Calm Western Front & Blackberry Challenges

All calm here today, I'm grateful. I've wondered around the courts, it seems they might have decided to have the various protest-related court cases next week, with the intention of keeping the situation calm.

Yesterday my new Blackberry Bold, not even a week old, was put to the test on the journalistic 'battlefield'. I chose this handset specifically as a work tool, over the iphone (not an easy decision). Where Blackberry has failed me is in terms of battery life. It's a brand new phone and its battery only lasts a day on average...probably because of all the applications running simultaneously. It means I'm going to have to purchase a spare battery, also a car charger, and to keep the spare battery charged, particularly for days like yesterday, where I've no access to electricity but need to remain constantly in communication with radio stations, other journalists, and sources 'on the ground' who are feeding me info via sms. And obviously so that I can constantly keep on blogging.

More, later, about the many, many pros of the Blackberry as a journalistic tool.

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

Mpumalanga Unrest: Shoeless in Siyathuthuka

This was the pile of shoes that was left behind after alleged service delivery protesters in Siyathuthuka township (outside Belfast) were dispersed this afternoon by police firing rubber bullets.

I've just received a message from a friend in Siyathuthuka; she says that protesters are allegedly planning to burn down the clinic tomorrow, also the homes of friends and family of councillors of the Emakhazeni Local Council.

Mpumalanga Unrest: Siyathuthuka township, Belfast (some more photos)

Mpumalanga Unrest: Library books saved from flames

Despite the Siyathuthuka municipal building still burning after being set alight this morning, librarians and fire department personnel are - right now - carrying out mostly unscathed library books; they have already filled two 'bakkie' loads with books.

While this is happening in Zakheni Street, a police helicopter is overhead and police armoured vehicles bristling with shotguns are up and down the streets; this is reminiscent of the state of emergency in 1985 when I was growing up.

There are also police, some in plain clothes, behind walls and in-between buildings taking pot shots at protesters as they raise their heads; most of these protesters seem to be on the run and retreating into the depths of the township.

A podgy white police inspector with a shotgun over his shoulder and what looks like a 'knopkierie' hanging on his belt turns around suddenly, as I click my camera at him. "Don't you dare publish those photos," he roars at me pointing his finger into my face. "Don't threaten me," I yell back with more resentment than he anticipated. Like all bullies he imediately backs down and talks nicely to me. "Those days where middle aged white men with inferiority complexes talked down to me are long over," I think to myself with glee. Respect is earned, not demanded.

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device