Self Justice

I was burgled in November. A guy walked into my house and stole laptops and a cell phone! On his way out he greeted my domestic helper. With the domestic helper screaming, I was running outside, but could see nobody. Then I drove around for an hour, but nothing of course! Never mind the stolen goods, but the violation of my private home made me mad with anger! What if any of us surprised him and accidentally cut him off from his escape route? After two days I phoned repeatedly to get the investigating officer to the scene, so that he could have a look at video clips. He could not come because he had no vehicle to get there! Short time later I read in the newspaper that the police guys have a R100 (US$13) allowance airtime to do their necessary phone calls to investigate. No wonder I had to follow up myself!

This morning I heard a motorist had lost a cell phone in a smash’n’grab! He followed the thief and shot him dead! The police says he will be charged with murder (if they find him), but I say WELL DONE! I SALUTE YOU!! That November morning I was HIM! No gun or anything. With bare hands and blunt claws it would have been much uglier! I hope this creates a domino effect across the country with self justice incidents. Only THEN will it be a wakeup call loud enough!

The townships already have their kangaroo courts, and the police are too afraid to interfere! Now civil society has come down to a basic rawness because there is no functioning justice system. Let this be a lesson for the politicians. 2010 is coming up, and I want to see an Olympic effort to do something with the crime, police and justice system. Maybe some time in the future we won’t need kangaroo courts and self justice anymore! When I think about it, I would have been shocked and not saluted the guy, had it been in Norway.

Robbed!

Hell, my life is so fucking exciting these days I can make 3 full sasons of high quality TV entertainment! It would be a mix between Prison Break, CSI and Days of our lives. It would KO anything else on TV! The fact is that half the excitement could kill you due to alarmingly high blood pressure.

I am so fucking worked up and angry right now! Somebody got into our property this morning and stole 3 laptops and a cellphone. Somehow they have managed to open the gate and get in. Next step was to choose one of the 3 units, which happened to be ours in the back. This happened at 06.45 in the morning whilst we are walking around inside the house getting ready for school and work.

My wife is sitting outside on the patio having a smoke, then goes to the bathroom to get ready. At the same time my 10 year old daughter notices a black man looking in through the window, obviously scouting and looking for an opportunity. Next door he has already passed the office window and seen our laptops. My daughter calls the maid; “Somebody is looking for you Martha”, alternatively thinking it could be a new garden boy. She then runs upstairs to change into her school uniform. Meanwhile the thief takes the opportunity to walk in through the patio, the kitchen, the lounge and into the study for the loot. On the way out he meets the maid in the kitchen, greets her nicely “hello”, and walks out. Martha was shocked, and before any of us knew it, he was gone. A brand new red Golf GTI was seen parked outside the gate 30-45min earlier.

Money and material goods are replacable. What else could have happened is more alarming. The guy was brave enough to go inside in daylight when people are walking around inside the house. What if somebody surprised him properly and blocked his escape route? How far would he have gone to get away?! Very far I’m afraid judging from the stories I hear in this country! When you take such a risk, you must be prepared for all possibilities. I am quite convinced he had a gun or knife, in case! I am happy we did not loose any family members today. I’d say we were fortunate despite the incident! A thief like that, I would not mind killing 10 times if inside my house!

3 times now during a year in South Africa I’ve been robbed. The 2 last months has been a bloody wild west! I actually miss my “civilized” home country where a burglary is national news in all the media. People are generally nice there! You don’t have to watch your back every second of the day and barricade yourself inside your own house. I am SO bloody sick and tired, frustrated and angry.

The complete and utter hatred and anger is hard to handle right now! I don’t know where to direct it. I miss this thief’s face as a punching bag. I have shouted, screamed and yelled at everybody around me, family and police included for petty little things. I feel sorry for my family having to deal with me right now, but the police properly deserved it all!! They arrived 1 hour 15 minutes after the incident… which is late enough… then after 3 hours the police arrives again not knowing somebody had already been there to open a docket. Worse still is that upset as we were the police lady started shouting at me because she had to wait at the gate… The intercom didn’t work, but it didn’t strike her that it could have been tampered with by the thief. Besides we did not expect any more police by that time, and they had our phone number to get in. Second time she went on about the intercom I exploded right in her face, shouted and swore at her and threw them out – kicked out the police!

I am ready to kill the next unfamiliar face I see inside my house in a gruesome manner unless they’ve made an appointment with me for a very good reason. Better safe than sorry and no questions asked! The policeman that came later in the day for fingerprints gave me advice… off the record I assume it must have been. “You can kill the thief inside your own house. But make sure he is dead, because otherwise he will come for you. You must do it properly!” I’m taking one step back and thinking, this guy is a policeman… I level with the guy though! So far, I’ve been concerned with prevention and keeping the tsotsi’s away. When that’s useless, then you better think of ways to annihilate efficiently any threat to your family!

At some point it gets serious, and you gotta stop joking about Crossbows and harpoon guns and get down to business like your intruder. I am happy nobody was killed today. Next time we’ll flip in around and make sure only a miracle can save the intruders life! A permit and whatever it takes is an insignificant hurdle!

I wish the whole world could be advised to stay away and not fuck with my family! Unfortunately the whole world is not reading this blog, and it’s not especially targeted at the rogue segment of the population either! Maybe I must make an example of the next uninvited guest. I’m reading about the early Africa explorers facing tribes who put their enemies’ heads on poles outside the village! Moulay Ismail, a self proclaimed sultan in Morocco, was given hundreds of sets of ears as a trophy from his son. Because of the extreme heat and stink, only the ears were kept as trophy. The Sultan was very content! His intention was to send them as grim reminders to chieftains suspected of rebellion. However, the trophies pleased him so much he decided to keep them for himself. Eventually the ears were strung on cords and hung up along the city walls. That’s a clear message!

In India, the British colonial power placed gibbets on the roadside to display bodies of executed thugs. This happened as late as the 1860’s to stop the infamous system of Thuggee. I’m in a former colony too… the wild west lawless feeling is striking, and how civilized are we here in the darkest African continent really? Beating around the bush is a sign of weakness. Maybe I just have to be raw, beyond any intruder’s imagination and expectation and use some proven methods!

Can anybody recommend a good weapon for me please? Not a pussy thing, but one that can do the job and preferably finish it with one bullet?! I’ve been in the army, and among the 4 best shooters in my platoon, so I’m confident that the quality of the job is purely up to the weapon of choice. Dirty Harry had a very good point; “As I am holding a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and can easily clean your head off the body, you gotta ask yourself a question. Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya punk?!” I am thinking an automatic would be better and enabling me to shoot short series of 3-5 bullets at the time. Given these specifications I am listening to advice and suggestions.

We have just recovered after our “friend” looted our account of 11 grand. Now, we are down again with an estimated 45 grand! Equally important was the contents on the laptops, and now I’m chiseling blogposts into rocks in lack of my dearest laptop. Who knows how soon we’ll be online again? By the time I get this typed and ready for publishing I will read it again and probably think the tone is too harsh or extreme and start altering. I know myself that well. A good trick for me has always been to hold back e-mails until I cool down. After a few hours or next day the e-mail is revised and kosher for the right person to read. This time I won’t let that happen though. I want it left authentic like it was written in the heat of everything!

Falling down

Did you ever see that movie “Falling down” with Michael Douglas? It's one of my favorite movies. He is stuck in bumper to bumper traffic in burning heat, very much ala Joburg, with a packed up aircon. He freaks out and leaves the car in the middle of traffic… and on his way he turns all his anger and frustrations against annoying stubborn people, narcotic dealers, a serial killer and his soon to be ex wife to mention a few. Things are basically going down down down…

I could always relate to this movie, although Norway seldom get blistering hot like that. Christmas shopping though comes very close. December is a cold month where you need to dress up with thick warm clothes. Shops are not in malls like here in South Africa… you walk on the streets and go in and out of the shops. The shops are of course packed with people who are desperate to find that last minute gift, like me. Out on the street you are dressed to cope with the 20 degrees below zero (Celsius), and then you enter the warm and overcrowded shop that easily holds 30 degrees. Often times I’ve thought about that movie in such situation when the sweat is running, and the panic attack is lurking seconds away. Then you get a sharp elbow from another desperate guy, and that’s when you wish that you had that gun (like Douglas in that fast food joint) to fire up in the air to get some attention and advance in the queue. Christmas shopping in Norway is risky!!

Except from the regular Christmas shopping experiences, I have only experienced such a rise (or drop) in temperature except for one year that we went to South Africa on vacation. From a nail biting dry 30 degrees below in Norway we arrived in Durban with 35 degrees and humidity that can be bottled. 65 degrees difference! We collapsed and stayed horizontal for two whole days before we could start our relaxing and soothing holiday.

Our mindset was of course set on holiday and relaxation, whilst Christmas shopping makes you determined and desperate to get that gift come hell or high water! You are focused on one thing only. Your increased blood pressure, irritation and any energy building up inside, caused by the sudden heat, will be directed at your fellow shoppers around and towards your goal. A sharp elbow to the ribs on the left and some foul words to the guy on your right… it will of course make your advance quicker so that you can get that damn gift! You are rewarded with a happy ending/merry Christmas… and you’re not falling down! It teaches you that next year; you can even put in a rugby tackle to plow your way through the crowd, and still make merry toasts in eggnog and cognac!

I did however have a close to falling down experience lately. I had taken the whole day off to clean out of our old apartment, and my father in law was helping. Two guys cleaning… or two cocks in the henhouse. Martha, our maid, had cleaned everything. Even the kitchen cupboards on regular occasions, but that’s blog material for later. Indians use a lot of oil in their cooking… and with my critical eye upon moving out I found where the evaporated oil ends up… under the kitchen cupboards!! Eventually I had to go to builder’s warehouse and buy one of these scrapes that you put poly filler with. Amount wise I scraped off enough oil for a few curries… but thoroughly vaccinated against curry for months! Bloody tripe and trotters&beans or whatnot!! Bent backwards on the kitchen bench, scraping and scrubbing and cleaning, I was working up a good sweat!

By the time we had finished I was tired, stinking of sweat… my back was aching, hungry and starting to get short tempered. Then my wife calls to tell me that I have to go and pick up my brother in law at the airport. It’s about 5 o’clock and the worst Joburg traffic has already set in. Bumper to bumper we are hardly moving… and my tummy is growling. In normal speed I can do that stretch blindfolded… but now we are barely moving forward and not paying much attention to my navigational landmarks and signs. Suddenly the off ramp is there, so we change lane in a hurry. We force our way through only to realize that this is unfamiliar territory. It was one off ramp too early, and this is when my father in law takes charge.
He knew Joburg inside out at one time… but a lot has happened since those days. For some reason if one of us wants to go in one direction, it’s a constitution of nature that the other one wants to go opposite or somewhere else. We simply cannot agree on the shortest or the best way to Rome. If I’m taking one way, then it must be a better way to get there. Although questioning some of his orders, I obey… Some times he is in familiar territory and spot on, whilst other times I should have followed my own instincts. I have yet to figure out when to trust his or my own instincts as he is always equally certain and convincing. All of this is subject to some friction, but not a huge deal since it is short trips for most of the time. In the rush traffic though, it is apparent that a wrong turnoff now can cause hours of detour. I am really not in the mood for this!

Driving and arguing now, we miss a couple of opportunities to get back on track… and lost. I am boiling inside now and ignoring a stop sign. It’s at a bend, not a junction even, so it’s a stupid f**king sign. Then the cops pull me over… &#%@! I harness my temper enough to smile and talk politely to the policeman. “License and registration please”; he demands, just like in the movies. “Oh… you’re a foreigner?”; he says. “Big problem!”. I’m laughing inside myself now… problems can “go away” in Africa I’ve been told, but restrain myself from making any suggestions.

It is procedure that foreigners have to be brought in to the station… The “problem” grows even bigger in my mind, as the police station is not the right place for my planned bribe. The fine is R500. Well and good, just write me the ticket I’m thinking… then I’ll pay the damn thing… one of the days and at my convenience. “On the spot, right now”; he demands! I’m taking out my Visa card ready to swipe... “Cash only”! “How the bloody hell can you expect me to have cash in my pocket”; I’m thinking for myself! What if I started swearing at him there earlier and accumulated a few more fines whilst I was at it? R2.000 cash on the spot also, how likely is it that you got that in your pocket?! My face is answer enough for the guy. “I have to lock you up then. It’s procedure!”. I’m sick and tired of general procedures by now… Although in a more civilized African country, prison does not tempt me very much! I bet they pack up that Stop-sign when they’ve collected enough money for the day anyway… This is the moment when Michael Douglas would fire that shotgun and demand a bit of flexibility! I’m unarmed though, thank god! Mom taught me to count to 10 as a toddler when my lego building f**ked up, then try again with a fresh mind. 1, 2, 3… then another cop joins in a very authoritative manner, like a reinforcement it appears. "Are they mind readers or what?"

Out of desperation I manage to reason with the guys though… and they allow me to send the credit card with my father in law so that he can draw cash to bail me out! As I’m waiting for him to return with my bail, I’m wondering whether I should be happy to have him there now… or angry about the initial detour?! The first detour was honestly my own fault… and besides, I would be behind bars now if it wasn’t for him. I love my father in law! Sanity is coming back to me in a brief moment of forced meditation.

It’s very quiet in the car on the last leg to the airport, and no more detours. A 40 minutes trip took us 2,5 hours. As we enter the arrivals terminal, my brother in law comes walking out casually. His plane was delayed, and just landed, but he was luxuriously pampered in the executive lounge in DRC. No need to worry! 1, 2, 3…. 41, 42, 43! Christmas is just around the corner now...