A bit late, but it was stuck in my mailbox’s spam queueueue: a firsthand account of what it’s like to be stuck in a police kettle.
And then twenty minutes in, we realised we couldn’t get out. We walked up to a couple of cordons and asked nicely. The police told us they weren’t allowed to let anyone out, wouldn’t say why and that we’d be released when the organisers declared the demo over, but they didn’t know when that was. We were directed to another cordon which would let us through. Which sent us straight into the middle of two cordons where we both had the personal privilege of being shoved by the police. I was starting to regret having Hannah with me. A, perhaps more honest, policeman told us that it was policy to send people seeking to leave to the next cordon, and the next, etc.
We wandered around fruitlessly looking for an exit. There were a lot of people like us and the police were having to explain over and over again that they weren’t allowed to let anyone out. Some people who were trying to get back to work, to doctor’s appointments, etc., got upset with the police, who responded in a very calm manner. Plods don’t get paid enough to do this shit.
[…]
Later on I went to the peaceful sounding Climate Camp up the road on Bishopsgate to detox. It was very relaxed, there was a communal kitchen and it was all good. Until the riot police penned everyone in. I lied my way through the cordon and managed to pull an office worker out with me.
I am still upset. I feel my right to peaceful protest has been abrogated. The whole thing was so bizarre and unnecessary. I go round and round in my head and I can’t make sense of the police tactics in detaining peaceful protesters for hours without food or water or toilet facilities.
From my perch I overheard a man saying to a police officer, “I wasn’t angry when I came here, but I am now.”