A day in the newsroom

Meet the people who put the paper in your hand

It’s 4:30pm, and not a teaspoon is stirring. The search begins for our office boy-cum-part time prayer leader, Hafiz Waheed.

The search can be long, but today it is short. As is often the case, a few of the reporters have invited him to have a late lunch with them. He offers to quickly whip up a round of tea, but everyone chooses to self serve and let him eat. Minutes after the editorial team finish their round of self-serve tea, Hafi z pops in with a fresh batch. Caffeine addictions satisfied.

The day goes on. Stories and reports come in. Around six o’clock, our in-house sports fan, page designer Emran Abbas strolls in. He scopes the room. If the subeditors are hard at work, he quietly turns on his workstation and starts prepping for his shift. If they are idle, still waiting for stories to be  led, he will pique their interest with a chat on the days major sporting events. Mostly cricket, but the occasional top-tier European football conversation can also take place.

Soon after, page designer Sami Siddiqui and our senior page designer Muhammad Nadeem walks in. After five years, at The Express Tribune, they all know the drill. “I have the crime page, just keep sending me stuff”, one will say --- page 18 having the earliest deadline.

Rana Tanveer, our production operator, walks in as ‘discussions’ begin on why the page hasn’t been sent yet.

“Two giants have gone through it,” says the city editor, a reference to his senior subs. “But the horoscope fi les are still transferring,” says Sami, as Nadeem quips, “How will people know if tomorrow is a good day or not without it?”. “Probably by living it,” says a less astrology-inclined subeditor.

The final advertisement layout is in, and focus shifts to the inside pages, 14 and 15. “Send the page for approval,” says the page in-charge for 14. “No pictures?” says Sami. “Oops”, says the subeditor.

A rapid search for appropriate in-story pictures or a standalone begins. Fortunately, they had already been prepped by another sub. The picture is placed, the page get’s the editor’s OK, and Sami gets to chill for a while.

Emran goes through a similar drill, but panic strikes as a story marked for 15 turns out to be stronger than its ‘slug’ suggested.

“Just replace it with a seminar”, says a senior staffer in a calm, yet sarcastic tone. “No need to panic.”

With 15 ready to send to press, focus shifts entirely to page 13, the city section front page. “Someone missed a typo,” Nadeem points out to the page in-charge, a silent reminder of his own editing skills, acquired thanks to years of experience that can only be matched by the city editor.

“Where’s my lead story,” Nadeem asks, noting that the layout is dependent on it. “On its way,” says the page in-charge, looking across at the senior sub handling the story. “This isn’t just a couple of stitches, the patient needs surgery,” says the senior sub. “It’ll be ready when it’s ready.”

Hafiz suddenly ducks in with our last round of tea, taking time to absorb the layouts of the inside pages. Or maybe he’s just doing a reporter a favour and giving advance notice on a story display. It’s one of many mysteries of the newsroom. Caffeine buzz back, the lead is quickly finalised, but with a caveat – it’s not local.