Being a Female Journalist in Peru

Mirelis Morales Tovar is a venezuelan journalist, currently based in Peru. She covers migration, women’s rights and human rights. She spoke to CFWIJ’s Katia Mierzejewska about her experience as a freelance female reporter working on sensitive issues in Peru and how her work has changed during the pandemic. The interview is a part of of the campaign created by CFWIJ focussing on the 16 Days of Activism against Gender-Based Violence. 

Available in: 🇪🇸 Español

How does it feel to be a female journalist in Peru? Do you receive threats, encounter discrimination?

I have worked in Venezuela, Colombia and now in Peru. So I have a point of comparison.

The job market in Peru for journalists is tiny as there are two media corporations, in which most of the brands are concentrated. Unfortunately, mainstream media only seeks scandals in their pieces. They tend to be very sensationalist and irresponsible. We saw it with the coverage of Venezuelan migration. In this case, many journalists addressed the issue without digging deeper or showing different angles. They were only replicating the official discourse and promoting xenophobia.

The positive thing is that independent media, such as Ojo Público, IDL_Reporteros, Convoca and Salud con Lupa have emerged. They carry out excellent research work with significant impact. The downside is that their newsrooms are still small.

These media outlets are promoting changes in Peruvian journalism. Hopefully, that transformation extends beyond the capital because the reality in the regions is very different.

In my case, Peru allowed me to specialize in migration. I did a lot of coverage on the subject and trained to improve my narrative on mobility. I assumed it as a personal commitment, not only as a journalist but also being a migrant. It should be remembered that Peru is the second country in the region with the most Venezuelans, after Colombia, and the country that has received the largest number of refugee applications from Venezuelans in the world. It is a historic moment, and we are called to tell that part of the story.

I can tell you that, up to now, I have not suffered threats or mistreatment, but I have faced obstacles from some journalists who saw me as a threat for wanting to give a better approach to the immigration issue. They weren't precisely men, but women, sadly. On one occasion, a journalist left out a piece that I wrote about a refugee applicant, perhaps because she felt that it was taking away the prominence of her work. On another occasion, an editor, with whom we had an agreement to publish an investigation, stopped responding to emails and we were on the verge of losing five months of work. In the end, we had to offer the job to another outlet. She never backed down.

Is it a career very hard to pursue? Especially, in terms of stable employment and economic conditions.

Journalism is a contradictory profession. You suffer a lot, but at the same time, you enjoy yourself. The vital thing is to recognize is that you have to know how to live from journalism, not just survive.

I had to learn it. I came to Peru in 2015 to work as a web editor for the magazines of the El Comercio group. I was there for less than a year, and I resigned because my salary was not enough to live. They gave me many discounts and, also, they withheld more than 20% taxes for being a foreigner. One day I ran out of money to take the transport and I had to call a friend to rescue me. That day I said: What I'm doing doesn't make sense. I work more than 12 hours a day, and I can't even go to the movies. So I went back to Venezuela.

Then the crisis in Venezuela intensified. I had my son Andrés, and I decided to return to Peru, due to the facilities it was offering to regularize Venezuelan migrants. But I didn't want to go back to a medium; I took the risk of working on my own. During this time, I collaborated for El Comercio, Univision, Revista Semana. But the pandemic arrived, and everything changed. In my case, I have never stopped working, and I owe that to the fact that I have always stayed connected to journalism networks, I participate in many scholarships, and I believe in collaborative journalism.

You are a mother, an immigrant and of course, a woman, Does it influence your work? Do these experiences help you while reporting?

Before the pandemic, I managed very well to juggle my freelance career and being a mother. After the outbreak of the pandemic, everything became very complicated for me. Writing and research require time and focus. That turned out to be impossible with my son being by my side 24 hours a day. Every week I had to change the dynamics to see what worked best for me. I would put him to bed at 8 pm and start working at that time until 2 am or more until I was completely burned out. I had accepted a steady job as an editor and had to quit after a month. I couldn't work, manage to homeschool, do housework, or spend time with my baby. I cried a lot from exhaustion, but I never stopped and, paradoxically, in the most challenging stage I managed to work with the most important media in the world: BBC Mundo and NYT. And now, I'm here talking to you. I am very glad.

Could you tell me main threats and problems for women in Peru? The situation got worse because of the pandemic. In what way?

In Peru, machismo is deeply rooted. Therefore, violence against women has become a natural part of the social landscape years ago. During the pandemic, I was concerned about the rising number of women that NGOs reported missing. There were 915 missing women - including adults, girls and adolescents- from March to June. That seemed like a scandal to me, but nothing was published in the media. So I proposed writing a report on this subject, titled “Who Cares About the 915 Missing Women During the Pandemic?”. 

We made an inventory of the issues that the state had to address and that it had not complied with. Peru, for example, did not have a national system for disappeared persons, even though a law had ordered it 17 years ago. This work helped to make the problem visible, and now the government has finally activated the national system for missing persons and other pending issues. But being a woman in Peru means that you constantly feel a lack of protections, including support from the state.

In your recent article you write about precarious conditions for journalists trying to continue their work amidst the pandemic.

Three months after the pandemic, the dismissal of journalists, salary cuts and media closures became recurrent due to the drop in advertising. So we decided to do a job that showed what the situation was in the region. It was a very demoralizing job because it revealed a very bleak outlook for those of us who love this job. We were already bad, but the pandemic exacerbated it. There is a lot of job insecurity in journalism and little consideration from the owners of the media. In my case, I had to understand that the media market changed. Things will never do the way they used to. So, now more than ever, we have to work on our brand, diversify and professionalize freelance journalism if we want to live (and not only try to survive) by telling stories.