By Marcus Okeny

For a journalism student in Kampala, the classroom is only the beginning. The real syllabus is the city itself: its traffic congestion on Jinja Road, its political tensions in the city centre, its economic grind and sudden violence.

One day you are sent to cover a protest, the next a land eviction in the suburbs, and the next the aftermath of a boda-boda crash on the Northern Bypass.

You arrive with a notebook and a deadline, and you leave with a story. And sometimes, with something heavier.

Unlike seasoned reporters, students are still building the emotional tools to carry what they witness. The risk is secondary trauma. It stays with you after you interview a survivor of domestic violence in Kawempe, after you sit with a family whose home in Bwaise has been submerged for the third time this year, and also after you spend an afternoon with street children in downtown Kampala trying to explain why they left home.

You are taught to be accurate, objective, and publishable, while also being a full-time student. Many are juggling a part-time job, navigating high data costs and transport fares, with little left for rest, let alone counselling. And then there is the silence around it.

In Uganda’s fiercely competitive media industry, admitting you are struggling can feel like a career risk. Our culture too still often reads emotional vulnerability as weakness, especially for young men.

Although University counselling services exist, they are underused and remembered only when many a student’s situation has escalated to a critical point. In turn, many journalism students suffer even more quietly, afraid that speaking up will affect their grades, their internship, or their chance at a byline.

Protecting your mind is not a luxury; it is part of the craft. The Kampala that needs its stories told deserves journalists who can stay long enough to tell them well.

In summary, journalism students should learn to practise self-care while still in school by recognising the early signs of burnout, setting boundaries on graphically disturbing assignments, debriefing with trusted peers and lecturers, and normalising professional help.

Resilience is not about feeling nothing. It is about learning how to carry the story without letting the story break you.

The writer, Marcus Okeny, is a final-year Media Studies student at Kampala International University.