Adrenalin pushes reporter to capture dramatic scenes.
IT ONLY dawned on me two hours after the shootout at the Mthatha High Court yesterday that I could have been caught in the crossfire.
I had been to court to cover a case. However, I would have found myself in the middle of the drama had I not stopped at Transkei Primary School when I saw police service horses ride in.
I tailed the officer and screamed I was from the Daily Dispatch when he finally noticed someone was following him.
Shots were being fired sporadically and I took cover behind the Department of Correctional Services (DCS) officer. I continued taking photographs as I tried to figure out what was going on.
The most scary part was not knowing where the police shooters were and their numbers.
When I got a glimpse of the court grounds, I saw Sakhumzi Mvoko already dead.
At that time Yandisa Bila, whose eyes looked like they were bulging out of their sockets, was kneeling at the court’s main door.
A DCS officer stood at the right end of the court building and three Tactical Response Team members and a number of DCS officers to the left.
The adrenaline of the moment kept me going.
I could have been in the crossfire because I would have walked into that courtyard seconds before the shooting started.
As has become custom since mid last year when I first saw members of the Mvoko gang, journalists always took pictures of them.
This was motivated by the casual nature in which these convicts carried themselves – laughing and joking even with the DCS officers.
The heavy security around them, and the “hangers on” who idolised and exchanged greetings with them, added to the excitement.
Just two days before their deaths, I sat a few steps away from Bila and Mvoko inside one of the courtrooms. I joked with Bila that I was starving and asked him for a piece of Nando’s chicken meal he was eating.
Mvoko, who always kept a smile and wore glasses, greeted me with a wink. When Bila stretched out his hand, I politely declined and reminded him that it was against the rules to eat inside a courtroom.
Little did I know it would be the last time I would see the two alive. — loyisom@dispatch.co.za
'I could have been in the crossfire...'
IT ONLY dawned on me two hours after the shootout at the Mthatha High Court yesterday that I could have been caught in the crossfire.
I had been to court to cover a case. However, I would have found myself in the middle of the drama had I not stopped at Transkei Primary School when I saw police service horses ride in.
I tailed the officer and screamed I was from the Daily Dispatch when he finally noticed someone was following him.
Shots were being fired sporadically and I took cover behind the Department of Correctional Services (DCS) officer. I continued taking photographs as I tried to figure out what was going on.
The most scary part was not knowing where the police shooters were and their numbers.
When I got a glimpse of the court grounds, I saw Sakhumzi Mvoko already dead.
At that time Yandisa Bila, whose eyes looked like they were bulging out of their sockets, was kneeling at the court’s main door.
A DCS officer stood at the right end of the court building and three Tactical Response Team members and a number of DCS officers to the left.
The adrenaline of the moment kept me going.
I could have been in the crossfire because I would have walked into that courtyard seconds before the shooting started.
As has become custom since mid last year when I first saw members of the Mvoko gang, journalists always took pictures of them.
This was motivated by the casual nature in which these convicts carried themselves – laughing and joking even with the DCS officers.
The heavy security around them, and the “hangers on” who idolised and exchanged greetings with them, added to the excitement.
Just two days before their deaths, I sat a few steps away from Bila and Mvoko inside one of the courtrooms. I joked with Bila that I was starving and asked him for a piece of Nando’s chicken meal he was eating.
Mvoko, who always kept a smile and wore glasses, greeted me with a wink. When Bila stretched out his hand, I politely declined and reminded him that it was against the rules to eat inside a courtroom.
Little did I know it would be the last time I would see the two alive. — loyisom@dispatch.co.za
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