A dark day in the life of a journalist (Video)

I have watched people crying rivers of tears over deaths from shootings, accidents, drownings and other causes of human suffering.

I thought I was soul-hardened and immune to the effects of emotional distress.

But none of this had prepared me for the personal heartache and trauma I experienced as I watched my beloved Empangeni town fall on Monday.

It felt as if I was in a war zone as an army of invaders looted stores, robbing owners not just of their goods, but also of their livelihoods – and those of their staff.

The CBD went up in the flames of hell as the looting hordes took their toll. But this was an army like no other.

There were no battle-scarred faces, just the gleeful smiles of a senseless bunch of mostly youths who thought this was a game.

They never looked like criminals, but they were – lawbreakers of the worst kind, led by unseen puppeteers who turned normal, law abiding people into hooligans.

There were no police members present, but they would have been totally swamped anyway by the numbers bent on devastation.

Our struggling economy is already on its knees, and my tears welled up as I witnessed thugs vandalising buildings and breaking into shops without fearing any cameras, arrest or prosecution.

I watched in disbelief when I saw them power their way into an electronics shop while others had already gained forced entry into liquor outlets, helping themselves to whatever was worth stealing.

Others were looting furniture shops, dragging beds, expensive fridges, stoves, washing machines and more along the ground.

I must confess that at first I was scared to even pull out my camera to do my job. I thought the looters would deal with me harshly as there was no police protection around.

But something inside triggered me to be bold, as I felt it was imperative to inform our community of what was happening.

I discovered that the looters were unconcerned about the camera – not even hiding their faces, and even posing proudly with their ill-gotten gains.

I felt as if I was recording a film featuring professional characters who did not even need any assistance from a movie director.

They moved around like a swarm of bees, breaking into shops to loot their honey.

They were not only stealing goods, they were taking away the heart and soul of Empangeni.

They were laughing, but they and their families will cry later when there is no bread and milk, and no petrol – not to mention the rise in Covid-19 deaths among the mob who did not wear masks to protect themselves or to hide their identity.

The already high unemployment rate will rapidly increase. The smiling plunderers will cry over this day many times in the future.

Unfortunately, so too will the innocent.