Starting a new job during the insurrection

Last week after a two-year break from mainstream reporting and trying out different roles, I returned to the ground, reporting for the Citizen Newspaper. My new role as a rewriter pulls together all the developments on news of the day into concise fresh angles that would remain relevant the next morning.?

Last Monday, amid the third wave of Coronavirus and a looming insurrection, I made my way to the office. Tensions in my home province, KwaZulu-Natal was brewing and threatening to spill over into Gauteng.?

My mum forwarded me a Whatsapp voice note that was making the rounds in Durban the night before. It warned people to stay at home because there would be attacks on retailers on Monday morning. The message didn't provide details about why the insurgence was coming. Just that it was, and if we are not part of the criminal activity, we are against them. 'Can't you work from home?' was the next message that followed from mum.?

I couldn't, nor would I. Riots and protests shaped the early days of my reporting career. I am more likely to stop my vehicle and take a video for the newsroom than flee. It's just how I am wired. I only took a step back from the field after my daughter was born, and I've since learned that it's harder to get a foot back in the door as a parent, regardless of your pedigree or experience.

Two weeks prior, I had tested positive for Covid and thankfully only had milder symptoms of the deadly disease. I accepted an offer to interview a day after my diagnosis.

I coughed and wheezed heavily during the process, often running out of breath. My sore throat was aggravated by the talking, causing coughing fits. HR and my soon-to-be boss were patient and didn't keep me on the hook for too long. The hiring process was like lightning, and my start date was scheduled for after the isolation period.

I was excited. It felt a bit like destiny, guiding me back to my roots in print in a long-established newsroom with old school news values. I had to provide proof of a negative covid result before heading to the office.?

Thanks to a third wave, testing stations were backed up, and I had to drive 30-minutes out of my way into Norwood for testing and chance driving into riots on my way to the office for my first day.

The threat of more violence was imminent and had been escalating since former President Jacob Zuma handed himself over to authorities on Wednesday, 7 July. My family, who were happy that I was starting a new job, were also terrified that I could get caught in protests on my way.

We would soon learn that fears and worries for my safety were misplaced. My parents, our family-run business and livelihoods, are situated in Phoenix, one of the worst-hit areas. Their's and other communities were in the thick of it, and now they're on tenterhooks for more attacks, this time fuelled by long-existing racial tensions between the black and Indian communities.?

KZN has been under siege since Monday. My parents catering supplies business shut down operations from Monday. Frail care centres and hospitals dependent on them for food supplies had been without essentials since the attacks began. We were also anxious about the future if our business was among those looted. Thankfully, private security companies in the area where they operated banded together and provided heavily armed guards to all businesses operating on that road.?

On Tuesday, under a private security armed guard response, my parents were escorted to their business premises to remove computers and essential food supplies because frail care centres and other badly hit communities had begun scrambling for goods.?

By Friday, my parents decided to reopen and work to get supplies across Durban. There is a severe shortage of milk. The wholesale supplier who usually provides two palettes at a time could only spare a single six-pack.

My parents are nervous about resuming operations amid reports of a looming phase two of attacks, including hits on vital infrastructure. To top it all, the State Security Department backtracked over the weekend and said the attacks on Durban was not an insurrection, which contradicts what the President told the nation.

Small to medium businesses trying to rebuild will need to have backup and evacuation plans detailing SOP's if there is a repeat of this situation.?

My first week back in mainstream news was pumped with adrenaline and the rush of breaking news. But I was also anguished over my hometown and country burning.?

Most nights, I was glued to Zello, a walkie-talkie app used by community patrol groups to hear incidents unfolding across the province in real-time. The influx of information was incredibly overwhelming. It was a never-ending live feed of distress calls across the province, terrified accounts of approaching mobs and begging for back-up, false alarms and requests for ammunition, tasers, barb wire and cable ties meshed together coming in from dozens of patrol groups at once.

According to telecommunication coming from the ground, fears that political vendettas were at the heart of this insurrection is evident. Some patrollers and front line responders didn't want to hand over control of their security to potentially politically aligned security forces.

"The army is nowhere to be seen. Guys the police are just standing there, they not doing anything to stop rioters, man your borders, do not hand over control."

Sources and informants on the ground have shared distressing reports of opportunistic racial profiling at residential area borders and described vigilante-like retaliation tactics in response to the looting frenzy. One that stood out for me was the citizens 'loot-the-looter' strategy, where they confiscated stolen goods from the thieves and redistributed them to affected residents who had nowhere to shop or couldn't leave their homes because of the unrest. In areas where police were present, they were hopelessly outnumbered 100:5.

The marauding also brought another criminal element out in full force. Heavily armed gangs and drug lords stepped out of the shadows of Durban's criminal underbelly to join community responders.

A patroller on the front lines in Verulam said he never knew there were so many guns in Durban.

Rifles, R5's and shot guns

I asked if he feels safe. He responded not yet, but ironically said he felt a bit easier knowing that the drug lords and gangs were 'not taking chances.' My source also pointed out that this is why communities don't want to flip on crime lords and testify against them in court. In precarious political uncertainty, when police were outnumbered - it was the deft response by mafia-linked individuals and gangs that ultimately protected the communities from the wrath of rioters who began attacking residents in their homes under cover of darkness. "That's how they (drug lords) build loyalty," he said.

But despite fears of an incompetent and under-resourced police force, most if not all groups have reduced community patrol efforts, putting their communities safety back in the hands of security forces. They now wait with bated breath for army deployment as many of them feel the violent attacks needed a tougher response than public order policing, akin to what gangsters met out to looters.

The focus of community patrols has since shifted to providing food supplies and aid to those who need it the most. Businesses have also begun counting the losses and putting down plans to rebuild.

On Friday, when I visited Mayibuye township in Tembisa, where arsonists set fire to the Cambridge Foods and Liquor Hyper stores, residents were heartbroken to see the demise of their preferred retailer. Cambridge is close to home, and its affordability has earned them a loyal customer base. "My heart is sore because now we are going to starve," said a 45-year-old unemployed housekeeper.

An ANC ward councillor also expressed fears that Cambridge would close down for good after this or would stop the humanitarian aid they usually provide when called upon. "If the children's soccer club or other community-based organisation needs sponsorship, uniforms or food hampers, they've always provided what we need," she said.

A whole impoverished township no longer has easy access to grocery stores. Many of them will have to travel by taxi to more expensive grocery stores in neighbouring areas. Transport costs plus pricey goods are not feasible, making them dependent on relief organisations to come into the area and donate basic food and essentials.

I am also mindful that I have written this personal account of last weeks pandemonium and my first week at a new job on Mandela Day. A day that over the years became one of goodwill in honour of an icon. This year people spent Mandela Day doing clean-up and riot relief efforts. These acts are proof that his spirit lives on in a nation that once held so much promise. Today, we have been reduced to pawns in a never-ending game of Jumanji created by power-hungry ANC factions who have proven that they will burn this country down, even if it means ruling over ashes.