The journalist pioneering a new approach to journalism training in Ghana

When donor-funded journalism training began to dry up in Ghana, Emmanuel K. Dogbevi did not stop training journalists. He changed the model.

Dogbevi, investigative journalist and founding managing editor of Ghana Business News, has spent over 35 years reporting on issues from corruption to environmental destruction, earning a reputation for accountability journalism that drives real-world change. His 2020 investigation into Ghana’s illegal rosewood trade exposed weak enforcement and political complicity in the destruction of northern forests, helping trigger international scrutiny and a subsequent ban on rosewood exports from the country. 

He has also contributed to major cross-border investigations, including West Africa Leaks, the largest-ever collaboration of journalists from the region, led by the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists (ICIJ). Working alongside reporters from 11 countries, Dogbevi helped analyse millions of leaked records from landmark investigations such as the Offshore Leaks, Swiss Leaks, Panama Papers and Paradise Papers, bringing the opaque world of offshore finance into public view in West Africa.

Even as his reporting garnered global attention, Dogbevi was witnessing a quieter crisis unfold within Ghanaian newsrooms.

For years, he had run formal, grant-backed journalism workshops through his nonprofit, NewsBridge Africa. By 2018, however, funding had become increasingly unreliable. Proposals went unanswered. Promised support failed to materialise. Meanwhile, newsrooms were filling with young reporters who had little mentoring, weak editorial guidance and few opportunities for continuous development.

His response was deliberately modest. In 2019, Dogbevi launched The Journalism Hangout, an informal training model that meets journalists where they already gather – in cafés, bars, restaurants and other public spaces. There are no conference halls, no PowerPoint presentations and no per diems. Participants purchase their own drinks, pull out notebooks, and spend hours working through real-world reporting challenges in accuracy, ethics, verification, collaboration, and storytelling, all guided by a practitioner still active in the field.

At a moment when donor support for media development is shrinking across much of Africa, The Journalism Hangout offers a different proposition: journalism training sustained without grants, led by working journalists, and rooted in community.

In this Q&A, Dogbevi explains why he believes conventional journalism training is failing, how his model works in practice, and what community-led initiatives can offer to a profession under growing financial and political pressure. Our conversation has been lightly edited for clarity and length.

Q. How did that first hangout unfold?

A. I posted on Facebook and Twitter that I am having a journalism hangout in my office, come sit over drinks and let’s talk about journalism. Four journalists showed up: two sports reporters, an investigative journalist who later became a fact-checker, and someone fresh from journalism school.

As we were chatting casually about journalism, I noticed all of them pulled out notepads and started taking notes. That told me I was saying something useful they believed they’d need.

After announcing a second session, five people came. By the third, the numbers grew. A friend suggested expanding to include communications and PR students, so we moved across the street to a restaurant with more space. We had an author join us, a teacher, people from other professions interested in journalism, including recent graduates wanting to understand how I transfer skills.

Then journalists outside [Ghana's capital] Accra started calling, asking me when I was going to visit their city and do a hangout there.

Q. How did you manage to expand geographically without funding?

A. I didn’t have the money to travel outside Accra. Then someone messaged me on Facebook, “I can see you are travelling to Kumasi for the journalism hangout, do you need a ticket?” I said yes, but couldn’t afford it. They said, “Don’t worry, I will get you one.” Someone else donated money because they weren’t happy with the quality of journalism and believed I could make an impact.

Sometimes I’d combine trips. For instance, one time I was attending a friend’s wedding in a different city, so I announced a hangout. Journalists who’d been waiting for years showed up excited.

The most intense trip was to three cities in one week, in the Upper East, Northeast, and Northern regions of the country. I travelled Monday, did a hangout in one city, slept overnight, drove to another for an evening session, drove straight to the last one, slept, did another hangout, then returned to Accra.

I have also reached out to friends on Facebook, some I don’t even know personally, and said, “Look, I am going to do this hangout in these areas, and I will be grateful for your help.” People sent money. I was able to buy my ticket and pay for my hotel accommodation.

Q. What makes this model genuinely innovative compared to standard journalism workshops or university courses?

A. We don’t do any PowerPoint presentations. We meet in social places rather than conference rooms, and we give no handouts. It’s purely conversational and interactive.

We sit like we’re having this phone conversation. Somebody has a question, they interrupt and ask. Someone has an experience triggered by what I said, they raise their hand and share. People ask me personal questions.

I tell them practical experiences, not textbook theory. If I talk about how I did a story, I am sharing real methodology, real challenges, and real solutions. It’s not just telling people how to do journalism, it’s showing them, because journalism is practical.

The conversational format creates intimacy and trust. They’re not sitting in rows facing a podium. We’re peers talking about our craft. All of them pull out notepads and take notes.

Q. Walk us through a typical hangout. How does it actually work?

A. I decide on a venue and date, then reach out to journalists to mobilise their colleagues. We find a quiet restaurant or drinking spot with no rental fees. Everybody buys their own drink. Sometimes, one journalist volunteers to provide bottles of water. That’s it.

We discuss investigative journalism skills, how to pitch stories, ethics, accuracy – everything about journalism. Sometimes we analyse specific stories as case studies, looking at how that story could have been done differently, and if it missed something crucial.

For me, the cost is transport and accommodation when travelling outside Accra. A return air ticket runs about $300. For the trip to the three northern regions, I hired a four-by-four for about $700. Three hotel nights cost around $200. Food for four days, maybe $100.

Q. That’s a significant personal investment. How do you sustain this?

A. My passion is to see good journalism. I am making the sacrifice to make it happen. If I were to wait for someone to pay for the cost of doing this, it may never be done, and there is no time. I chose to make that sacrifice. My website does not generate revenue. We don’t have sponsors, we don’t have funding. So I pay to run my website with my lunch money.

I do some freelancing. Sometimes people hire me to do training for other journalists, and they pay for it. There are times I get invited to international conferences, and I am paid per diem, and I save that and put it back into it.

It’s very sacrificial for me, and the value I get back is the satisfaction I see in the faces of these journalists who otherwise wouldn’t have had the opportunity to learn from somebody who has been doing quality journalism. The inspiration, the motivation I give them when they listen to me, and how some of them get fired up and say, “After listening to you, I can see that I am not doing good journalism. From now onwards, I am going to try better.” These are the things that drive me.

Q. You mentioned seeing problems with other training programs. What were those issues?

A. Many organisations have money, networks, connections, but they don’t understand journalism training. I have sat through many training workshops in my career and come back disappointed because they didn’t transfer any skills to me. I have seen journalists attend these donor-funded sessions, return to their newsrooms, and they’re not any better.

There are too many people with no practical journalism experience training other journalists. You don’t tell people how to do journalism – you show them. We need people with real experience, whose work demonstrates quality over the years with well-structured information, good storytelling, balance, accuracy, objectivity, and impact.

It surprises people that no journalism school in Ghana has asked me to teach, despite my track record. Meanwhile, top journalism schools elsewhere – particularly in the US – don’t only hire PhDs. They’ve created positions like “professor of professional practice” for people who’ve practised journalism for many years, but back at home, you must have a PhD to teach journalism students.

Q. What measurable impact have you seen since launching in 2019?

A. The aim isn’t story-specific, but it’s about improving overall performance in individual roles and newsrooms. There was one spectacular piece of feedback from a journalist in one city. During that hangout, I talked about collaboration, how journalists shouldn’t compete but collaborate, especially with dwindling resources and challenges like misinformation and deepfakes. This journalist, for the first time in his life, collaborated with another radio station in another city on a corruption story. 

Others are learning for the first time that journalism isn’t one-sided – you don’t just report a politician’s speech, you scrutinise it and ensure they’re speaking the truth. People are learning that journalism should focus on facts, not hearsay. 

I’m updating journalists’ knowledge and perspective on how journalism should be done. During hangouts, I realise many lack understanding of even basic journalism principles. Some were picked out of school and dumped in newsrooms with no orientation, training, guidance, or editorial leadership. They work on impulse.

The hangout helps put things in perspective. I advise them to seek grants, apply for fellowships, and attend training opportunities. Some are making that effort. It's paying off in overall journalistic attitudes.

They read my work, get familiar with it, then listen to me speak. That encourages them: “At least he knows what he's talking about, because he's showing this in his own work.” That is motivating enough to make them desire to do good quality journalism.

There is no doubt that most of these journalists are learning that quality journalism is necessary if you want to make an impact. The success might not be immediate, but the perspectives and knowledge they’re gaining will reflect in their work.

Q. What lessons could journalists in other African countries learn from this model?

A. The model is easily adaptable. Anyone can do it. It’s cheap and easy. You can invite friends and say, “Today we're not talking about football, we’re talking about journalism.” People share experiences and skills learned elsewhere. We learn from each other, from the best possible examples.

If people share best practices, we adopt them, try them, and keep what works. Overall, we can improve the quality of journalism in our countries.

In fact, a friend in Tanzania called asking how I do this because he wants to replicate it. Other people are figuring out if they could do it in their own country. I will try to see if I can run some hangouts on my trips to other countries, and probably introduce other journalists to them and see if they can run them there.

Q. What role can community-led initiatives like yours play in strengthening press freedom and ethics?

A. It raises awareness that journalism can only thrive when there is press freedom. The hangout also helps journalists network. Some come to meet for the first time, even though they live in the same city. They form alliances, build connections. I encourage them to share information and help each other with stories. They’re building relationships which serve as a layer of defence. It’s always good to have another journalist who will watch your back.

We support each other, motivate each other. It reinforces the new knowledge they learn because they’re all learning from the same, convincing source, who's also doing this work. If I talk about an experience of how I did a story, I am not telling them a textbook experience. They learn from it, come together, and begin to relate to each other. It helps ensure they protect each other.

It helps them understand they can be courageous. Journalists are doing difficult stories, but they are courageous about it. So if other journalists can do it, as they are hearing from me, they can also do it.

Q. What’s next for The Journalism Hangout? Any plans to expand or evolve the model?

A. I have thought about the possibilities of people paying, but maybe not immediately. I have tried raising corporate sponsorship in the past without success. In the future, if corporations are willing to support it, we’d continue free sessions.

I have considered running special master classes where people pay, while maintaining free sessions for those who can’t afford it or live in villages far from city centres without access to quality training. I haven’t made that decision yet.

Hopefully, I will get funding to do more, more frequently, and expand across the country. I have had people tell me, “You haven’t come to my region yet.” With funding, that shouldn’t be a question.

The beauty of this model is that dwindling donor funding won’t affect it – I am not depending on donors now and probably won’t in the near future unless it happens organically. Corporate organisations might want to support and brand it. They’d get visibility because journalists generate stories from hangout discussions for their publications, radio, TV, online, and newspapers.

If friends who believe in what I do continue sponsoring me, I can do more. I will continue funding it from my own meagre resources. This is too important to wait for perfect conditions.