journalism

Two HumAngle investigations were recognised at the 2025 Excellence in Journalism Awards in West Africa, winning in the health reporting category and placing as first runner-up in sexual and gender-based violence reporting. 

The awards, organised by the Centre for Journalism Innovation and Development (CJID), drew 275 entries from across the region and were announced during the Media and Development Conference in Abuja, North Central Nigeria, on Wednesday, November 26. 

The top prize in health reporting went to “Amid Deforestation Scourge, Vanishing Herbal Plants Pose Health Crisis in Southwestern Nigeria”, an investigation by freelance journalist Abdulwaheed Sofiullahi published by HumAngle with support from the Pulitzer Centre. His reporting detailed how worsening deforestation threatens access to traditional medicine for rural Nigerians, deepening risks from malaria, typhoid, and other common illnesses.

Abdulwaheed, who covers environment and health issues for several local and international outlets, urged young reporters to keep pursuing impactful stories as he received his award. He has previously served as a Health Reporting Fellow at the Wits Centre for Journalism in Johannesburg and is a member of the Oxford Climate Society.

HumAngle also earned recognition in the sexual and gender-based violence category, where Managing Editor Hauwa Shaffii Nuhu’s investigation, “A Tragic Femicide Case in Northeastern Nigeria Smells Like Honour Killing”, emerged as first runner-up. 

The story exposed the killing of a young girl by her uncle in Bama, Borno State, revealing the entrenched gender-based violence and systemic failures faced by women and girls in Nigeria’s conflict-affected North East.

Following publication, the investigation generated national attention for its detailed reporting and sensitive narration, prompting authorities to declare the suspect wanted. He has yet to be arrested. 

Hauwa, a conflict reporter with bylines in multiple international publications, documents the human toll of terrorism and insurgency through long-form storytelling and documentary work. She has won several journalism fellowships, including the 2025 FASPE Journalism Fellowship and the 2024 Ochberg Fellowship at the Dart Centre for Journalism and Trauma. She is also a Pulitzer Centre grantee. 

HumAngle’s multiple recognitions underscore the newsroom’s commitment to covering the human cost of conflict and humanitarian crisis, to bear witness and also hold authorities to account, especially in communities frequently missing from mainstream narratives. 

The CJID awards honour impactful journalism across West Africa, with categories spanning investigations, fact-checking, public service reporting, climate journalism, environment, politics, and gender. 

The award’s panel of judges disclosed that the entries were graded for accuracy and fairness, originality and innovativeness of the reporter, depth of research, storytelling, and public impact, as well as adherence to standards of reporting. This year’s finalists included journalists from Nigeria and Ghana.

At 8 o’clock on a stormy weeknight in the chilly Chinatown offices of L.A. Taco, Memo Torres finally was worn out.

Since President Trump unleashed his deportation deluge on Los Angeles in June, the 45-year-old has chronicled nearly every immigration enforcement action in the region in three-minute “Daily Memo” videos for the online publication. He and his colleagues track down film footage and photos, reach out to officials to verify what they’ve found and hammer out a script for Torres to narrate.

The audio that played from Torres’ double-screen computer and smart phone as he reviewed the evidence on the day I visited contained snippets of the Southland’s sad soundtrack under what he continually calls the “siege” of ICE. Men pleading to la migra to stop hurting them. Activists cursing out agents. Whistles, screams, honks and sirens. Sobbing family members.

“If I wanted to cry, I don’t think that I could,” Torres said when I asked how he coped with seeing such videos ad nauseum.

“It’s not healthy, I know. It’s not mature. But what I go through is nothing like what the people I’m seeing are going through … Today was hard, though,” he continued, pounding his hand with his fist. “They went … extra hard today. They’re starting to get worse. Numbers that used to be a week’s worth of abductions are now a day.”

He sighed. His deep-set eyes were bleary. Reading glasses did nothing to help with 12 hours of staring at screens. Torres wiped his hands over his face as if washing off the horrors of the day and pressed the record button.

“Today, Border Patrol targeted Long Beach, swarming the streets again and taking gardeners, old men and a 12-pack of beer that they had,” he began. He talked over footage of masked men piling on top of a gardener at a Polly’s Pie in Long Beach as a police officer looked on with hands in pockets and a deer-in-headlights look.

In another clip, federal agents detained an elderly man sitting on the sidewalk near a liquor store, “making sure to put a handcuff on his hand as they helped him up.”

“Remember to stay safe and stay vigilant, folks,” Torres concluded.

He turned off the camera, blasted hardcore punk and began to splice his reel together.

“Daily Memo” has become the diary Los Angeles never asked for but which is now indispensable, documenting in real time one of the most terrifying chapters in the region’s history. Filling the camera frame with his broad shoulders, full beard and a baritone that alternates between wry, angry, calm and reassuring, Torres has been described by fans as the Edward R. Murrow and Walter Cronkite of L.A.’s deportation days — legendary broadcasters he acknowledges never having heard of until recently.

L.A. Taco staffer Memo Torres, right, presents Victor Villa as L.A. Taco’s Taco Madness 2024 winner in an impromptu ceremony outside the Highland Park restaurant in 2024.

(Stephanie Breijo / Los Angeles Times)

“When you’re in the midst of everything, you forget someone has to keep an archive so we can go back to reference, and you think, ‘Damn is someone is doing that?’ Yeah, Memo is doing that,” Sherman Austin said. The Long Beach-based activist runs the Stop ICE Raids Alert Network, which sends out text alerts with the locations of raids to more than half a million people nationwide. “Memo puts a human face to what’s happening, and that resonates with people in a different way.”

“He’s a neighborhood hero,” said Rebecca Brown, supervising attorney for the Immigrants’ Rights Project of Public Counsel. The public interest law firm has filed or joined multiple lawsuits against the federal government this year over its deportation agenda. “A lot of these stories of people who are getting picked up can fall through the cracks. But their voices are getting captured by his recording.”

While “Daily Memo” is chronicling a city under attack, it’s also bringing comfort to an unexpected person: Torres.

The son of a Mexican immigrant from Zacatecas who came to this country without papers, Torres never had a full-time journalism job until this year, living a “Forrest Gump kind of life.” He estimates he has worked in at least 25 different trades, from butcher to taquero to sound engineer, social media manager and nonprofit worker, none really fitting his life’s goal to do something “meaningful.”

Nothing lasted longer than landscaping. A third-generation jardinero — his grandfather also worked in the U.S. — he at one point employed 28 workers and had contracts across the city, with Hollywood studios among his biggest clients.

Torres, who has two college-age children, sold the business in March to focus on journalism for good.

“My life has prepared me for this s—. There’s nothing that scares me anymore,” Torres said as he began to layer video clips over his “Daily Memo” narration. “So I bury my head into work. My escapism is the cruel reality of the city right now.”

Torres grew up in Culver City and Inglewood. At Loyola High he absorbed the Jesuit maxim of being a man for others. But after graduating from UC Berkeley with a sociology degree, Torres found himself back in the family business, unable to find a job that satisfied him.

“Relatives would make fun of me by saying, ‘There he goes with a degree and a lawnmower in the back of a truck,” he said. “I hated it, but I was good at it.”

His landscaping routes across Southern California inadvertently prepared him for journalism. He started an Instagram account, El Tragón de Los Angeles (The Glutton from Los Angeles), to share his eating adventures. That caught the attention of L.A. Taco in 2018, which was revamping at a time when the city’s indie publications were shuttering or faltering.

“Their mission of street-level reporting called to me,” Torres said. He volunteered to connect L.A. Taco to local restaurants so the publication’s members could score free food and discounts. He soon became director of partnerships, then took over L.A. Taco’s social media accounts, then started to write articles and shoot videos — mostly for free.

“I call him the Mexican Swiss Army knife — and not those small ones but the big ones with all the weird things,” L.A. Taco publisher Alex Blazedale said as he and Torres smoked outside during a short break. “Memo could literally do anything we asked him to, and he wanted to do it and followed through.”

L.A. Taco staffer Memo Torres edits video clips from daily ICE raids which he puts together with narration on an Instagram reel inside L.A. Taco’s studio in Chinatown.

(Gina Ferazzi/Los Angeles Times)

Torres’ taco knowledge earned him appearances on the Netflix show “The Taco Chronicles” and a regular slot on KCRW’s “Good Food with Evan Kleiman.” Blazedale suggested this year that he do a daily news recap under the “Daily Memo” banner. But Torres found the title “cheesy and didn’t know what it was for.”

Then came the raids.

“I grew up on the History Channel,” Torres said. “They would always have these documentaries where they said they were finding new footage that had been thought lost. That’s what’s happening right now. So much stuff is being put up that quickly goes down. We need to document it for history.”

L.A. Taco editor Javier Cabral credits “Daily Memo” with bringing in so many new members that the publication is now financially sustainable.

“He’s not your average aspirational journalist who is either a hobbyist who wants to write more or someone who just got out of [journalism] school,” Cabral said. “He’s just a real paisa” — a working-class guy.

While Cabral finds Torres’ lack of reporting experience “refreshing,” he sometimes has to remind Torres not to editorialize too much.

“It’s that ‘Show, don’t tell’ thing in journalism, you know? But then I had to just check in with myself — am I being jealous by power-tripping at him?” Cabral said. “It was a hard conversation to have, but Memo took it [on] the chin and raised it up.”

Blazedale and Cabral believe so much in Torres that they recently hired a part-time assistant for “Daily Memo” and plan to turn an office at their headquarters into a proper studio. They got Torres a video editor, but the person quit after five minutes of viewing deportation footage — so Torres continues to put together the final product.

“We just can’t have Memo burn out,” Cabral said. “He’s too important to have that happen.”

Torres is unfazed, for now.

“It’s just like when I mowed lawns — let’s seize the day and make it your routine,” he said.

Besides, swimming in the chaos of the times is how Torres has dealt with a tough personal year. He sold his landscaping company, not just because of his increased L.A. Taco duties — he’s officially the publication’s director of engagement — but because the Hollywood writer’s strike and Trump’s deportations decimated his business. Two of his former gardeners have since been deported.

Torres started smoking again “to deal with all this.” He recently broke off an engagement after a 10-year-relationship with a woman whose family members were avid Trump supporters. On Election Night, Torres said, one of them told him to go back to Mexico. The couple’s Glendale home recently sold for far less than they paid. Soon, Torres plans to declare bankruptcy.

L.A. Taco’s offices are filled with boxes of his mementos as he settles into a new apartment. One is a laminated La Opinión story about him trying to recruit more Latino students to Berkeley after affirmative action ended.

“I always envisioned I would be useful for something,” he said before mentioning a letter from his mother he unearthed during his move. She died of cancer in 2006.

“She said, ‘I’m so proud of you. You’re trying to fight for what’s right. Don’t forget it.’ She saw it in me way back then.”

Torres uploaded his finished reel to L.A. Taco’s social media accounts. It was 10 p.m. — early for him. Outside the rain was pouring down harder than ever.

“I hope I can go back to writing about tacos,” Torres said with a laugh that betrayed he knew it wouldn’t happen for a while. “Just give me a break from reporting on the trauma and tragedy. But who knows if the future needs me? Maybe I’m just good for this moment, and I’m good with that.”

He stepped into the storm. Eight hours later, he would be back.

“Forever chemicals” don’t die — they just regroup. Only instead of regrouping in hell, as that old Marines saying goes, it’s in the oceans, where such compounds were dumped for decades.

For years, Times environmental reporter and Pulitzer finalist Rosanna Xia has been covering the legacy of forever chemical DDT, a pesticide once applied to humans as innocuously as hairspray and yardhose water. In 2020 she broke the story that barrels of DDT’s toxic waste, last sent to the ocean floor decades ago by its biggest manufacturer, Montrose, were closer to Southern California’s shores than previously thought. Her ongoing investigative work is now the subject of a documentary, “Out of Plain Sight,” which Xia co-directed with Daniel Straub. (Full disclosure: It was produced by L.A. Times Studios, an affiliate company.)

The film is a fleet, urgent-sounding dispatch, centering on Xia herself as an intrepid factfinder roving the affected coastline, dropping in on scientists, oceanographers, biologists and wildlife experts as she tries to piece together the effects of half a million barrels of forgotten DDT, banned in 1972 but still having an impact on an already fragile ecosystem and the descendants of those exposed to it. Her inspiration, quoted up top and glimpsed in archival footage, is Rachel Carson, whose seminal 1962 book, “Silent Spring,” spurred enough public outcry against chemical pesticides to lead to the creation of the Environmental Protection Agency.

Carson’s galvanizing alarm was, paradoxically, an absence, seen in declining bird populations (hence the “silent” of her title). Xia’s clarion call, meanwhile, starts with robot-captured images of leaking barrels on the ocean floor. That’s the beginning of the sea-to-land food chain that starts with DDT-ridden marine life. Microplastics are the current bete noire and rightly so, but we’re still in the dark about the causal calamity of a past era’s chemical polluting. It’s one thing if a company like Montrose, now defunct, once believed no one would notice their massive DDT-waste-dumping operation. It’s another, the movie argues, if we choose not to wrestle with the environmental ramifications being felt today.

“Out of Plain Sight” strives to be more cinematically alive than the standard talking-head-laden documentary. A brief history of DDT, from the corporate excitement over its invention to protesting, is given a snazzy split-screen archival montage treatment, sourced from educational films, newsreels and interviews but scored to the Zombies’ “I Don’t Want to Know” as a cheeky touch. And all of Xia’s interviews are filmed in the field in a vérité style, a nod to journalism in action, from UC San Diego labs and mammal rescue operations treating cancer-riven sea lions to microbiologist David Valentine’s attempts to collect samples from those time-bomb-like barrels of sludge.

Though we need movies that demystify journalism (and Xia is an appealing on-camera correspondent), that aspect is less interesting than the propulsive portrait of a dedicated, multi-pronged effort to expose, understand and hopefully clean up a still-viable threat. “Out of Plain Sight” doesn’t need to be earthshaking filmmaking to relay a valuable ongoing story about a hidden nightmare for all of us. It brings to mind another famous saying, just as applicable to DDT’s longevity as the one about the Marines, from William Faulkner: “The past is never dead — it’s not even past.”

A newly released batch of correspondence involving disgraced sex offender Jeffrey Epstein has prompted new speculation about ties between the deceased financier and United States President Donald Trump, but experts say its significance stretches beyond the White House.

The never-before-seen emails have added to pressure on the Trump administration to release files about Epstein in the US government’s possession, with a vote in Congress now expected as early as next week. Trump has rejected suggestions that he has anything to hide, and insists that while he knew Epstein, they broke ties in the early 2000s.

But the newly released emails also raise ethical questions about the role played by acclaimed author Michael Wolff as he appeared to provide advice to Epstein on how to handle his dealings with Trump.

In the exchanges published by the Democrats on the House Oversight Committee, Wolff – best known for his bestselling books on the first Trump presidency – appeared to share confidential information before a presidential debate on CNN in December 2015 with Epstein, advising him on how to exploit his connection with Trump.

“I hear CNN planning to ask Trump tonight about his relationship with you – either on air or in scrum afterwards,” Wolff wrote.

“If we were to craft an answer for him, what do you think it should be?” Epstein replied.

“I think you should let him hang himself. If he says he hasn’t been on the plane or to the house, then that gives you a valuable PR and political currency,” Wolff told Epstein.

“You can hang him in a way that potentially generates a positive benefit for you, or, if it really looks like he could win, you could save him, generating a debt. Of course, it is possible that, when asked, he’ll say Jeffrey is a great guy and has gotten a raw deal and is a victim of political correctness, which is to be outlawed in a Trump regime,” Wolff added, in his response to Epstein.

Al Jazeera reached out to Wolff for comment, but has not received a response.

In a conversation on a podcast with the news outlet The Daily Beast, Wolff said he was seeking to build a relationship with Epstein at the time to better understand Trump, but acknowledged that in “hindsight”, his comments could be seen as “embarrassing”.

Wolff, 72, is best known for his four books exposing the inner workings of the first Trump presidency, including Fire and Fury: Inside the Trump White House.

Jane Kirtley, professor of media ethics and law at the University of Minnesota, said any judgement on whether behaviour like Wolff’s with Epstein was appropriate would depend on how the writer’s role is understood.

“Some people are reporters, some are commentators, and some are book authors, and there are some differences in the way that those different people operate,” Kirtley told Al Jazeera.

“If you want to be a public relations person, or if you want to be an agent, those are perfectly valid career choices. But I think that they are unfortunately incompatible with journalism because the public has a right to assume and to believe that you are acting independently,” she continued.

“You can’t serve two masters, as the saying goes, and your interest has to either be the public interest or serving some other interests.”

Insider reporting

Experts note that reporters often face ethical and professional dilemmas while cultivating relationships with sources, especially in areas where insider information is highly sought after, such as Wolff’s research on relations between various figures in the first Trump administration.

But the prerogative to build rapport with sources, especially those with influence, can also raise difficult questions about a reporter’s proximity to the very centres of power they are supposed to be scrutinising.

Edward Wasserman, a professor of journalism at the University of California, Berkeley, said such relationships have to maintain certain boundaries and be balanced with the usefulness of the information being brought to the public’s attention.

“I think that the public has the right to be sceptical of this kind of cosy relationship with sources,” Wasserman told Al Jazeera. “But the answer the journalist has is that this is in the interest of the public, that there’s a redemptive dimension to this. It enables the kind of relationships that will allow people to confide in a reporter, who can then share that information with the public.”

Still, such relationships can also have a troubling inversion, where a journalist might be tempted to offer a source preferential treatment if they believe they might be rewarded with information.

Another journalist who corresponded with Epstein in emails released on Wednesday, a former New York Times finance reporter named Landon Thomas Jr, also appeared to have a close relationship with the convicted sex offender, whom he informed about a writer named John Connelly who was researching him.

“Keep getting calls from that guy doing a book on you – John Connolly. He seems very interested in your relationship with the news media. I told him you were a hell of a guy :)” Thomas Jr said in an email dated June 1, 2016.

“He is digging around again,” Thomas Jr said in another email to Epstein on September 27, 2017. “I think he is doing some Trump-related digging too. Anyway, for what it’s worth…” he added.

The public broadcaster NPR reported that Thomas Jr was no longer working for the Times by January 2019, and it had come to light that the reporter had asked Epstein for a $30,000 donation to a cultural centre in New York City. The New York Times has previously stated that the behaviour was a clear violation of its ethics policies and that it took action as soon as it learned of the incident.

In the case of Wolff, Wasserman also noted that his direct participation in matters relating to Trump, Epstein, and the media raised doubts about the writer’s ability to credibly report on those issues. Those questions may be especially poignant in a scandal that, for many people in the US, has become a symbol of close relationships among figures at the highest levels of power.

“The problem is that Wolff was offering advice on how to engineer, how to play this situation, in a way that’s advantageous to Epstein. And the problem that I have with that is that he then would presumably preserve the right to report on the consequences,” he said.

It also remains unclear whether Wolff’s relationship with Epstein resulted in the kind of public revelations that journalists typically point to when justifying close ties with sources.

“It occurs to me as important that in this exchange, Wolff doesn’t do anything to illuminate the core mystery, which is whether Trump was a sexual participant in what was going on with Epstein and these young women,” said Wasserman.

“And there’s nothing in this where I’m seeing Wolff even asking that,” he added.