Enrique Ojito Receives the National José Martí Prize Today

March 14, 2020

Every word on paper has its proper weight. A natural gift, sculpted over three decades of dedication in an act of faith that, together with his nose for assessing, opining, describing, reporting… has crowned Enrique Ojito Linares among the most distinguished professionals in the journalistic profession at the national level. And it is not only because he was awarded the national José Martí Journalism Prize for Lifetime Achievement in its 2019 edition, which he still defines as "unreachable," and much less for his more than 300 awards, both in print and radio journalism, but also for his lessons in humility, absolute refinement, perfection… And it is not only those who share the corridors of his other home, the newspaper Escambray, who recognize him; nor the audience from the hills of Santiago in Segundo Frente, where his name still echoes; nor the newscast Al día, from Radio Sancti Spíritus, which he made giant, stellar with capital letters… he overflows in his classes at the university in Spiritus; when he extends his knowledge to first-year students who arrive with so much energy from Santa Clara; even when he stumbles on the street because of the damned fault of his failing eyesight. For all those many little things, Enrique Ojito Linares is synonymous with Journalism.

A path that he chose for the good of the profession, of readers, audiences, and even internet users, for his debut as a screenwriter in Visiones, the smallest son of the Spiritus weekly newspaper. "The emotion of the news knocked me out. I see Escambray in that award," he insists with each congratulation.

And all that greatness accompanies him together with a very particular sense of humor, chaotic to the core and party-loving, the same to the rhythm of old trova yayabera songs, which he sings at the top of his lungs in the heat of a good party, or his typical dance moves even with the popular Me voy de Cimafunk, also builds his distinguished story, with roots in Bacuino, once a settlement planted in the savanna of the current municipality of La Sierpe and which, a long time ago, was swallowed by the Zaza dam.

—How did your family receive the news that you would become a journalist?

—Certainly, my father believed I would be a lawyer, not out of any imposition on his part; but because I had passed—from my impression as a student—the recruitment interview that at least in my class was conducted by professors from the Central University Marta Abreu of Las Villas at the Ernesto Che Guevara Vocational School, where I studied. Furthermore, another wind was blowing in my favor: the availability of positions was high. With my ranking, I practically had the Law degree in my pocket.

"However, by then the dream of being a journalist was already hovering in my head, and my joining an interest circle, which was attended by colleagues from the newspaper Vanguardia, from Villa Clara, proved decisive in that. But in those times it was difficult to achieve that career for two reasons: positions were not always offered and, when they were, the number was very small, as happened in my class, with two options.

"In the end, Juan Antonio Borrego, director of Escambray for more than 20 years and correspondent for Granma in Sancti Spíritus, and I pulled it off. Together we set out for the University of Oriente, in Santiago de Cuba, with a thin suitcase and the boots, in true cowboy style, that my grandfather Cachón had given me.

"In Santiago I survived on the university stipend and the 30 pesos that, religiously every month, my mother sent me through a money order; she was a cleaning assistant back then. Santiago gave us excellent professors and there I also harvested excellent friends."

—How much of the child who ran barefoot through the Sierpe savanna remains in the most-awarded journalist from Spiritus?

—The sense of curiosity remains. I remember that when I came home from school at midday, I would eat lunch, and before taking a nap, I read the same Adventures of Guille, by Dora Alonso, as White Fang, by Jack London. More than one scolding I earned because I filled the wall with words I didn't understand, whose meanings I would look up later in my father's Aristos dictionary.

"After resting, I would go to what we called study circle, and afterward I would go out running around barefoot through the red dust embankments; other times, hunting pigeons with slingshots… Many times I would go to see how the construction workers assembled, with the help of the crane, the prefabricated pieces to build the buildings. Fortunately, that curiosity to know still hasn't died in me."

—You have broken the stereotype that to be known you have to work in media in the capital of the country. How has that been possible?

—I am interested in people reading me, because, otherwise, what sense would it make for me to practice Journalism. For several years I was part of the jury for the National José Martí Journalism Prize and the Annual Juan Gualberto Gómez Journalism Prize for the year's work, as well as the then National Radio Festival. I did radio in Santiago de Cuba and I continue doing it in Sancti Spíritus.

"I have participated in several congresses of the Union of Journalists of Cuba (Upec), national written press festivals…; I have visited several provinces to attend events of diverse nature, and there is, furthermore, individual journalistic work, which can sink or save you as a reporter, available to everyone thanks to the internet. All of that influences it."

—Awards no longer fit in the folder where your resume rests. Are you a contest hunter?

—No. Awards do not obsess me; simply, I compete when I see certain value in a work. It may seem incredible, but I have enjoyed the award given to a colleague in a category in which I have participated. It is healthy to tip your hat to the quality of your opponent's work; the other would be arrogance married to pretentiousness.

—How much value do you give to investigation in journalistic practice?

—I see it as the skeleton of our professional practice. As a journalistic modality, investigative journalism is an exception and not the rule in Cuba for various reasons that are not relevant now. Investigation smooths your path toward source verification, gives credibility and completeness to the communicative product, distances you from impression journalism, and something relevant, immunizes you against possible error.

—Once you said in an interview that the press lacks "boldness and professionalism." How much does Ojito do to reverse that shortcoming?

—In the scientific production of the Faculty of Communication of the University of Havana I have found certain insights, signals about the limitations of our professional practice. You have to read and reread those investigations. I try not to repeat myself formally, which is quite difficult; I try, from time to time, to dig into a certain topic that promotes diversity of criteria, that raises eyebrows, supported, of course, in editorial intent.

—Teaching has been another tamed path, what is Ojito's little book?

—As a professor I must have a thousand and one methodological shortcomings. I usually dedicate a lot of time to the preparation of each class. Students set the bar high for you, they ask about the content of the class and beyond; of course, that is valid; but it demands that you constantly cultivate yourself. I try to make dialogue prevail in the class, and that the class be connected with the hour and minute that Cuba and the rest of the world are living.

Before saying goodbye, I joke again about the most recent good news. Once again his chronic modesty gives him away: "I still can't believe it," and I recall that when speaking for the first time about the National José Martí Prize, he called it "oxygen to continue."

I leave him at home, he's on vacation these days. Although I'm sure more than one project keeps him on edge. But I don't ask. Once he already gave me one of so many journalism lessons that I have joyfully received from him: "If you tell me about them, they will stop being a scoop, and in Journalism you must always try to say it first."