In this conversation, Preethi Nallu, Director at Report for the World, speaks with Saska Cvetkovska, Publisher of the Investigative Reporting Lab (IRL) and member of the Organized Crime and Corruption Reporting Project (OCCRP).
In this conversation for the International Press Institute (IPI) at the Media Innovation Festival in Vienna they discuss the origins of IRL, their audience-driven approach to rebuilding trust in North Macedonia’s polarized media landscape, and how they’re experimenting with formats—from mobile newsrooms to fiction films—to reach younger audiences and build a sustainable model for public-interest journalism.
This conversation has been edited for clarity.
You can watch the entire discussion here.
Preethi: You’ve said before that your newsroom has always been deeply audience-driven. How did you decide which themes and beats to focus on?
Saska: One of the first things we did—because we had no money—was accept help from anyone willing to donate their expertise. A social science research group approached us and conducted a poll across all eight administrative regions of North Macedonia. We asked people directly: What are the issues that matter to you the most?
The answers were surprisingly consistent: corruption in the justice system, environmental destruction, and irresponsible construction and urban planning. To this day, around 70 percent of our reporting focuses on these topics. That early audience research shaped our entire value proposition. We knew exactly where the gaps were, and we committed ourselves to filling them.
Preethi: Saska, let’s start with the origins of your work. How and why did IRL and the broader Spiral Media ecosystem come into existence? What gaps did you see in mainstream reporting that you felt compelled to address?
Saska Cvetkovska: IRL was founded about eight years ago with support from the Organized Crime and Corruption Reporting Project. At the time, there was a severe lack of reporting on high-level corruption and illicit financial flows. The mainstream outlets—whether traditional broadcasters or newer digital platforms—had become tools for oligarchs, wealthy criminals, and corrupt politicians. They didn’t just ignore serious corruption; they actively protected it.
A small group of us decided we needed a different space—one that wasn’t controlled by political or financial interests. We left our newsroom jobs and began working independently with just $10,000 in seed funding from OCCRP. That was all we had. I kept working as a correspondent for Agence France-Presse just to pay the bills.
Even back then, other investigative groups such as BIRN were producing strong reporting, but their impact was limited because editors and media owners weren’t open to experimentation. They resisted social media, audience analytics, and any new way of engaging people. Meanwhile, audiences were becoming increasingly dissatisfied—not just with politics, but with the media itself.
So from the start, we built IRL around experimentation, transparency, and a deep relationship with the public. We wanted to understand what citizens truly cared about, and we wanted to report with them—not just about them.
Preethi: And you’ve achieved a remarkable level of impact—real, concrete accountability. You’ve mentioned dozens of officials facing prison sentences as a result of your investigations. How does audience engagement connect to this impact?
Saska: Yes, at least 90 people have ended up in jail because of our investigations—two major investigations alone led to dozens of indictments. Some officials even joked about naming parts of the prison after IRL, which says a lot about the kind of reaction we provoke.
But the impact doesn’t come from being adversarial. It comes from being present—in small communities, in villages, and in places where national media never go. People trust us because we invest in them. And our opponents—those who benefit from corruption—are afraid of that trust. They’re afraid of the citizens who support our work.
Preethi: One of your most innovative approaches is the “mobile newsroom,” where your whole team relocates to remote communities and reports directly with residents. Where did that idea come from, and what did you learn from these deep listening tours?
Saska: The mobile newsroom came from a need to rebuild trust in a deeply polarized society. Many small towns in North Macedonia are news deserts—people rely almost entirely on Facebook for information. Local media either don’t exist or are simply correspondents for state outlets in the capital.
So a few times a year, depending on funding, we literally move our entire newsroom—journalists, producers, even admin staff—to a remote community for a week or more. We investigate local issues, hold open meetings with residents, and ask them directly: What do you want us to report on? What matters to you?
This process reshaped not only our editorial agenda but even our budget. It also pushed back against the obsession with online metrics. Talking to 10,000 people in person is far more powerful than counting likes or Google Analytics clicks. The mobile newsroom helps people recognize themselves in the national conversation—and it reminds the capital that the periphery exists.
Preethi: And yet this work is resource-intensive. How do you balance audience engagement with long-term sustainability, especially in a shrinking donor environment?
Saska: It’s extremely hard. We have a strict policy: we only engage in activities that directly support our core products. We avoid projects that drain us or distract us, even if they come with funding. We focus on three primary products, and we ask donors to work with us within those formats.
Doing less, but doing it well, is what keeps us alive. And it’s also what builds the loyal communities that form the backbone of our sustainability.
Preethi: Let’s talk about innovation in format. You’ve experimented with documentary series, cinematic storytelling, even fiction. Why go in that direction—and how does it connect to revenues?
Saska: People often misunderstand what we mean by “revenue.” In the U.S., revenue usually means subscriptions or donations. That doesn’t translate well in our context. We created Story Lab, our production unit, to access a different market altogether—the market for production money.
We now have a team of filmmakers, producers, animators, editors—all full-time employees. They create our documentary products, and they also help us turn investigative stories into films. One of our early models was inspired by BuzzFeed’s “Trump Tower” investigation. We later developed a short fiction film based on a story about families torn apart by disinformation. That film is now on the festival circuit, and we’re aiming for Sundance.
Young audiences consume information differently—visually, emotionally, through narrative. If fiction can deliver public-interest information, then why shouldn’t we use it? Our analytics show the majority of our audience is between 16 and 25. To reach them, we have to meet them where they are.
Preethi: You also collaborate with civil society organizations and creative industries. How does that partnership model work?
Saska: Civil society organizations often need high-quality multimedia work—videos, explainers, content for campaigns. Our production studio provides that. It’s not commercial advertising; it’s mission-aligned, values-aligned work. But it helps us diversify income and maintain independence.
Sustainability, for us, is about maintaining influence and reinvesting in our newsroom. Ninety-nine percent of information online is noise or propaganda. We can’t expect people to suddenly wake up with perfect media literacy. We need to deliver quality information in formats they actually consume.
Preethi: Finally, you’ve argued that journalism needs to be reimagined if we’re going to rebuild trust. What should be at the heart of this reimagining?
Saska: We must accept that journalists everywhere have failed to inform citizens properly. We now have uninformed electorates in every country. The only way forward is to dismantle the obstacles between journalists and the communities they serve.
That means showing up—physically. It means being present in rural areas, in forgotten regions, in places where people haven’t seen a journalist in years. Young audiences won’t trust us if we only speak from elite bubbles in capital cities. They want to feel connected to the people who tell their stories.
We must ask: Why do people think the way they do? What shapes their fears, their nationalism, their hopes? Who is exploiting their attention? If we want to capture that attention ethically, we have to show up for them.
Reimagining journalism means putting the audience at the center—not as consumers, but as partners in the civic project.
Preethi: And that seems to echo so many conversations happening globally—about local journalists as community conveners, about creating spaces where people feel heard.
Saska: Exactly. Whether through events, documentaries, mobile newsrooms, or digital platforms, we need to give citizens a seat at the table. Once they feel ownership over the process, trust follows. And once trust follows, democracy stands a chance.