The tale of the waste picker, camera and torn T-shirt
A journalist do not always have it easy when it comes to fighting for justice to be served.
So I now too can say “been there, done that, got the T-shirt”.
As a community journalist life definitely is not always as glamorous as it might seem on television. In fact, it is the total opposite.
Yes, there are times where I’m wined and dined, but those are on very, very rare occasions.
Nonetheless, the rest of the time my work ultimately revolves around helping my fellow man, the people reading this newspaper and my articles.
Recently I met a man called Simon.
“I am a waste picker and we are facing lots of problems at the Luipaardsvlei Landfill Site,” he softly tells me during our first meeting at our offices in Witpoortjie.
From our conversation I picked up that he and other waste pickers are working in terrible conditions just to be able to put food to their tables.
To better understand the situation I agreed to meet with him at the landfill site a few days later, but this is where my effort to help a community member took a bad turn.
“There are the culprits I told you about. Snap them!” Simon excitedly shouts. I did as he said as I did not want to miss such an opportunity. “Investigative journalist in the making,” I proudly thought to myself.
A security guard saw me taking pictures outside the property and swiftly started to shout at me, after which he disappeared into their office at the landfill site’s entrance.
I decided to take the chance. I entered and asked to speak with the manager or any person in charge to explain the reason for my visit.
“What are you doing here? You are not allowed to take pictures,” the manager told me.
Trying to defend my visit, I said can’t make special appointments. An argument ensued and I threatened I indeed will take pictures.
About five or so security guards surrounded me and grabbed at my camera.
During the scuffle I managed to open the memory card compartment and heard the manager shouting, “He’s taking the memory card! Get the memory card!”
Angry and upset I quickly left the property, shouting back that I will be contacting the police as my camera has just been stolen.
I realised my shirt also was torn and I arrogantly thought, “Nice evidence. I’ve got the T-shirt now.”
Back in the car, which was parked a few metres from the landfill site I phoned the Kagiso Police, my editor Janine Viljoen and the Flying Squad.
Unknowingly my editor and colleague Marizka Coetzer also contacted the Sector 9 Community Policing Forum.
Phone calls to Nkosana Zali, municipal spokesperson were fruitless. He responded only after my editor mentioned him in a Tweet on the microblogging site Twitter.
Within minutes the landfill site entrance looked like a crime scene – probably the first time in history a minor incident got so much attention. Luckily I had an opportunity to explain to the police and everyone who wanted to listen what had happened.
Very reluctantly the manager returned my camera. Police informed me that I in fact can open a case of theft.
But this is not what I am here for. I am here to help those who feel they can’t express their woes elsewhere. Therefore no case was opened.
• Look out for the article about the waste pickers.
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• Soek liewer die wortel van die kwaad
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