After nine years and five hundred interviews, I will be leaving One Plus One - and the ABC - in mid September 2019.
I'd like to say that my mainstream journalism career as a reporter, foreign correspondent and presenter has been a complete privilege. One Plus One is my baby and you don't leave something you've created without a heavy heart. This was my decision alone.
I'm leaving because I need challenge. After years of learning from my interviewees, inspiring people who have created vibrant lives from the realities life deals, I too, want to be a little bit brave. I'll be working on my own projects, collaborations and will continue to leading tours with Renaissance Tours and the Art Gallery Society of NSW.
I'm happy to say that One Plus One will continue without me, initially with guest presenters. I will be curating a collection of my favourite interviews from over the years and for my final program (date TBC) - you asked for it - I will be the interviewee!
Much more to come ... xx
(Thanks to my colleague Marton Dobras for the photo)
My boss, Tim Ayliffe, Managing Editor at ABC News awarded me the ABC medallion for 25 years of service. I was so thrilled to receive this acknowledgement in front of my colleagues. I didn't think anyone in the organisation remembered!
The ABC's Chief International Correspondent Philip Williams sent this beautiful tribute:
Jane is not only a stellar foreign correspondent but she has created her own 'second life' as a fantastic interviewer. She has always determined her own path; never a follower but a leader and has delivered her work with style, wit and grace. Congratulations for 25 years of service to the ABC, but more importantly, to our 'shareholders'.
We and they are grateful!
I'm lucky, that as a journalist, I was able to have multiple 'careers' at the ABC. However my thanks goes to you, the audience (our 'shareholders') for your support and gratitude over the years. It means everything to me.
I saw this tweet from my colleague Kumi and like many of you, I connected with the sentiment she expressed.
A few years I was doing a Q&A with Rosie Batty at a conference. One of the things that stuck with me was something along the lines of how she had always feared losing her only son, Luke. And then the unimaginable happened; Luke was killed by his father.
The Kelly family, like Rosie has been through the unimaginable.
Hearing about the attack on Thomas Kelly in July 2012 felt sickening.
That his younger brother Stuart would take his own life in 2016 was another incredibly cruel low for the Kelly family. How could such loss strike twice?
At the time I hadn’t followed the events between Thomas’ death and Stuart’s suicide too closely, but I know about these events intimately now, having read Too Late Too Soon, Kathy and Ralph Kelly’s blistering, heart-breaking book which has just been launched.
Two weeks ago I interviewed Kathy for One Plus One which airs this Friday on ABCTV.
When I heard my show had been offered the interview with Kathy, a part of me froze.
How was I supposed to face a woman who had been through the unimaginable. Twice.
First I had to deal with my own dread. What if something like that happened to my family? How would we survive? What would it be like emersing myself into Kathy’s world? How does anyone move on?
I read the book from cover to cover. The first chapter ends with Thomas’ death. It had a pace that puts you right in the scene. And it was utterly harrowing. I put the manuscript down and cried.
But as I progressed through the story, scribbling my thoughts down in the margins, the sense of dread receded. I searched for anchors. There are many experiences in the nearly 500 interviews I've done and the places I've travelled to. I've had friends and family who have stories of great suffering and great restoration. As I crafted my questions, I read poetry (mainly Mary Oliver) about loss and meaning. I read up on resilience, and noted how Kathy said she and her husband Ralph dealt with grief in different ways.
I now had a pathway. I tidied the questions into a neatish road with a beginning, middle and end.
I’ll never be ready, I thought. But then I never think I am.
I’m usually thinking up questions to the last possible moment.
Before I knew it, interview day had arrived and Kathy appeared in the studio. We chatted briefly. She was cheerful and seemed to be in a good place. I liked her instantly.
Did I hit the mark with the interview?
I’m never the best judge. But now when I think of Kathy I don’t think of her as a sad person with incomprehensible loss weighing her down. She is someone with multiple dimensions. I think of her walking the dogs in the park. I think of a partnership she's held together, of nurturing her daughter Madeleine. I imagine her having dark moments as well as times of clarity and lightness and joy.
For me that feels better than the cocoon of sympathy we sometimes wrap people in.
It’s hard to describe the riot of colour that bombards you from every direction in Zanzibar, an archipelago off the coast of Tanzania. It’s a former overseas holding of Oman, which is why it was a destination in my recent tour, The Frankincense Route.
Whether it’s the crazy boys diving into the ocean, tropical trees bursting with vibrant flowers and fruit, or the school kids running in the alleyways of Stone Town, this island exudes an energy and an intoxicating sense of joy.
On my first visit to Zanzibar a year ago, I began to notice rectangular pieces of cloth that were used in different ways. On a dhow (boat) cruise, it was used as a table-cloth, but mostly it was worn by women around their heads or as a wrap skirt. I thought I’d like to wear one as a scarf.
In the Darajani textile market I discovered a selection of the light cotton cloth and also found out its name; Kanga, which means guinea-fowl, a bird with elegant, loud plumage. Kanga originated on the coast of East Africa in the mid 19th century.
The cloth has bold design and bright colours with a border around it. It’s sold as one long piece but it’s actually two identical rectangles.
I met Moses in the Kanga shop.
He was buying Kanga for his wife as a surprise. He told me Kanga are a traditional gift in East Africa; husbands give them to wives, parents to their daughters, a woman may split a pair to give half to her best friend. Babies are wrapped or carried in them, like an African Baby Bjorn.
But there’s more to it than decoration or functionality.
Our guide explained that the custom of a man being permitted to have up to four wives, often creates an atmosphere of envy or disappointment among the women. He pointed to the bottom of the cloth where there was a phrase or jina in Swahili. Each Kanga comes printed with words from well-known proverbs, popular lyrics or poetry to personal statements.
So apart from its role as a piece of clothing, the Kanga telegraphs a woman’s feelings by its brief statement aimed at a competitor, a problem wife (or wives) or the husband.
Disturbingly, in 2006, the Kanga took centre stage during the rape trial of South African President Jacob Zuma. He testified that the woman he had sex with, known as Khwezi, was wearing a kanga at the time and he interpreted her dress as an invitation to seduce. Zuma's case was dismissed and Khwezi, who was seen as a pariah for reporting her rape, fled South Africa for a time. While in the Netherlands she wrote a poem - I am Kanga - part of which I’ve reproduced here.
I am Kanga
I wrap myself around the curvaceous bodies of women all over Africa
I am the perfect nightdress on those hot African nights
The ideal attire for household chores
I secure babies happily on their mother’s backs
Am the perfect gift for new bride and new mother alike
Armed with proverbs, I am vehicle for communication between women
I exist for the comfort and convenience of a woman
I bought quite a few Kanga during my trip including a large piece (without a saying) which I'll use as a table-cloth. I didn’t buy based on the messages as I don't read Swahili, but I was hoping to collect some clever quotations.
When I got home, I asked my Tanzanian friend to translate my newly-purchased Kanga for me. Here’s a selection of my Kanga messages:
Maso Maso Mwanangu Usimuone
Stop gazing at my child (This was a wedding Kanga, so intended as a gift from a father or mother?)
Mso Hili Ana Lile
You never stop picking on me
Wewe Kwangu Zilipendwa Chuki Za Nini
To me your days have past so why continue to hate?
Kanipenda Mwenyewe Laajabu Silioni
Nothing is surprising as [he] loved me first
Nibure Zenu Chuki Na Pata Yangu Riziki
Your hate is useless as my blessings continue to flow
It turns out, I had inadvertently picked designs with jealous messages.
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When I heard my show had been offered the interview with Kathy, a part of me froze. 
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It’s hard to describe the riot of colour that bombards you from every direction in Zanzibar, an archipelago off the coast of Tanzania. It’s a former overseas holding of Oman, which is why it was a destination in my recent tour, The Frankincense Route.
In the Darajani textile market I discovered a selection of the light cotton cloth and also found out its name; Kanga, which means guinea-fowl, a bird with elegant, loud plumage. Kanga originated on the coast of East Africa in the mid 19th century.
