Why Do We Keep Romanticizing the Death of Radio When it Still Works?

by Joyce Wachau Chege

We recently celebrated World Radio Day (Friday, February 13) and I could not help but make a few observations. I clearly remember when podcasts were becoming the new kid on the block and how people were quick to proclaim the death of radio. At this time, I had not started consuming podcasts. I was still a loyal listener of radio, one of the oldest traditional media we have. People have killed radio so many times whenever there is a technological shift. Most are questioning its relevance now that AI is becoming rooted in the media industry and other fields.

But I look at radio as a medium that represents resilience. I still remember back in the day how homesteads cherished having radios. It was a cherished device. It had its own dedicated stool or corner where no one was allowed to touch it without permission. A white crotched cloth that would be covering whenever it was not in use. The batteries we had to lay out in the sun before reusing them. The slaps on the radio so that the frequency could stabilize while rotating the antennae and slowly twiddling with the dials just to get the right channel.

Over the years, there was no time I thought that radio was meeting its demise. Maybe what we did was embrace the emerging trends and push it aside to a place where it was not talked about as much and people started speculating its death. But it has always been here with us. Most of the songs I know, I learnt on radio. Days when we would write songs down on paper and enjoy them with friends. There was a comfortable familiarity that came from hearing voices of presenters you had never met. The trust and credibility that was cultivated with every song, with every news segment and with every show.

People would take the radio with them to the farm, listen in the kitchen as meals were being prepared and back to the sitting room where everyone was gathered with the only source of light, a kerosene lantern that parents would narrate about how much older than you it was. It was about listening to children’s shows on weekend as the children recited bible verses, folk songs and poems. It was about the long session of death announcements that came after the news. It was about hearing a random song being played, one that you had completely forgotten about. From time to time, I plug my earphones to listen to radio on my phone. I love when I got a shout out from Maina Kageni, one of the radio presenters on Classic 105 and I ended up using it as my alarm tone. In 2019 when I got into a studio and sat behind the microphone, I loved the sense of responsibility and professionalism that came with it, the need to tell meaningful stories and make change in the society.

I love when I am commuting early in the morning or late in the evening and the bus has the radio on. Despite the different languages, the songs are all the same, a unifying factor, as callers call in with weird stories that will either leave your jaw on the floor from the shock, or laughing so hard; the late night sessions for the heartbroken people who try to seek forgiveness from their loved ones, request songs for them and so on. No internet required, no electricity dependence; a bit of static maybe, but the convenience is guaranteed, whether you have a phone or not.

Real time engagement between the presenters and the audience as they discuss issues affecting the community only shows radio is still here with us. AI is coming in strong, and as a tool, I acknowledge its importance in supporting and helping with the production process. But it can never replace the authenticity of human lived experience, the connections and trust, built brick by brick.