Many papers appear to be running multi-picture spreads, and the photographers involved were therefore able to enter a portfolio that told a story on the same subject."
THE 6.10 TO SAFETY - THE STORY BEHIND THE STORY
It all began two weeks after the beginnings of the xenophobic attacks in Johannesburg. And it was less than 24 hours after Mozambican Ernesto Nhamuave was torched to death by an angry mob in Ramaphosa Township on the East Rand. Journalist Shaun Smillie and I found ourselves chasing two Metro Police cars that were escorting a Red Cross mini van through Soweto.
We struggled to keep up as the traffic built to its usual rush hour madness. Forced to stop at a traffic light on Old Potchefstroom Road we lost the convoy, but we knew where they were headed. As the traffic lights turned green we continued, dodging mini bus taxis, and rushed to Park Station in the Johannesburg CBD.
The Red Cross' special cargo was a family of six. In haste they had packed what they could carry, their thoughts only to flee from the xenophobic violence and to return to their homeland, Mozambique.
At the station we grabbed our gear and rushed towards the entrance, only to be greeted by a desperate wall of people, children and their belongings. Our family of six had quickly turned into a family of hundreds. Unsure of how to find the particular family of six, Smillie and I split up, we scanned the crowd for about half an hour before we recognised them. We stay closed to them as they rushed through the turnstiles, and headed for platform sixteen to board the train to Komatiepoort.
Grinding to a stop the grimy, yellow and grey Metro Rail train pulled into the station. We surged with the crowd and our subjects as we queued at the open carriage doors. My focus was on little Mawra Ngwenya, who was sporting a red tracksuit. She was seated on her uncles' hip as they pushed through the throng of fellow passengers who were trying to find a seat. The carriage was dark and within minutes it's packed to capacity, but her tracksuit stood out and I'm able to track their progress until they settled in.
Smillie and I stood awkwardly on the platform, watching the family through the smudged window until the train jerked once and slowly pulled out of the station. We waved goodbye as the 6.10, their train to safety, left Johannesburg.
