Edinburgh, Scotland

“Where poverty persists there is no true freedom” Nelson Mandela

“He’s been beaten badly by at least ten policemen…. disgusting comments…do you want to make poverty history?” Alan Sheriff

The night is not yet dark as we stand in the street, two ex-schoolboys interviewing a horde of florescent-jacketed policemen, businesslike even as they restrain a raging drunk in full view of the public. We appear self-sure and professional and one could never tell that we were teenagers taking a five-minute breather from clubbing. The camera pans as Alan conducts the first interview, the constables confused by our photographic interest in their job.

Alan’s commentary, juxposed by moving sirens and muffled curses gives our own twisted insight into that night. He is the star of our two-man news show, our equipment nothing more than a camera phone and two nice shirts, our mission to report on the G8 march in Edinburgh.

Before that, before we sat eating oranges with Sondra and watched one hundred thousand people march by, and before that I was travelling. Sitting on the train, backpack straps dangling above like synthetic creepers I thought of girls, parties and protesting.

Harry calls me on the train, the ring tone irritating and electronic as I dig it out of my pocket and listen to his far away voice,
‘Hey Tom, look I’m sorry but I’ve left town and am heading home.” I groan, deprived of not only company but also a bed “Give this number a ring and speak to Alan, he can give you a place to stay”

Before that I was hunched in front of my computer reading the following:

“On Saturday 2 July, as leaders of the worlds richest countries gather in Scotland for the G8 summit, tens of thousands of campaigners will rally in Edinburgh city centre to send this message to the G8 leaders:
Enough is enough. We want trade justice, Debt cancellation, and more and better aid for the world’s poorest countries.
Be there. Make your voice heard.
MAKE HISTORY in 2005
MAKE POVERTY HISTORY”

Twelve hours after that I am in Edinburgh, beer in hand and sitting on a sofa overlooking the police blockade surrounding Scottish Parliament, chatting to Harry’s friend Alan. Tomorrow is the march and at this late stage my plan is thus: Wake up sometime before ten, put on a white tee-shirt (required) and join more than a hundred thousand people on the streets.