When interviews become missed opportunities
THOMAS NKHOMA | Monday September 8, 2025 15:34
One of the first lessons drilled into journalism students is that interviews are never casual conversations. They are structured encounters where the journalist represents the public, armed with questions that demand clarity, truth, and accountability. I recall my own time as a journalism student at the Harare Polytechnic’s Mass Communication Department, where we underwent rigorous training in interviewing techniques. We were taught not just how to pose questions but how to read silences, how to follow up evasions, and how to maintain composure in the face of hostility. Those mock interviews felt theatrical at the time, but they revealed a truth I hold to this day. The moment an interviewee refuses to engage honestly, the citizen - the very heartbeat of democracy - is the one shortchanged. Unfortunately, in many young democracies, including Botswana, this lesson seems lost on too many public officials. Journalists routinely encounter evasions, half-answers, and outright hostility when trying to probe matters of national importance. Instead of clarity, the public is given smoke. Instead of accountability, the airwaves are filled with platitudes. Such moments matter more than officials often realise. Every time a minister dodges a question about corruption or an official dismisses a journalist’s inquiry on service delivery, the interview ceases to serve the public interest. It becomes a missed opportunity, wasted airtime that could have empowered citizens with knowledge about how their government functions. This is not unique to Botswana. Across the globe, journalists face similar struggles. In South Africa, for instance, former president Jacob Zuma became notorious for ducking pointed questions about State capture and corruption.
Press conferences descended into shouting matches as officials sought to control the narrative rather than answer for the looting of public funds. The result was not merely political theatre but a collapse in public trust. Citizens concluded that their leaders could not be relied upon to tell the truth when it mattered most. The same dynamics are visible in the United States, where politicians on both sides of the divide often use interviews to peddle talking points rather than grapple with tough questions. President Donald Trump, for example, frequently lashes out at journalists who press him on matters of national importance, even labelling some “fake.” Such tactics, designed to delegitimise the media, ultimately weaken democracy by eroding the channels through which citizens hold power to account. Botswana may not face the same intensity of political scandal or media hostility but the seeds of a troubling pattern are visible. Too often, officials speak only when it suits them, avoid direct questioning or provide vague answers couched in bureaucratic jargon. Citizens notice. Civil servants, businesspeople, farmers, and unemployed youth all understand when leaders are dodging the truth. They may not articulate it in academic terms, but the frustration is palpable: “Why will they not just answer the question?” This disillusionment gnaws away at public trust, making citizens cynical about both government and the media that fails to extract answers.
Yet journalists are not blameless in this equation. A weak or poorly prepared interviewer can squander an opportunity just as badly as an evasive official. In the United Kingdom, the BBC’s Jeremy Paxman once famously asked then-Home Secretary Michael Howard the same question 12 times in a row because Howard refused to give a straight answer. That moment has become a case study in journalistic persistence. Contrast that with interviews in which journalists, either out of fear or lack of preparation, fail to press the point. In such cases, the official walks away unscathed, and the public is left with little more than soundbites. In Botswana, where democratic traditions remain relatively young and fragile, such dynamics carry heavy implications. The country’s citizens depend on the media to probe pressing issues: how resources are allocated, why certain communities remain underserved, what the government is doing to address unemployment, climate change, and corruption. If these questions go unanswered because journalists do not push hard enough or because officials are allowed to dodge with impunity, then interviews become rituals without substance. Worse, they signal to citizens that accountability is optional rather than essential. The truth is that every interview involving a public official is a civic exercise, not a personal favour. When a minister sits across from a journalist, they are not speaking to the reporter alone but to the nation. The questions represent the concerns of taxpayers and the answers, however uncomfortable, are owed to the people. For this reason, government officials must treat interviews not as inconveniences or ambushes but as opportunities to explain policy, clarify decisions, and reassure citizens. In the absence of transparency, rumours and misinformation fill the void, creating precisely the sort of information disorders that now plague democracies worldwide.
What then must be done? Journalists must sharpen their techniques. They must research relentlessly, anticipate evasions, and maintain composure even in the face of hostility. Techniques such as the “bomb question” at the end of an interview are not gimmicks but essential tools for pinning down accountability. At the same time, the media houses themselves must create a culture of editorial independence and back their journalists when officials push back. Without institutional support, even the most skilled journalist may be cowed into silence. On the other side, government officials must embrace accountability as a principle, not a burden. If democracy is to flourish, leaders must acknowledge that scrutiny is not sabotage and that a tough question is not an act of hostility but an invitation to explain and to lead. Botswana’s democratic journey will be judged not only by its peaceful elections or well-drafted policies but by the everyday willingness of its leaders to face the public square, including the sometimes-uncomfortable space of a probing interview. In the end, the equation is simple: interviews can either serve the public interest, clarifying, enlightening, and holding leaders accountable, or they can become missed opportunities that leave citizens more confused than informed. For a developing country like Botswana, with so much at stake in terms of governance, development, and public trust, we cannot afford the latter. Interviews are not theatre. They are democracy in action.
*Thomas Thos Nkhoma, MISA-Botswana chairperson