AS an entertainment reporter, I have witnessed numerous ugly scenes at Zimdancehall shows and written about it. November 8, however, turned ...
AS an entertainment reporter, I have witnessed numerous ugly scenes at Zimdancehall shows and written about it. November 8, however, turned out to be the day I became the story while covering Sting 2014 held at City Sports Centre in Harare.
Little did I know what awaited me at the gig when I went for the assignment hoping to return with good copy.
I knew that with the hype of the show, there was definitely going to be throwing of cans, something that has become synonymous with dancehall gigs.
The promoter, Partson Chimbodza – popularly known as Chipaz–probably had a premonition that mayhem was possible and as a result, had erected a fence on the stage to act as a shield should fans throw cans.
However, before leaving for the show, my sixth sense kept telling me something bad would happen at the gig and I even shared my feelings with Tarisai Maringire a fellow reporter.
My suspicions were confirmed in the wee hours of the following day as the show progressed.
When I arrived at the venue, I had to take almost 30 minutes to observe what was happening at the VIP entrance and some gates used by fans to access the arena.
I decided to proceed into the auditorium where the action was.
The show started off well with artistes, among them Jiggaz clashing with Badman, Terminator with Confused and Squanda with Xpatriot and Bounty Lisa among others.
However, all hell broke loose around 3am when the main acts headlining the clash, Soul Jah Love and Seh Calaz, and fans started throwing missiles on stage.
As Seh Calaz was temporarily leaving the stage to calm the storm, Soul Jah Love’s bouncers blocked him before manhandling him.
The pushing and shoving began and violence later exploded, forcing panic–stricken police officers to throw teargas canisters into the crowd, leading to a stampede that could have been fatal is an enclosed space.
Fans had to scurry to safety in the ensuing melee.
Catching the scent of a breaking story, I decided to watch the drama as it unfolded from the VIP arena. But when I realised the situation was degenerating into chaos, I decided to find my way out of the venue.
It was unfortunate that the venue was already filled with smoke and I could hardly negotiate my way out while thousands of fans tried to seek refuge at the VIP bay instead of getting out.
My decision to take what I thought would be a shorter way out of the cauldron could have been my biggest undoing.
To my own alacrity, I realised I had planted myself right in the middle of a war zone and inhaled more teargas than before.
Those who reacted faster, unlike me, escaped unhurt while the snail paced ones became victims.
With teargas stinging into my eyes, fellow scribe, Nyore Madziyanike, turned out to be the “hero” of the moment when he came to my rescue.
He picked a bottle of what he assumed to be water and poured it on my T-Shirt to cover my nose and mouth to block the gas.
I later realised the bottle had urine.
A photographer Tsitsi Ndabambi, who had also come to cover the clash, struggled to negotiate her way out while other scribes Rest Mutore, Blessing Masakadza and Trust Khosa seemed to have found their way out.
I jumped over the rails, luckily, I found Winky D’s manager Jonathan Banda there. He poured some little water he had in a 500ml bottle on me before whisking me away to his car so that he could drive me to the nearest clinic.
But when I realised that barricades where falling vehicles at the spot where I had parked my vehicle, I decided to go and collect the vehicle. I drove home like a man possessed to avoid the crowds.
I cannot recall how I got home but I managed to send a message to friend Taurai Mangudhla who responded promptly and came home with Tendai Kamhungira and they found me sleeping in the car by the gate as I had failed to summon enough strength to open the gate.
The trauma will not quickly fade but I will always be grateful to Madziyanike and Banda, my personal First Aid team.
With this profession, death can come anytime and anywhere.
Glory be to God I am ALIVE!!!
Little did I know what awaited me at the gig when I went for the assignment hoping to return with good copy.
I knew that with the hype of the show, there was definitely going to be throwing of cans, something that has become synonymous with dancehall gigs.
The promoter, Partson Chimbodza – popularly known as Chipaz–probably had a premonition that mayhem was possible and as a result, had erected a fence on the stage to act as a shield should fans throw cans.
However, before leaving for the show, my sixth sense kept telling me something bad would happen at the gig and I even shared my feelings with Tarisai Maringire a fellow reporter.
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| Cheating death at Sting 2014 Zimdancehall show - Eyewitness |
When I arrived at the venue, I had to take almost 30 minutes to observe what was happening at the VIP entrance and some gates used by fans to access the arena.
I decided to proceed into the auditorium where the action was.
The show started off well with artistes, among them Jiggaz clashing with Badman, Terminator with Confused and Squanda with Xpatriot and Bounty Lisa among others.
However, all hell broke loose around 3am when the main acts headlining the clash, Soul Jah Love and Seh Calaz, and fans started throwing missiles on stage.
As Seh Calaz was temporarily leaving the stage to calm the storm, Soul Jah Love’s bouncers blocked him before manhandling him.
The pushing and shoving began and violence later exploded, forcing panic–stricken police officers to throw teargas canisters into the crowd, leading to a stampede that could have been fatal is an enclosed space.
Fans had to scurry to safety in the ensuing melee.
Catching the scent of a breaking story, I decided to watch the drama as it unfolded from the VIP arena. But when I realised the situation was degenerating into chaos, I decided to find my way out of the venue.
It was unfortunate that the venue was already filled with smoke and I could hardly negotiate my way out while thousands of fans tried to seek refuge at the VIP bay instead of getting out.
My decision to take what I thought would be a shorter way out of the cauldron could have been my biggest undoing.
To my own alacrity, I realised I had planted myself right in the middle of a war zone and inhaled more teargas than before.
Those who reacted faster, unlike me, escaped unhurt while the snail paced ones became victims.
With teargas stinging into my eyes, fellow scribe, Nyore Madziyanike, turned out to be the “hero” of the moment when he came to my rescue.
He picked a bottle of what he assumed to be water and poured it on my T-Shirt to cover my nose and mouth to block the gas.
I later realised the bottle had urine.
A photographer Tsitsi Ndabambi, who had also come to cover the clash, struggled to negotiate her way out while other scribes Rest Mutore, Blessing Masakadza and Trust Khosa seemed to have found their way out.
I jumped over the rails, luckily, I found Winky D’s manager Jonathan Banda there. He poured some little water he had in a 500ml bottle on me before whisking me away to his car so that he could drive me to the nearest clinic.
But when I realised that barricades where falling vehicles at the spot where I had parked my vehicle, I decided to go and collect the vehicle. I drove home like a man possessed to avoid the crowds.
I cannot recall how I got home but I managed to send a message to friend Taurai Mangudhla who responded promptly and came home with Tendai Kamhungira and they found me sleeping in the car by the gate as I had failed to summon enough strength to open the gate.
The trauma will not quickly fade but I will always be grateful to Madziyanike and Banda, my personal First Aid team.
With this profession, death can come anytime and anywhere.
Glory be to God I am ALIVE!!!
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