Latest news with #Bloemfontein

The Herald
20 hours ago
- The Herald
Two men jailed for brutal vigilante attack on alleged drug dealer
Free State police confiscated an assortment of dangerous weapons from a vigilante mob that murdered an alleged drug dealer in January 2023: pangas, daggers, knives, garden shears, a hoe, scissors, a screwdriver, axe and petrol bombs. 'The incident unfolded when the Bloemfontein public order policing team was deployed to Bethlehem for crowd management duties after reports of community members confronting alleged drug dealers in the Bohlokong area,' said police spokesperson Sgt Mahlomola Kareli. 'One of the houses targeted was that of the alleged drug lord in the community.' Two female police officers intervened when a large crowd started stabbing a 37-year-old man with pangas and knives. The victim died at the scene. Two men were arrested: Joseph Tshabalala, 44, also known as 'Toki', and Ernest Semela, 25, also known as 'Bikkie'. Seventeen more suspects were rounded up, including a women, with an assortment of weapons and petrol bombs. ' After a two-year investigation and trial, the two primary suspects, Joseph 'Toki' Tshabalala and Ernest 'Bikkie' Semela, pleaded guilty to murder. They were each sentenced to 15 years' imprisonment for murder,' said Kareli. 'The case against 17 other suspects was withdrawn.' TimesLIVE


Telegraph
5 days ago
- Sport
- Telegraph
My guide to the Lions Test referees
In 2009, World Rugby ripped up the history books and appointed British and Irish referees to officiate on a Lions tour. Not just any Lions tour; this was a tour to the rugby heartland of South Africa. And though Nigel Owens, Alain Rolland and I were not involved in the Test matches, we were involved in some of the full-blooded provincial games, as the Lions faced up against the Bulls, Sharks and Stormers. I was appointed to referee the Lions against the Free State Cheetahs in Bloemfontein – having run touch in three other games – and it was one of the highlights of my career. Not only did I experience the sea of red shirts around the city in the days leading up to the match, but I saw the best players of the home nations take on the world champions in their own backyard. It was epic, and a huge honour to be the first Englishman to referee the Lions. There will be two other firsts on this Lions tour: Nika Amashukeli will become the first Georgian to referee the Lions and Andrea Piardi the first Italian. The trio will be completed by Ben O'Keeffe, who refereed the second Test in the last Lions series in 2021, a game played only a few days after Rassie Erasmus's 62-minute online rant about what he perceived to be refereeing inconsistencies. Amashukeli continues to make 'firsts'. Not only was he the first match official from Georgia to referee at a World Cup, but he was also the first to referee a Six Nations hame and a Champions Cup final. Piardi has been the go-to man over the past three seasons in the United Rugby Championship (URC) and refereed the final for the past three years. O'Keeffe burst on to the scene at the 2019 World Cup when he superbly refereed the final pool match of the tournament in the highly emotional Japan v Scotland game. At the 2023 Rugby World Cup he refereed the quarter-final between France and South Africa and the week afterwards he was in charge when England lost to South Africa in the semi-final in Paris. It's fair to say that they are a very experienced team, but like every Test match, the coaches will currently be analysing each referee to see if they can gain an advantage, or perhaps an insight, into how the officials may interpret the game. And if I know Joe Schmidt, he will be looking at some of the stats and noting that these three officials have some distinct differences. Emphasis will be on attack I have explained on these pages before that nothing sucks the life out of a stadium more than a promising attack being stopped by a referee's whistle for a technical side entry or a holding-on penalty given too quickly. Referees who reward the attack more tend to produce games with more continuity and fewer stoppages. Over the past two international seasons, O'Keeffe, who will referee the opening Test this weekend in Brisbane, has given almost 60 per cent of his penalties against the defence. This tendency was obvious when he refereed the Lions v Western Force in Perth on June 28. O'Keeffe gave only 16 penalties all match and, amazingly, none were against the attack. This could explain why Farrell opted for disruptors in the back row rather than an out-and-out jackler, putting Tom Curry ahead of Jac Morgan. Most pleasing for the spectators is that all three of the referees insist on quick ball when teams are attacking, and they all go hard against defending players who are lying on the wrong side. All three also have an average ruck-speed time of less than three seconds, a measurement of how quickly the ball comes away from the breakdown. This would suggest we are in for some attacking rugby. Lions should target scrum in first Test Amashukeli is not one for wasting time at the scrum. He resets only one in five scrums, and that is supported by being top of the scoreboard when it comes to having the highest ball in play. The Lions have used the scrum to devastating effect so far this tour, securing 18 penalties through the series. O'Keeffe averages five penalties at the scrum per game, and having witnessed the Aussies concede a couple against Fiji – a team without the power of Tadhg Furlong and Ellis Genge – I expect it is an area that the Lions will target. Worrying for the Lions is that Piardi, who will referee the second Test in Melbourne, resets more than one in three scrums. Which is often a sign that the referee does not give penalties to a dominant scrum. I imagine that John Fogarty, the Lions scrummaging coach, will be whispering into Piardi's ear this weekend as he runs up and down the touchline in front of the technical boxes. Best to call on TMO sparingly This week I was asked to join Scotty Stephenson, the Kiwi broadcaster and commentator, on his early-morning breakfast show. He was discussing the use of TMO after three potential New Zealand tries were scrubbed off in the van. I explained to him that technology improves sport – think Snicko in cricket or Hawk-Eye in tennis – but that it is so important that TMOs don't go looking at every pass or rewind every single breakdown. If they do, we will be waiting until September for this series to finish. At the end of the Lions' match against the Australia and New Zealand invitational side, I was scratching my head to understand what Shannon Frizell had done wrong for the TMO to come in, but after a lot of searching for the best angle, he was given a yellow card for a dangerous clean-out. TMOs are there to prevent the big howler – not to scrutinise every clear-out – and Amashukeli buys into that, averaging just over one review per match. Some readers will remember the Champions Cup final, with seven TMO interactions between the Georgian and the South African, Marius Jonker. They will work together again in the third Test, but I am hoping that the European final was just a blip in the figures. O'Keeffe will kick things off this weekend with his compatriot Richard Kelly in the van, and I'm hoping the number of TMO referrals is around fewer than two, O'Keeffe's average in each of his past nine matches. If it is, it will add to the flow of the game. My main hope, however, is that this is the last time you read the names Amashukeli, Piardi and O'Keeffe in these columns and they can reminisce on being part of Lions history for all the right reasons.


Mail & Guardian
15-07-2025
- Politics
- Mail & Guardian
When the algorithm becomes the jury — how influencers police public opinion
Graphic: John McCann Social media was supposed to be a place where everyone could finally have a voice. For years, we heard that platforms like Facebook, Instagram, X and TikTok would open up public conversation. No more gatekeepers in newsrooms deciding whose views mattered and no more barriers to ordinary people being heard. That was exciting. Imagine a digital square where the kid in Mthatha and the student in Bloemfontein could all debate big ideas as equals. A space where different experiences could meet without fear or favour. But, if you spend any time online, you will know it didn't really turn out that way. Instead of becoming a free marketplace of ideas, social media has evolved into a space where a small group of influencers and big accounts set the agenda. These are the people who decide which opinions are 'right', which are 'dangerous' and which deserve to be ridiculed. The irony is that many of these influencers built their brands on the idea of challenging old power structures. They spoke up when the mainstream media ignored certain issues. They fought for visibility, and that work mattered, and still does, but somewhere along the way, the line between calling out injustice and policing all disagreement got blurred. Now, it sometimes feels like social media has simply replaced one set of gatekeepers with another. It happens repeatedly. A controversial issue breaks out, perhaps about a politically charged subject such as race, feminism or the management of the economy, and within hours, the largest accounts with the most reach have declared which perspective is acceptable. Those who hold a different view quickly learn that it's safer to say nothing. This isn't just about social disapproval. On platforms that thrive on engagement — any post that doesn't fit the popular narrative risks being buried by the algorithms or swarmed by abusive replies. The cost of speaking up can be high; it can sometimes cost you your reputation, mental health and even your job. Hence, most decide to remain quiet. However, this doesn't mean they agree. It means they've seen what happens to others who speak out and decided it's not worth it. The German political scientist Elisabeth Noelle-Neumann's spiral of silence theory fundamentally posits that individuals have an instinctive fear of isolation. This compels them to monitor their environment, particularly opinions voiced in public, to assess which views are dominant. When people perceive that their opinions are unpopular, they are more likely to remain silent, preferring the safety of conformity over the risk of ostracism. Over time, this process amplifies the dominance of one view, not necessarily because it is intrinsically correct, but because dissent is suppressed through social pressure, so it looks as if everyone agrees even when they don't. That's how a small group ends up controlling the conversation on social media. Take a look at any trending topic on X or Facebook and you'll see this dynamic in action. A few large accounts decide that a certain view is unacceptable. They post their verdict, sometimes in mocking tones or with hashtags demanding accountability, then their followers pile in to amplify the message. If you've ever watched someone get dogpiled, you know how nasty it can get. Strangers will flood their replies with insults, demands for apologies and calls for punishment. Screenshots of the offending opinion will be shared in group chats and private forums, often stripped of context. Sometimes the target did say something reckless or offensive, other times they simply voiced a perspective that wasn't popular with the influencers in charge and, in the background, thousands of users read the exchange and quietly take note — this is the price of disagreeing. It's not surprising that most people choose self-censorship over open discussion. This culture doesn't just happen by accident. It thrives because social media platforms are designed to reward outrage and conformity. Algorithms push content that gets engagement, likes, shares, comments — even angry reactions. The more dramatic or polarising the post, the further it spreads. That's why influencers so often lean into profanity, invasion of privacy and any kind of sensationalism. It's a guaranteed way to grow their reach and, while it works for them, it damages the rest of us. Complex and multilayered issues are reduced to black-and-white takes, nuance disappears, anyone who asks a genuine question gets treated like an enemy. It's also worth saying that this isn't only about opinions, it's about finance. On Facebook, monetisation tools have turned big pages into income streams. Influencers can earn real money from in-stream ads, stars and subscriptions. The bigger your following, the bigger your payout and that creates an extra incentive to protect your turf. It's not surprising that many influencers act like gatekeepers — when you challenge their narrative, you're not just disagreeing, you're threatening their income. This new power dynamic is rarely acknowledged. Most people still talk about social media as if it's a level playing field, but it's not. A handful of personalities effectively decide what's acceptable to say and, if you have a smaller audience, your opinions are easier to ignore or attack. Over time, this creates a closed ecosystem. If you want to grow your following, you're better off repeating whatever the big voices are saying. You learn to avoid certain topics and watch your words. While this might feel like a personal problem, just individuals adapting to the platform, it adds up to something bigger. It creates a culture where real debate is replaced by a performance of agreement. The saddest part is that it didn't have to be this way. Social media could still be a space where unpopular views get tested, challenged and sometimes even changed. But, instead, we've normalised a culture where punishment comes before understanding. If you're someone who has ever hesitated before posting, you already know what this feels like. The calculation happens in your head: 'Is it worth it?' and most of the time, the answer is 'No.' It's tempting to think that silence means consensus, that if nobody is speaking up, it must be because everyone agrees, but that's rarely true. More often, it's a sign that people have weighed the risks and decided they'd rather say nothing than deal with the consequences. We should worry about what this does to freedom of speech and tolerance. When influencers alone control the narrative, we miss out on opportunities to find common ground. This results in an illusion of unity, an illusion that breaks down the moment we step offline and realise how much resentment and frustration has been building online. You don't have to be a public relations professional to see why this is a problem. In PR, we learn that perception matters just as much as reality. If people feel as if they can't speak out, it doesn't matter how many times you tell them the platform is 'open to all'. The reality is that it's open only to those who agree with the prevailing sentiment. That perception is shaping the behaviour of millions of South Africans and it's the reason people retreat into private groups and encrypted chats and stop engaging with public posts. It's the reason many of us feel like we're living in two worlds: the world of performative agreement online and the world of honest disagreement offline. Next time you see someone speaking up, even if you don't agree, ask yourself whether they really deserve to be humiliated or erased and the next time you feel that familiar fear in your gut before posting, remind yourself that your voice matters too. If we all keep quiet, the conversation belongs only to the people willing to weaponise their influence and that's not the kind of public square any of us signed up for. Lindokuhle Tonono is an honours student at Unisa.


News24
14-07-2025
- Business
- News24
Bruce Whitfield back on the mic with a new weekly News24 podcast
Simon Sonnekus/ News24 Acclaimed financial journalist Bruce Whitfield is launching a new weekly podcast on News24. Whitfield spent two decades helping people understand and enjoy business news as the voice of The Money Show. He has written three books (with a fourth coming out soon), is a keynote speaker, and has contributed widely to various South African media houses. His secret? Well, he's not completely sure – but not being afraid to ask stupid questions has certainly helped. Whitfield's spent his early years in the Free State, where he went to boarding school in Bloemfontein at the age of eight. He matriculated in Grahamstown and pursued a journalism degree at Rhodes. After graduating, Whitfield started his career as a bulletin writer at 702, before he was thrust out into the world as a field reporter. He said that he spoke so fast at the start of his career that he earned the nickname 'Ayrton Senna' after the late great Brazilian Formula 1 driver who won three drivers' championship world titles with McLaren. He said he spoke so fast, 'mostly because I was so frightened of what I was covering'. He followed a university girlfriend to the UK, where he stayed for a few years after democracy, before coming back to South Africa and running a radio service for the SA Press Association. He briefly produced some shows for SAFM. 'Very honest' Whitfield joined Moneyweb in 2000. This was his first foray into financial journalism. While it proved to be crucial for the trajectory that his career would take, it wasn't a smooth start. 'Three weeks into my time at Moneyweb, I was called in for a meeting and told I was about to be fired because they had never employed anybody quite as clueless as me – to which I responded: 'But I told you, in the 10 interviews you made me do that I knew nothing' – to which I was told, 'Well, you told everybody the same thing, so you were very honest about it, but nobody believed that anybody could be as clueless as you!'' They agreed to keep him on until at least the end of his three-month probation period. Before his time was up, he ended up breaking 'the biggest tax story of the decade' about a R1.4-billion dispute between the South African Revenue Service and businessman Dave King. The story shot the lights out, and they agreed to keep him on a little longer (three more years, to be precise). Whitfield left Moneyweb to join Primedia, where he started what would become The Money Show. During his two decades on The Money Show, Whitfield estimates that he interviewed roughly 50 000 people. Whitfield said that the show developed a 'wonderful following' because it became about interviewing entrepreneurs and interesting people, in addition to corporate people like CEOs, who were also integral. Whitfield stepped back from The Money Show a year ago to focus on other projects. Make it relatable Whitfield said that the willingness that he showed early in his career to expose his ignorance and to be the person who says that he 'doesn't know' is something he has tried to carry with him through his career. 'Most people in most places are really nice, really willing to help, and really willing to listen. If you shut up and listen, you learn stuff,' he said. 'I think what I've been able to do over many years — and I've fallen into the bad traps of jargon from time to time — is always putting myself in the position of 2000s Bruce to go 'actually, why does the even matter? Why should anyone even care about it?'' Those are the questions he plans to consider when creating Bruce Whitfield's Business Week, the new weekly podcast he is launching on News24. 'People are often intimidated or bored by business coverage, as they can't relate to it. I have learnt over many years to show why business matters in everyone's life and make it relatable. 'A lot of what you see in business coverage is really important, but the stories are told badly. I operate on a philosophy that not everything that is interesting is important, and not everything important is interesting. 'My job is to tell the difference and deliver great business content without the boring bits,' he said. He added that the podcast would explain everything important that has happened in the world in 30 minutes. After being away from broadcasting for about a year, Whitfield said it is good to be back behind the mic. 'It's good to be getting back into the saddle again in some form, and truly consolidating what's important in the world and helping people understand what is worth worrying about and not worrying about,' he said. Bruce Whitfield's Business Week kicks off on Thursday 17 July at 17:00.


Telegraph
10-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
We reunite Will Greenwood with doctor who saved his life on Lions tour
One of the most memorable moments of the British and Irish Lions tour of South Africa in 1997 was a harrowing one. In a tour match against the Free State in Bloemfontein, Will Greenwood was knocked unconscious after his head smashed into the rock-hard ground. It was over to Dr James Robson, a Lions legend in his own right, to treat Greenwood, who had swallowed his tongue and was struggling to breathe. The incident was captured in intimate detail in the Living with Lions documentary, ensuring it has gone down in folklore. 'Gentlemen, thank you so much for making time for this, it is an honour to be able to facilitate this reunion and to relive one of the most poignant moments in the history of the Lions.' 'It's going to be a very one-sided interview because I don't remember too much!' 'James, let's start at the beginning.' 'The 1997 Lions tour was one of the most special. I remember going up to the Highveld, we flew up for the midweek game between the first and second Tests, against the Free State Cheetahs in Bloemfontein. One of the striking things was the temperature. It was a roasting hot day. 'The other thing is that it appeared we were playing on a ground that was like green concrete. The pitch was so hard. It was one of the fastest games I think I've ever witnessed, the speed from both sides because of the conditions was phenomenal. Will was playing fantastically well.' 'The lads had won the first Test, and we flew up to Bloem knowing that we had to keep winning to keep the tour going. Mum and Dad had flown over from the UK that day. Now the players all have short-sleeved jerseys. In the old days you had a decision to make. They were all long sleeves. You either left them long or cut them off with scissors. I always cut my sleeves off. 'But on that night, Allan Bateman had been out for a warm-up. He told me not to cut my sleeves off because it was a bit dewy and he knew how I liked to carry the ball and thought I might get a bit more purchase with the moisture and fabric of the sleeve. Lo and behold, the sleeves that I did not cut off, were the sleeves with which I was whipped around in the tackle by Jaco Coetzee, the Free State No 8. It was the last thing I remember.' 'In the tackle Will had been whipped around and struck his head on the ground. 'Typically, he had been injured on the furthest side from the medical team, so we had a bit of a trek to run on. Luckily Rob Wainwright was playing. Rob was a medic in the army, and he administered the first aid to Will, putting him into the recovery position.' 'Backy [Neil Back] stood over me and said: 'You should have passed, you greedy t---.' That was how it was reported back to me!' 'The beauty about medics and rugby players is that black humour is entirely acceptable. I remember running on to Will and he was having what looked like a fit, he was shaking and sort of convulsing a little so that was scary for those of us around him. I remember taking him off the pitch on a stretcher and as we approached the touchline, I distinctly remember Will's mum saying: 'William, William, what have you done?'' 'When I am a bit p----d now, my lads take the mickey out of me by saying, 'William, William, what have you done?!'' 'You do feel for parents, you feel for loved ones when they see their loved ones being taken off injured. Will had lost the ability to maintain his airway, so the tongue tends to slip back. I don't like the term 'swallow your tongue'. If you are lying back the tongue can slip back, which is why Rob put you in the recovery position. 'We got into the medical room, and I was struggling to maintain his airway and I kept thinking any minute now a more senior doctor will come and relieve me. It was automatic. My instinct was just to maintain his airway. Get oxygen on him, get him to a place of safety and get help. It is only in the aftermath you think about, 'What if?' 'Fortunately, he decided to wake up. I remember his mum coming to the door of the medical room and vaguely said, 'He's fine', lying through my teeth.' 'I've watched the video, and I wake up when she whispers in my ear. I come around and I don't know whether I was rude to her, but she says, 'He'll be fine now, he'll be fine'.' "Has he broken his neck?" I never knew my Mum had said that until 15 minutes ago and this happened in 1997. I have never brought myself to watch the DVD. When you are shouting and screaming at players just remember they are part of a family who just want their kids to be safe.. — Will Greenwood (@WillGreenwood) July 30, 2021 'How did you keep the airway open?' 'We can do a jaw-thrust manoeuvre. If you are conscious and someone does it, it is incredibly uncomfortable. When you are unconscious it doesn't matter, you just bring the mandible forwards and that brings the tongue forwards, and it opens the airway. It is a life-saving manoeuvre, there is no doubt about that, because if you lose your airway, you are not going to last too long.' 'How long was I out for?' 'That is difficult to say. It seemed like an eternity. You were out long enough for the time we administered help on the ground, then got you on and off the stretcher the full length of the pitch and into the medical room. So, you are talking for a few minutes there. He ended up in the neurosurgical unit, that's how serious it was.' 'In the old days you didn't leave the field with concussion because it meant you were out for 21 days. My dad is 83 now, and he tells the story of me in the back of the ambulance, and I sat bolt upright on the gurney. 'Dad, dad, tell them it is my hamstring', I said, because I didn't want to miss the second Test. Now I don't know whether to laugh or cry.' 'Fortunately, things have changed now, players will own up to concussion, players around them will say, 'Doc, he is not right, you need to get him off'.' 'I remember waking up in a Bloemfontein hospital, lifting the sheets and wondering why I had a Lions kit on. I couldn't work it out. I also remember calling out, 'Oh, my shoulder' and hearing an Afrikaans accent say, 'Don't worry Mr Greenwood, you banged your head'. It was actually my shoulder that gave me problems next season, not my head. Amid the stress to save my life, I had actually also sprung my AC [acromioclavicular] joint. I also noticed my gumshield was in my sock. Who put it there Robbo?' 'I think it was Rob. Nowadays we would leave it in unless it was causing an obstruction but in those days, we tried to clear the airway.' 'The Lions team went back down to Durban straight away to prepare for the second Test. I stayed on with Will. I remember going back the following morning and they said you had been complaining about your shoulder but that it was quite common for people with head injuries to think they have injured something else. But you actually had injured your shoulder.' 'Did you take me back?' 'Yes, we went down on the plane. Now I think we should have stayed up for another day or two.' 'I can't remember any of that. I spoke to my missus every day for three days. We had only just started going out back then. When I finally came around, at least in my head anyway, I told her I was so sorry I hadn't called her. She said, 'What are you talking about? We have spoken for an hour and half every day'.' 'That shows the gravity of the head injury. I felt more reassured when I saw him the following morning, I must admit, I was still anxious, but I knew it was in a place of safety. You rely on your secondary-care colleagues and when you're abroad, you're relying on people that you've never met before. But medics are medics the world over. We share a close bond. I've got regrets. As I say, I wish that I stayed another day in Bloemfontein and that would have made the plane journey a little bit less worrisome. But Lions tours are special, and these guys that play for the team are extra special.' 'My dad gave me a score for every single game that I played for England and the Lions. I got a double plus for something special, then a plus, a zero for neutral and a minus. My score in the World Cup final in 2003 was 88.6 per cent – I missed one tackle, I made one s--- pass and one knock-on – it still really p----- me off. I say this because we chased the perfect game. 'The irony of ironies, this game was the closest I ever got to the perfect game. I scored 99 per cent. I had one neutral touch, but no negative touches, like Robbo said, we flew out of the blocks and took them apart. Brendan Venter was my opposite man and he sent me his shirt after the game because we hadn't been able to swap it. It was a really nice touch.' 'Did you go back home then?' 'Yes. I remember being in Durban watching Jerry Guscott kick his drop-goal and drinking far too much alcohol after being told to have six months without alcohol. Fran Cotton [the Lions manager] had played with my old man, and he said I could stay. But I was uncapped and didn't really know what the form was. I just felt I was a spare part. Now I would have stayed. It is one of my great regrets. Instead, I went to the Henley festival and watched the third Test on a big screen.' 'Yes, I hadn't watched the incident back until we had a 25 th anniversary of the tour. We did a whole heap of interviews in the build-up to the reunion and they surprised us on a call by showing it to me. It knocked me for six. Not for myself, but I just felt sick watching it for my mum and dad. 'As a rugby player you have to feel you're invincible. You feel invincible. The docs and the medics, they make you feel invincible. I remember thinking it was just a blur, and suddenly I was in Henley watching the third Test and I had not really said goodbye and thinking, 'S---, I should have done'. Hopefully through the years I have said thanks quietly and privately. I am hugely grateful to James for what happened that night.' 'I love the job that I've done. I'm proud to say that I've been there and stood at the pitch-side to look after a lot of these boys. It's a job that I wish I could continue to do, but at some point you've got to hand over the reins. His name crops up every now and again, sometimes he is after tickets, other times he's just asking me how I am. I'm just glad for Will's sake that everything worked out well.'