Most of the time we make do with sleeping on rugs, tables and rows of chairs. Practicing journalism the guerrilla way means wearing ragamuffin or casual dress and carrying a small backpack containing essentials just in case the need arises to run for cover in the course of duty or one receives an invitation for a chat with the security agents, from which one is never sure of returning. Social life is restricted and circle of friends very tight. Constant alertness is the rule. Also, as part of guerrilla journalism, the production schedule has been reduced from the normal six days to three, with most of the editing work done in a mobile way-moving from one hideout to another and dropping off materials at different points.
Production is largely clandestine.
This strategy, though highly effective, is risky and tedious, and it raises costs. Circulation presents the toughest task. Several times, rather than send parcels by air to our distributors, we opted for private and commercial vehicles, which usually have to travel as much as ten hours under cover of night to make deliveries to agents and vendors in the outlying areas. For about ten weeks, at one point, editors and reporters distinguished as circulation men and vendors took to the streets on foot and motorcycle because the licensed agents and vendors had been harassed and warned not to sell our magazines. Four months ago I took a respite from this struggle.