If you’ve been declared mentally unfit enough to work in any given newsroom, you would at some stage have heard the term “if it bleeds it leads”.
Good rarely sells newspapers. Good news is not shared on Facebook, Twitter, that community WhatsApp group or even my word of mouth. We respond to the alerts when death and horror are revealed.
As humans and journalists, we have been brainwashed to seek out the worst of what society has to offer. We want to know how many people were killed in that car crash on the highway. We argue about the exact number of farmers that have been murdered in this country over the last decade.
We follow each and every minute of every Pistorius, van Breda or any killer’s court appearance. Yes, we want to know just how much money corrupt government officials are stealing because being informed is so important these days.
Not that we do much with this abundance of information. Community policing forum memberships aren’t exactly increasing. We stay huddled in our homes and when we are faced with an opportunity to help someone who is suffering, we tend to look the other way.
It was, therefore, such a heartening experience when billions of people from all walks of life showed such keen interest in the well-being of those 12 Thai boys and their coach who were stuck in a cave.
People actually cared for a change. Everyone hoped and prayed for the Hollywood ending that managed to bump the blood and guts off the front pages – albeit only for a day or two.
A great deal of faith in humanity that had seemingly been lost in these dark times we live in was briefly restored, and many of us now have renewed hope that more positive news will start replacing the all too familiar doom and gloom we are so constantly subjected to.
Throughout this #thaicaverescue ordeal, a good friend and mother of a five-year-old boy made it her mission to keep me updated as the story unfolded.
When the rescue teams arrived I was informed. She sent links about the pending monsoon rains that could easily have ruined all chances of a successful rescue.
When former Thai Navy Seal Saman Gunan died, she immediately let me know.
When the first, second, third … boy was reunited with their families she continued to send updates. This routine persisted until the coach finally emerged from the murky waters.
At one point I thought she might be related to one of the children. Meeting up for coffee, it was clear that she had endured sleepless nights as she worried about the soccer team’s fate. It really stressed her out and I know that millions, if not billions, of people around the globe, had similar experiences.
As the clouds of darkness lifted, so did her spirit. She looked at her five-year-old with new eyes and it was clear that the experience had, in some weird way, made her an even better mommy than what she already is.
My hope today is that this tale will play some role in shaping a better world and a better future for everyone who lives in it.
But perhaps it is true that sometimes we all need to spend some time in a cave, in darkness, with little hope of survival.
I mean, if not for this, how else would we appreciate the light? How else would we be able to attach value to the sunlight we so often take for granted?
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