On Thursday morning Johannesburg suffered a massive power failure
which was a blessing in disguise. The tenant next door asked me to help him manually open his twin garage door, and doing so I noticed the refrigerator and made a cursory comment ['I'm going to court because she claims I broke her fridge']. The tenant said she had been using the fridge, that it was plugged in (and running) and filled with food and he was certain of this, because a stream of milk was flowing on the floor and he opened the fridge to ascertain where the spillage was coming from (a milk sachet).
After he pulled his car out I asked if it was okay if I shot a few pictures.
Interestingly, in photos used as evidence against me the fridge has suddenly grown shelves and the food appears fresh and quite well organised. This is quite distinctive from the fridge used a la slum in my garage where the contents were barely edible to begin with. Ands it shows just how elaborately she had planned her deceit.
What's more you can see the wire at the rear is quite perfectly preserved (the small copper contact points are all intact) - which is not very consistent with her alleging it being ripped violently off the wall.
Notice in the picture above the two new looking shelves (a different shade of white to the rest of the old fridge). Also notice the stain of milk on the garage store and proximity to the plug and the front door (the lady is slumming on the other side of this door in what used to be a sauna room. A board has been placed over the sauna hollow, and a bed placed on top of the board).
The above photo was taken on Thursday the 16th at about 7:45am.
This is a photo of the contents of the refrigerator (note no shelves) taken on 10 April. Notice the decaying lettuce and other items of very little value. (She claimed R1000 for damages).
Above you can see how perfectly preserved the copper points are.
You can also see that this garage is also used as a makeshift kitchen with a microwave positioned just outside the door on top of yet another fridge.
And you can see how much clutter, garbage and mess is in this garage.
After taking these photos my girlfriend and I drove to Norwood Police station and arrived at 07:59am. The detective arrived more than 30 minutes late, and when he arrived said I needed to be arrested and booked. Booked means fingerprinted and allocated a cell.
I reminded him that he had asked me only to meet him at the station so that we could go to court, which he had said over the phone ought to take part of the morning (he implied one or two hours). As such I hadn't even thought to call work to say I'd be late, although I had told them where I was going and might come in a bit later than usual (probably mid-morning).
He kept saying, "No problem" and that we would be busy "the whole day". I then asked him for his exact name and the numbers of the documents he now wanted me to sign. I reminded him that he was now arresting me without ever having read me my rights and having taken a statement from me, and from the slumlord's corroborating witness (a street guard whom I'd asked to watch her fridge) but not from my girlfriend. "No problem."
He refused to give his name and I then demanded to see the station commander. I told him that this was a highly irregular case, since there was no proof that I had broken the law (not even the landlady had witnessed any malicious damage taking place, in fact there were no eye witnesses other than my girlfriend, who had helped me carry the fridge out). That I had been asked to give a statement before being read my writes etc. He calmly urged me to co-operate (allow myself to be arrested). I then stood up and said, "This is bullsh-." The commissioner flew out of his seat and collided against me, screaming a torrent of abuse. 'YOU WERE GOING TO SAY BULLSHIT. WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE...etc.'
This went on for a while, and I later apologised for the word and then reiterated that I had come on the understanding that I was going to court, and the detective was insisting I be booked in a cell. The commander twice urged the officer to just take me to court.
The problem was the detective had no finished the ordinary paperwork on the docket - something he should have done first, and was cramming in now as it had to be done in order that someone be prosecuted.
I then went downstairs and out into a secure courtyard. My girlfriend was frantic at this point, and was trying to arrange a lawyer for my release. We then entered this courtyard where a few guys in orange jumpsuits and prisoners awaiting trial were loitering around.
I was then read my writes and informed that if I needed a lawyer one would be appointed. Also that I was entitled to make a phone call. Then the guy wanted all my details for the docket, and I said, "I reserve the right to remain silent, and I want to see a lawyer."
Although I asked on three or four occasions for a phone call, they said they did not have the code for the phone (the person who did was on leave) so wouldn't be able to call anyone.
Then I was stripped of everything I had; camera, watch, LIVESTRONG band, pen, notebook, money (a R10 note), and body searched for weapons or other objects of value. These were deposited in a blue zipper bag, and carefully accounted for on a piece of paper. On another piece of paper I was booked into a cell.
A guard came to me later with a small post-it and handed it to me. It was written by my girlfriend saying that I should stay calm and my friend had dispatched a lawyer and he was on his way.
I started to worry at this point, and asked the guard who was body searching me, "Will I be safe in there?"
"What do you mean?"
"From sodomy or being beaten up by other prisoners? Is there someone to observe that this won't happen?"
He seemed to find the question amusing.
It is difficult to convey the feeling when one's freedom is being taken away from you. In that moment I was well aware that my entire life could change - in the possibility of this. That I could be beaten, infected with AIDS etc. And having had simple personal items like my LIVESTRONG band removed (something I have probably not removed for months, it was an odd feeling) and my watch gave me a particularly deep sense of an intrusion, a violation of my personal rights and freedoms.
I was told I could have visitors at 3pm and that I could be held for 48 hours. The 48 hours would have ended over the weekend period (since it was a Thursday) meaning I could have been in jail for 4 days).
I went into a small square courtyard, probably 3 metres by three metres. The roof was a metal grill, actually quite pleasant as you see the sky and the sun filtered in. Inside was a 50 year old bearded fellow who said he was a murder suspect, and a younger guy, probably 21, who was dressed in a hospital sheet and had two crutches beside him (his foot was badly swollen). He was in for manslaughter (driving drunk and I believe assaulting a woman with a wheel spanner - alleged).
But I was immediately somewhat relieved because I was sharing a cell with only two other prisoners, one already injured and the other I believed I could handle if there was a confrontation.
I immediately set about making friends and finding information. They asked me what I was in for and I joked, 'Everyone in here is innocent right? I've been accused of malicious damage to property and guess what, I didn't do it.' The one guy had been here for 3 days, the other guy for less but had come directly from hospital where he had been under guard for two months. He said he had never been in jail before, and I believed him. He said he had been drunk, with friends, and they had crashed, and being injured, he had missed the trial.
After about 10 minutes the guard returned and ushered us into a very tight and cramped antechamber in the cell. The beds were here (beds being 5 sets of blankets piled on top of each other, in three separate stacks. Mine was in the middle. Both prisoners lay down - as I say, in very tight quarters. There was a toilet, but no door. The cell was dark and it was impossible to see what was going on inside. While both prisoners lay down I sat on a concrete slab jutting out from the opposite wall.
Having convinced myself that the injured prisoner was probably innocent I started talking to the suspected murderer. The murder suspect was more worrying, but he said he was asked to report to a police station and was then arrested - 'If I was guilty why would I do that?' It wasn't just that statement but the manner in which he spoke, his face and some of his other statements that made me seriously doubt he was guilty of anything worse than not shaving.
I can honestly say I think it is highly unlikely that any of us in that cell, that day, were guilty of anything.
After about an hour in the cell the guard came back, unlocked it and asked for me. Thinking the whole thing had been a scare tactic (which was now over) I said to my companions, "Cheers guys, you'll be in my thoughts."
The guard, who until then I'd taken to be a decent guy, said, "Why do you say that - you'll be back in here. You're not going anywhere."
I then went back into the courtyard where I found large white man talking on the phone. I took him to be the lawyer but it wasn't him. Still, it was a good thing our paths crossed, because he saw me and I saw him. After a few minutes a small guy in white shirt, black shoes and pants carrying what looked like a large suitcase on wheels (the sort of thing you see at airports, especially the business class lounge). The guy said, "I guess you don't recognise me without my (cycling) helmet." I realised then it was Johnny, a lawyer friend of a friend of mine and a guy who had ridden beside me to Sun City some months ago (and fractured ribs in the race the following day).
I have to say, the most disappointing and disgusting experience from this entire episode was about to unfold. Johnny told me that his priority was to get me out of there, immediately. He said we post bail and sort this all out. He suggested my girlfriend (who I later heard he had already spoken to and specifically asked "Can you draw R1000") go and draw money for bail, and spun gems like 'Life's not fair' and "It's not who you are it's who you know.' I tried to slow the guy down, saying, 'Listen, aren't you interested to know what happened? I mean, I'm sure you will have your own opinions but I'm actually innocent here. I'm not posting bail, paying R1000 for something I didn't do. The damages claim is R1000...which makes me - you haven't even asked to see the docket. Why don't you see the docket and check out how fucked up the process has been so far. I've only just been read my rights, at 9:30am today [the 16th] but I gave a statement on the 14th...' I also mentioned that the detective's own superior had instructed him to take me to court and to forget the whole booking/arresting thing. But he had insisted on it.
He - the lawyer - wasn't interested in a word of it. 'I deal with this all the time etc etc.'
He had come with a formula and he didn't want to see me, a person, with a unique set of details. He was very focused on money. He said he would need an additional R1000 to grease the chain, and pull some strings.
He then threatened me, saying he could leave but then I'd be stuck in jail with no one to help me. I told him I was actually prepared to spend the day and night in jail. I wasn't prepared to spend R1000 or R2000. I said we could sue the station and pointed out that I already had a case pending against the pigs of Parys. I imagine he simply saw this as further evidence that I was in trouble with the law or something.
The police then interrupted us, wanting me either to return to my cell or provide some sort of decision.
It was then that the lawyer said, "It seems I'm being dismissed as counsel."
Just then I noticed the detective that had arrested me walking back to the locked grate at the opposite end of the courtyard.
I said to Johnny, "I'm not paying a sent for bail so you can forget that." He started walking off and I called the detective over, saying, "If I let you book me and fingerprint me can we go to court? Today?"
It was then that the other cop, a white cop said, "We can do that and give you a warning to appear in court, then you can go."
The detective said, "I know where you live so if you don't appear we can arrest you."
I said, "I've come here today in order to appear in court, but you arrested me. I have every intention of going to court."
The white officer then volunteered to take my prints and fill in the 'release form' etc. I've had two run ins with the police in about a month, and this guy restored some of my faith in the police. Old school, but he had his priorities in the right place. He said that 'in the old days we were allowed to use our discretion. If it was up to me, you would never have been arrested. But this guy is a new guy.'
He also said something else. 'At 5am this morning we were instructed to make arrests because there have been too few arrests this week. So if there is a docket they want arrests.'
This made complete sense - the other two guys in the cells seemed innocent to me, even a cursory discussion with them (and me) would support this.
Interestingly, while I was being fingerprinted the docket was on the table, and I noticed sellotaped to it was a yellow folder containing Kodak prints. Evidence of my malicious damage. With my heart in my throat I took a risk and quickly looked through them. It was at this point that I noticed the refrigerator with shelves and fresh food packed inside. There were a few other photos, but an idiot could tell you that an old cardboard box or a picture of an old vacuum cleaner (that looks as if it has been dredged out of a sewer) isn't evidence of damage. The thought occurred to me to remove all but one or two of the half dozen or so photos, but it didn't seem necessary to 'tamper' with this excuse for evidence.
A few moments later the white detective returned, signed my 'warning to appear in court' and I then went through the process of being booked out and signing for all my belongings. During this process the injured prisoner was also fingerprinted. I was shocked at the remarks made to him, intended to scare the shit out of him. He was told that all his buddies had signed sworn statements against him (the cop repeatedly asked him if he was going to change his statement). But I remember what he said to me in the cell: 'Why would I be driving my friends car?' The cops also asked him if he had beaten up an old woman with a wheel spanner (this was quite a shocking piece of news) and if he had a criminal record. He said this was his first time in jail. It did appear that he was in a car that may have been hijacked, or a hijacked car crashed into their car. Apparently 6 cars were damaged that night.
I was then released out of the courtyard and went to find my girlfriend. When I arrived my girlfriend said, "You have another charge against you now as well."
"For what?"
"Intimidation."
"Jeepers I can prove I didn't damage her property but how do I defend myself against this?"
She was explaining our circumstances to the white officer who had booked me (fingerprinted me and released me) and he gave us a lot of assistance, from giving direction to the magistrate's court in Hillbrow (I was due to appear first thing Friday. the 17th, the next day). He advised us that both cases (malicious damage to property and the intimidation case) be dealt with simultaneously. He also advised us (on a piece of paper) on who the prosecutor was and to repeat certain facts and items of information we'd provided him with in the course of our discussion (including the statement being taken on the 14th and my being arrested the 16th - earlier that day).
With that we left the station at about 12:30. I contacted my work to let them know I was on my way (it was my first opportunity to do so). But I had a gift with me - the appreciation of my freedom. Something you take for granted until it is taken away.
More episodes of Slum Wars:
1. The mudslinging begins
2. The Farce Continues
1 comment:
This is good, keep them coming :-)
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