Haru Mutasa

Race against time under Nigeria's curfews

It's an odd feeling - living with a curfew.

I am in Kano, in northern Nigeria. After protests over the removal of fuel subsidies turned violent, officials here declared a curfew from dawn to dusk.

That means you have no business being on the street during those hours.

So here we are (me and the colleagues I work with) trying to finish up some filming, we have a live crossing to do, an interview with a minister in an hour, and them somehow have to dash back to the safety of our hotel.

It was a nightmare, but we make it just in time.

My problems are minor compared to those who actually live here. I am just passing through.

I went to the market in Kano, one of them anyway, and saw people trying to make a living.

A butcher complained about the rise in prices of basic commodities and how the market is very quiet since the curfew was imposed.

Everywhere I go someone tells me how quiet things are in Kano.

To strike, or not to strike

It’s Friday morning in Johannesburg and I‘m ready for a long day. I’m wearing my running shoes, an old pair of jeans and a dark green jacket. A scarf works as an accessory as well as something to protect me from tear gas should the municipal worker’s strike I am covering gets violent.

The striking municipal workers said they’d be at the venue – a park in Johannesburg – at 9am. It’s now 10am and not a red shirt in sight. Red is the colour of their t-shirts.

Eventually, a few trickle in. They want an 18 per cent salary increase, but government is only offering six. The plan, according to workers, is to march through the CBD and bring Johannesburg to a standstill.

Can Ouattara be a leader of the people?

Alassane Ouattara state of the nation address on Thursday promised a new start for the country –  with banks and hospitals reopening and improved security - it would take more than resumption of normal services to signal a return to normal life to heal the country's wounds.

Ouattara also called on his forces to restore order in the main city of Abidjan, where roaming militia have been engaged in looting and random attacks.

Nightmare checkpoints on the road to Abidjan

The town of Bassam is less than 30km from Abidjan, Cote d'Ivoire's commercial capital.

Very close to the heart of the fighting, it's relatively easy to reach by road but hard to leave.

The police station is deserted - the front gate torn open, doors bashed in and not a person in sight.

After last week's attack the police fled, we are told.

You don't notice it at first but eventually you realise there are no soldiers or policemen here.

A few metres away is the first menacing-looking checkpoint.

Young men have blocked the highway with tyres, rocks, branches from trees – basically anything they can use.

My heart skips a beat as I try to stay calm. There are five of us in the car - two women and three men.

The strategy is if we are asked any questions the men must speak.