Release him! release him! The crowd surged forward, striking the air with closed fists. A hand grabbed my shoulder and thrust me rudely into the heart of the mob,

“Shoot them, shoot boy” someone was yelling. Those nearby caught on, screaming, “Shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot…” We were pressed close, unable to maneuver. Then I saw Mauricio, glasses askew, in a choke hold being dragged towards a car.

I panicked, dropped the switch to full automatic and fired blindly.

It was my first assignment, covering a small protest against forced removals, the demolition of Favela do Metro and other communities in the vicinity of the Fifa World Cup and Olympic Games sites.

The day began with carioca calm, cheese pastries and sugar cane juice, gossip and jokes as the crowd slowly assembled in their own time. They arrived in twos and threes from all corners of the city. From Rocinha…