/ 10 December 1999

Big Brother comes to the Mother City

Business against Crime has installed another 63 spy cameras in the city of Cape Town, writes Marianne Merten

Spy cameras on Cape Town’s streets from Eastern Boulevard to Roland Road near Parliament? It may sound like Big Brother is watching, but the people behind the closed-circuit television cameras are adamant they are just doing their bit to fight crime.

Business against Crime this week installed another 63 cameras around the city area, bringing the total to 75. All are linked to a central control room – at a secret location somewhere in the Mother City – that is staffed around the clock.

Since the start of the 12-camera pilot project a year ago, more than 250 crimes have been caught on camera leading to 210 arrests for everything from muggings to traffic offences, drug deals, stabbings, shootings and bomb threats.

“I’m not just a guard,” says control room inspector Maurice Hendricks, previously a security guard at Alexkor diamond mine in the Northern Cape. “You are actively involved here.”

Job requirements include knowledge of street life, willingness to be trained and an attitude not to regard this job as just any other. Women and the disabled had to be represented.

Control room inspector Ross Harris has been confined to a wheelchair since he fell ill. He was previously a DJ and a bouncer, and has inside knowledge of the CBD club land.

“They call me the experiment,” he jokes. “But I worked damn hard at getting here. And they have realised it can work out.”

The monitors are in contact with various police stations, the flying squad, traffic officers and municipal patrol officers. The response time is between three to five seconds.

And there is a strict rule: if there is no police officer at the centre, the surveillance operation shuts down. A police superintendent recently took up his permanent post at the control room.

A large number of dockets have been opened on the basis of the videotapes, which are admissible in court.

At the end of January, the cameras were used to track six People against Gangsterism and Drugs members along Eastern Boulevard after reports of a suspicious vehicle heading from Sea Point were received. The men are now awaiting trial for illegally possessing firearms and ammunition.

In another dramatic incident, a car thief was arrested within 64 seconds of breaking into a vehicle outside the Castle.

Then there are the more mundane victories. Muggings at ATMs and of tourists in St George’s Mall have all been captured on video and, more importantly, the criminals have also been apprehended.

Business against Crime Western Cape director John Penberthy says one reason for expanding the network is to ensure that criminals do not simply migrate to areas that are not covered.

Sites are already being tested in the gangland of Manenberg on the Cape Flats. Other spots have been identified in the Athlone and Mitchells Plain CBDs. By May, the beachfront area between Sea Point and Camps Bay should be covered.

It cost about R12-million to set up the centre and about R1-million a month to run it. The money was raised by business, which will fund the operation through a levy, and the Cape Town city council.

In the face of the declining numbers of law enforcement officers countrywide from 208 000 in 1995 to about 120 000 and the high absenteeism rate, this technology becomes a useful tool.

“We are running on a rugby field with only seven men playing,” Penberthy says, “therefore the introduction of technology. Surveillance is the most useful aid.”

Although the cameras can zoom in and out, the humans behind the controls must stay alert.

Three people man each of the six consoles of 12 screens. One operates a single screen focusing on specifics, another watches all 12 while the third has a break. They rotate every 45 minutes to prevent eye strain and concentration lapses.

Then there are monitors monitoring the monitors to ensure their fingers do not manipulate the cameras into the wrong direction, say a scantily clad woman.

The cameras rotate 360 degrees and view up to 2km. The Mail & Guardian witnessed a simple demonstration this week: camera number seven focuses clearly on the number plate of a randomly picked car parked on the Grand Parade. The view inside is obscured because of the windscreen sun protector. From there the taxi rank on top of the railway station is in plain view.

The videotapes are stored for three months, and, depending on whether the film is required in court, burned on to a CD to be stored for several years.

Surveillance centre manager Riyaan Parker says it is important to keep the information in case operators are accused of having invaded someone’s privacy.

Parker is also confident that sufficient checks are in place to prevent any of his footage ending up on the Internet.

Hendricks and Harris are not the inspectors’ real names