My beurt

Journalists supposedly have rights. One of them are that you, just as any member of the public, have the right to take a photo, as long as you are behind the barrier lines, or if you are lucky and someone allows you to cross them.

But when the top brass say no, it is no. Regardless of your rights.

I experienced that first hand Thursday. Ironically shortly after attending a touching presentation by respected retired policeman Anton Crafford.

Anton, who was a forensic expert, once again made me realize how important it is for the media to have a good relationship with the police. And after listening to his advice, I undertook to keep that in mind on the next scene I go to: Do not contaminate the scene, give the officers space to do their job, maintain a good relationship, show respect, keep your distance until you are invited to come closer.

Unfortunately for me, all that flew out the window when, as luck would have it, we were stuck in the blazing sun on a crime scene where the senior officer reminded of a toddler throwing a tantrum. An officer that I will not name out of respect for other, more respectable, officers.

We are told that we all have rights. But as a journalist you have zero rights, only privileges.

When you are restricted from moving around, not even a hundred metres from the actual scene, whilst looking on as truck drivers get out of their trucks and go to have a closer look without so much as an eyebrow lifting, you know this is personal.

The irony is that personal vendettas which boil to the surface in a professional scenario, only reflects bad on the person who cannot separate personal opinions from professional conduct. Barking orders to your subordinates whilst not having the guts to confront the problem yourself only shows what type of character you have.

We are in an uphill battle against crime. The police even more so because of their tarnished image. As a young journalist my mother used to repeatedly say to me: “Rather make the police look better than they are than worse than they might be, because the stability of a community rests on the respect they have for authority.”

I have taken that to heart.

But when a senior officer, one who is in charge of our community, acts like a child and defies the rights of others, even after the suggestions of other, more experienced officers on the scene, then I start to worry. Because you are supposed to be an example, and you were a poor one.

The satisfaction I got from lifting my camera, taking my photo and watching you jump up and down from a hundred metres away, was very little and fleeting.