed to this story.