Latest News Archive

Please select Category, Year, and then Month to display items
Previous Archive
12 December 2018 | Story Mothepane Lebopo

The door closed. My eyes opened.

My dreams were halted as I sat up. She was already outside my window, the midnight moonlight lit her skin and erasing my fingertips on her arms. I opened the window… cold truth blew in. It stung my heart. She was going.

“Seriously? After four months this is how you are going to leave?”

Silence.

She was trying to control her breathing, to keep it as flat as possible. She had a unique, annoying gift of being able to compose herself in such situations, especially when she knew it was needed.

She stared at me.

My heart was pounding against my chest. In anger. In desperation. It had settled on her, but clearly she wouldn’t let me get close to hers.

I felt the first tear roll down my cheek. I quickly wiped away the second one. She just stared…

She could have been looking at me, thinking of other things. With her you never knew. She turned.

“Wait, please wait. Did you ever love me?”

She stuck her tongue out and left.

And I knew that was it: we were over. Thinking back, I might have known for a while that it was coming. But still… being prepared for something doesn’t guarantee your heart won’t break when it actually happens.

I left the window open, slightly. My head was spinning and my heart was tearing.

I laid on what was supposed to be our bed and dug my head in a pillow in an attempt to block out reality. It was useless; warm liquid from my broken heart poured out through my eyes. All I could smell was her.

But what was I expecting? It could never work. We were two puzzle pieces from different sets. Two pieces that were never supposed to fit… We tried to force it, and it ended in pain.

She was such an odd person. She had this ‘forbidden love’ thing about her. Being hers was strange, I knew she wasn't mine but I still tumbled head over heels. Being with her was like cheating on a diet. Or texting when you’re supposed to study.

She had beautiful, wild eyes that had perhaps seen too much. She got high on other people’s vulnerability. When her arms locked around me, she wasn’t just holding me, she was searching for pain. Insecurity. She would pin me down and kiss my nose. When she felt my guard coming up, she would tickle me and my power would leave me and enter her. She always won.

Often we’d try to watch the stars. I could never concentrate, her beauty was fierce and demanded undivided attention. She couldn’t focus either. She looked at the stars, not for their beauty, but for adventure. She looked at them as a guide.

I felt her hot blood in her embrace, she had to move to keep cool. There was rarely a still moment. Always dancing. Always moving.

I guess that’s what attracted me to her. I made her my adventure. I wanted to see what she had seen. I told her I was happy where I was but in reality I wanted to go everywhere she went. Wherever the stars would take her.

My lips only met hers when she was drunk. Perhaps she didn’t want to remember showing a little bit of emotion, being a bit vulnerable in front of me. But even then she rarely shared her thoughts with me.

So her secrets are still with her, while she knows mine.

That wild girl, may I never hold her again. She said she didn’t like it. She wanted to feel liberated. And my arms didn’t offer her that.

The girl with a storm in her heart had started a fire in mine and left.

I look out the window, where she had been standing. I almost smiled. What was I thinking?  Thinking I could fix her? Whether I love her or hate her, it makes no difference because she’s not here. She’s not coming back.

I will never know what exactly she wanted with me. But I’ll grow wiser from this.

You can’t teach someone who’s power hungry to surrender. You can’t mould someone who despises being held. You can’t put out a wild fire. Don’t try to pick wild flowers, because their thorns will pierce your skin and then they will wither because of your blood. But their scent will linger forever.

Now I know. You can’t tame someone who is wild. You shouldn’t offer your heart to someone who has sold her soul to adventure.

Don’t try to love someone who can’t be still.

 

News Archive

Photo manipulation in journalism: evil, crutch or lifebuoy?
2017-09-04

Description: Albe Grobbelaar Tags: Photo manipulation, Albe Grobbelaar, Albe, OJ Simpson, journalism, Department of Communication Science, Communication Science   

Albe Grobbelaar, veteran journalist and lecturer in the
Department of Communication Science at the UFS.
Photo: Rulanzen Martin


Since the 1800s the manipulation of photographs has been common practice, and who can forget the OJ Simpson Time magazine cover in 1994? Albe Grobbelaar, lecturer in the Department of Communication Science at the University of the Free State (UFS), asked in a special lecture on 18 August 2017 whether “Photo manipulation in Journalism” was an evil habit, a crutch or a lifebuoy.

“As a journalist I have always been interested in photography. And the principle of photo manipulation or tampering with photos, as we call it, is something that has interested me ever since,” Grobbelaar said. Photo manipulation is an area that has garnered many academic interest and is not a new trend but a practice that started in the 1830s when photos came into popular use. “It is not always done with ulterior motives, artists played with photographs to get unique effects.” Photo manipulation is not only to create fake news, but is sometimes used to convey novelty and create shock to news readers. 

Different viewpoints for different circumstances
He talked about the spectrum of viewpoints on photo manipulation. Some conservative journalism schools say photos should never be retouched while other feel it is fine to tamper with pictures. “What I tried to convey in the lecture was that one should consider different circumstances differently,” Grobbelaar said. As a journalist he believes that news photos should never be manipulated.

He mentioned the example of the mugshot of OJ Simpson that the Los Angeles Police Department released to the media. “Newsweek and Time both used the photo on their front pages, but Time deliberately darkened the picture so that OJ, a black man, would appear more sinister,” Grobbelaar said. It is, however, common practice in the fashion industry to retouch images that are used in fashion magazines. 

Use own judgment to validate photos
In the age of social media it has become easy to manipulate photos and which has been labelled fake news. “I would advise people to use their own judgment when validating the authenticity of photos,” Grobbelaar said. It is important to verify whether they are from a reliable news outlet.

We use cookies to make interactions with our websites and services easy and meaningful. To better understand how they are used, read more about the UFS cookie policy. By continuing to use this site you are giving us your consent to do this.

Accept