Just call me

SA is indeed a mutant country that likes changing from one extreme to the next.

We already have the morphing of apartheid into democracy and now another grand switch is making its mark in history. This extreme makeover is being done on SA's national emergency strategy.

Picture it... you were just held up at gunpoint and your car, wallet, laptop and spearmint gum were taken from you. Lucky for you, they took the gum, but missed your cellphone.

With shaky hands you dial 10111 and... nothing.

It rings for so long that your state of shock and lethargy after the adrenaline rush allows you to forget you're on the phone at all. The sound of the constant ringing lulls you into a state of calm blankness.

You start thinking about your day and what you still have to do. You think you should get to your unfinished errands now... And with a jump you remember what just happened to you and what you're supposed to be doing.

You dial again, with the faint hope that maybe you just punched in the wrong number the first time. And the time after that and the time after that.

You dial one more time and an agent with a half-chewed bite of something takes your call. You tell him exactly what happened and exactly where you are and... nothing.

Your next call is to your brother.

Fast forward to some indefinite point in the near or distant future.

You need to have alternatives when Captain Smith is in the shower.

Farzana Rasool, journalist, ITWeb

You come home from a long day at work and find that your favourite pair of jeans has been stolen off the washing line. The injustice that crime brings into people's lives frustrates you.

And so you decide to call police commissioner Bheki Cele, because you can. After all, he wouldn't have given you his cellphone number if he didn't want you to call, would he?

And there you have it, SA's latest 360-degree turn.

From a point of no access and assistance, the ministry of police now wants to give citizens direct access to top brass at their local police stations, along with the cellphone numbers of national police officials.

This will all be neatly compiled in a national directory of generals' cellphone numbers that will be made available to the public.

The effort deserves an A+, but the logic needs more work.

It's great to have access to officials in your area so you can contact them directly in the time of crisis, instead of having to wait endlessly on a call to the 10111 centre, which may amount to nothing anyway.

But there are some buts.

The ministry of police says the 10111 centres have large volumes of prank calls. What makes them think the same idiots that call an emergency line to joke around, won't do the same to police officers?

And the question of the abuse these direct lines will encounter does not end with prank callers.

What happens when the old woman armed with the minister of police's cellphone number keeps thinking the cat she doesn't have is stolen? Or when the man with rowdy neighbours is absolutely sure they must be up to something illegal, because “people are always in and out of their residence”?

People will believe their issues are legitimate and require investigation. What's worse is that they will think it's a matter large enough to be dealt with by a top official who has to answer his cellphone. (Or does he? That's a whole other matter.)

Another but comes in when we think about a contact book overload.

The whole point of establishing a single national emergency number, 112, was so people had to remember just one number, and call it for any trouble they may have.

With this new strategy of handing out personal cellphone numbers of police officials, how many do you need to save and keep with you?

You need to have alternatives when Captain Smith is in the shower or when Sergeant Buthelezi is on vacation.

Also, what happens the day you have a crisis, but aren't in your area of residence?

The plan is a good one as an additional service by the police force, but not as a replacement of emergency call centres.

Face it, 10111 needs to be in working order. There's no getting around that. Changing the number to 112, or giving us your cellphone numbers instead just isn't going to work.

Dear Bheki Cele, we greatly appreciate the gesture, but please just get the agents being paid taxpayers' money to answer calls at 10111 to do so. It would also be nice if they could remember to do something about the calls they receive once they replace the handset.