MY 24 HOURS OF HELL AS COPS LOOKED FOR ME

So much for the 'freedom of press', I guess here in Africa that means that you have the freedom of press as long as they appear to be on your side! The minute of course that you step out of line then there is no more freedom of press.

We've seen it happen in Zimbabwe and here we are in SA and it is starting to happen here. If I was Herbert Matimba, I would certainly, after the fact lay a charge against the police who were chasing me. Not sure how or if it would stick, but the bottom line would be that I would document, by means of a charge, that I was displeased.

'My 24 hours of hell as cops looked for me'
January 17 2007 at 08:36AM
By Herbert Matimba

I was driving into the parking lot of my block of flats when I saw people running out of the building. Curious, I parked and followed. And that was the beginning of my 24 hours of hell. There were two police vehicles. There was somebody underneath one, and when I got closer I saw it was a young woman.

'Let's get this guy. He might cause problems for us' People told me she was a prostitute.I dashed to my car to get a camera and took pictures of the woman, who was lying unconscious on the road. I heard people say "how can the police do this?"

A policewoman approached me and asked who I was. I told her and she went back to her colleagues. Shortly after, a policeman came to me and told me not to get closer to the woman, who by then looked dead. A little later, another policeman came and told me to next time ask permission before taking pictures. I was moving away from the scene when I heard the policeman who first approached me say: "Let's get this guy. He might cause problems for us." Somebody in the crowd told me to run as they were coming after me. I ran and found cover in a garage from where I was able to see what was going on. The police were running up and down as if searching for me. They seemed keen on finding me. I realised that if they found me they would take my camera and perhaps destroy the pictures I took.

After an hour or so it became quiet. The police seemed to have left. I decided to see if I could get into my flat. But when I got there the same police were standing there. I decided not to go in. I found a woman and asked for a jacket to disguise myself. I told her what had happened. She said we must make sure we keep the pictures. I spent the night at her cousin's place.

This article was originally published on page 1 of Pretoria News on January 17, 2007