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“Fear and loathing in Mkhondo: man stabbed, four others – including IRR journalist – attacked” - Part 1- https://dailyfriend.co.za/2021/04/20/fear-and-loathing-in-mkhondo-man-stabbed-four-others-including-irr-journalist-attacked/. Below are excerpts.
Covering the murder trial in Piet Retief turned into a strange daydream shot through with hatred, incompetence, and old-fashioned gullibility.
There are two versions of how Zenzele and Mgcini Coka died on 9 April, but there was only one crowd outside the bail hearings of those the state has accused of the crime. The ANC and EFF demonstrations looked separate, but only for about ten minutes; they merged after the slogan ‘down with the farmer’ went through a few loud speakers.
The substance of the first day’s bail hearing can be summarized as follows. The prosecution alleges that there is a ‘schedule 6’ offence in play (worse than ‘schedule 5’ murder), meaning that murder was committed pursuant to a ‘conspiracy’ or ‘syndicate’ operating with ‘common purpose’. This means, in laymen’s terms, that the farmers can be thought of as having acted as a gang (a boer-gang) and that the accused should therefore only be allowed bail in extraordinary circumstances. The defence has rejected this, but the matter could not be fully heard yesterday.
Before the hearing began there was excitement outside in the form of rocks being thrown at police and journalists across a barbed wire barricade from among the crowd holding placards condemning ‘1652’ people [white South Africans]; ‘inyama’ which technically means ‘flesh’ but is a parochial term for white South Africans; ‘umlungu’ whose technical meaning is debated but means white person; and ‘amabhunu’, which again can mean all farmers or mean only white farmers, depending on context.
The other chief targets were ‘amaphoisa’, the police, and the DA. The crowd also pulled barbed wire into itself, a curious point for later reflection.
Even after the proceedings began, court testimony was punctuated by an occasional flash-bang detonation outside, though in the absence of rocks there was a period between 1pm and 2pm when (emptied) beer bottles became the preferred means of political expression, striking the tarmac with percussive hisses while music blared through amped speakers. After the court adjourned, the ‘DJ’ played a happy tune, warming up a speech that consisted of the chant ‘We are angry until further notice’ on repeat.
On leaving the court shortly after 2pm, I wanted to find the police liaison officer (other cops will not talk to journalists in public) to ascertain a key fact of the day. Police outside the courthouse directed me to Captain Masuku, the local communications chief, who ‘will be here in five minutes’. Half an hour later he had not arrived, and I was told to look for someone with three stars on his shoulder, a captain, in the course of which I passed the now diminished crowd of protesters, some of whom called me ‘umlungu’, ‘Verwoerd’, and ‘vokken van Riebeek’.
Captain Gwebu told me to go and find Captain Masuku at a Total garage three blocks down the road. I arrived at the garage and saw no police. Instead there were protesters, many in ANC- and EFF-branded attire, one of whom, in a plain green shirt, shouted ‘Umlungu’ at me repeatedly while staring me down. As I turned the car around, he kicked a tire and shouted ‘Umlungu, vok off’.
Another young man ran from the front, hurling a rock at me full tilt, and the last thing I heard before the smash was ‘Umlungu ngizokubulala’ [white person, I will kill you]. I heard another thud on the roof.
Captain Gwebu was not impressed into action, nor were any of his colleagues. I was, however, told that a new, higher-ranking liaison officer had arrived from out of town. So, finally, I interviewed Colonel Mdhluli, asking the simple question about whether the police violated a court order that day, on which you will receive a later report, but not before giving eNCA the chance to finish their interview with the colonel.