First person - Sharon Brettkelly went to Wellington this week to cover the protest at Parliament. She writes about what she saw and the people she met as she was making today's episode of The Detail.
Photo: RNZ / Samuel Rillstone
Next to the Old Government Buildings, just a few metres from the Beehive, laundry hangs on a white clothesline on the footpath and a pink towel is draped over the wrought iron fence. Cars, vans and tents are everywhere.
It’s Tuesday morning and I’ve just arrived in Wellington to make a podcast from the protest at Parliament. It’s about an hour after a clash between the Police and protesters over on Molesworth Street, but at first glance this could be a festival campsite just waking up.
That’s until you see the anti-government, anti-mandate messages on the placards.
I’m greeted by people as they wash their breakfast bowls, feed their dogs, settle into their camp chairs and wander to the food tent.
Just a few people walk through the protest site to work, or school, or the shops on Lambton Quay.
A woman tells me she is from Orewa, she points to her campervan and says she was in the convoy that travelled south more than two weeks ago.
She wants to know what the podcast is about and she’s suspicious of what I’ll do with the interview.
“We are tired of mainstream media smearing us from the beginning,” she says.
“I'm a 69-year-old woman who has paid taxes since I was 17. I’ve lived a good hard-working life, my father fought in the Second World War, my grandfather in the First World War. I thought I would never have to fight for New Zealand’s freedoms again.”
A man, who’s cleaning his bowl, says he came down to Wellington from Auckland, where he owns a small timber flooring business.
“Everyone in this little camp here has pretty much lost their jobs. They deserve a little bit of freedom and understanding as to why they are sitting here like this.”
Another man, who gave up working as a fruit picker in the South Island to join the protest, says he tries to bring peace and love when there’s any sign of conflict at the camp.
“There's obviously policemen and women, we call them peace officers, we give them love. We're just standing there holding our ground.”
Those protesters are all camped on the periphery of Parliament Grounds. But when I try to go through the gates, on to Parliament’s front lawn, with Dominion Post editor Anna Fifield, there’s an uneasy tension.
We are turned away twice by security and told that mainstream media are not reporting their side of the story.
“What’s your spin, who are your listeners and where do you broadcast?” asks one man.
We're told to go to the admin tent, but we decide to put away the microphones and walk through a third gate without being stopped.
“I find it a little bit infuriating to hear people say, ‘nobody is listening to us’,” says Fifield.
“I’ve been sending reporters and photographers down here every day and we’ve been telling stories verbatim about why people are here, without disseminating misinformation.
“It’s a balancing act, but I also think we really need to try to understand why so many people have come down here for so long.”
Fifield has been here almost every day of the protest. She walks with me past the blues music tent, the admin tent where people can drop off their dirty laundry, the stage where people gather to hear speakers, a well-stocked first aid shelter and the women and children’s area. It’s crowded, hot and often noisy.
It’s only later in the day when I follow Winston Peters through the crowds that it feels uneasy. People push tightly around Peters, and when I get close and ask him why he’s there, a man in a high-vis protest security vest squeezes my arm and pushes me away.
I put the microphone back in my bag and walk out the gates.
PIJF Photo: .
