ROB KITELEY
Words That Matter. Stories That Stick.
I’m Rob — NCTJ-qualified journalist, trained in the trenches, not the think tanks. I write with edge, honesty, and a healthy mistrust of PR-speak. From feature pieces to unscripted interviews, I cover real people, real issues, and the stuff that actually matters. I’m not here for clickbait. I’m here to chase truth, ask better questions, and tell stories that stay with you long after the scroll ends. Whether it’s print, digital, or spoken word — if it needs saying, I’ll say it properly.
No fluff. No filters. Just journalism with a backbone.
BLOG: Recent Posts
When History Becomes Fantasy: How Colour-Blind Casting Broke British Period Drama
Promotional still from Channel 5’s Anne Boleyn, starring Jodie Turner-Smith. Credit: Channel 5Once upon a time, British period dramas treated history like gospel. Now it treats it like a casting call that’s sponsored by HR. William the Conqueror, Henry VIII and...
Audit This: Britain’s New Breed of Street-Level Journalism
I used to hate them. The grainy thumbnails, the smug voiceovers, the shaky footage of some bloke shoving a GoPro in a copper’s face at a police station car park It reeked of boredom dressed as rebellion. These so-called “auditors”, are citizen journalists armed with...
“Nazi Scum, Off Our Streets!” The Chant That Needs a History Lesson.
You’ve probably heard it. Bellowed at protests, plastered on placards, and roared into the faces of people who, more often than not, just look a bit too British for someone’s liking. “NAZI SCUM, OFF OUR STREETS!” Powerful? Sure. ...
This Isn’t the Britain I Remember
I left Britain with a cheeky grin, a backpack full of optimism, and a one-way ticket to anywhere-but-here. Spain welcomed me with siestas and cerveza. Mexico gave me colour, chaos, and kindness in equal measure. And somewhere between the flamenco and frijoles, I built...
Under the Duvet: How James Whale Shaped Me as a Journalist, Creator, and Man
I never met James Whale. Never shook his hand, never stood in the same room, never once exhanged words face-to-face. And yet, when I heard the news that he had passed, it hit me like I’d lost an uncle: the wild one. The one you’d never leave alone with your mum, but...
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