At 2pm about five months ago I stopped my car outside my house on the pavement, where I’d parked for some 27 years, switched off the engine, but remained in the car. I’d seen an Uber-type vehicle heading in my direction and, thinking it was our cottage-dweller arriving home and knowing she likes being met at the gate (nervous about crime and all that), I decided to wait for her.
A man in a brown overall half-wearing a balaclava on his head and carrying a pistol appeared at the front passenger window, open due to the heat. (Old car; no air conditioning.) “I want your watch,” he said. I hesitated – due to surprise more than anything – and he continued: “I’ll shoot you, give me your watch.” So I did.
A second armed man appeared at my (the driver’s) window and man no. 1 said, “Take his wallet and phone and car keys.” They were visible to no. 1 in the driver’s door “cubbyhole”. Then in a very Seffrican turn of events, I unthinkingly expostulated, “Oh for fxxk’s sake, my driver’s licence is in there …” and man no. 2, without even looking into the wallet (it could have had R10 000 inside though it didn’t), threw it back into the car. Just business, you understand; I was wearing a watch they wanted; other than that, they didn’t really want to discomfort a fellow Seffrican.
Not an unusual story, I’d guess. Also not unusual, I’d say, was that for months afterwards I re-lived the event, going through various scenarios in my head. What if I’d been as brave (or foolish?) as my learned colleague David Bullard – who in 2007 chased some burglars out off his house, getting shot into the bargain – by saying No to the man with the gun? Would he have shot me? What if I’d left my engine running – and simply sped off when the robbers stopped? And so on.
Additionally, alas, one’s thoughts inevitably turn personal and self-pitying – “Why me, Lord?” – and one’s feelings of vulnerability come to the fore, especially if there’re other reasons for feeling vulnerable (age, illness, whatever). But, of course, it’s completely pointless to beat yourself up. If a guy has a gun – it’s game over. Full stop. Period.
One thing, though. One does understand what’s happened. You’re another Seffrican who’s been robbed. Suck it up. It’s what you pay for the good weather, for wearing an expensive watch in a country where others are poor, for living in a country where the police force is mostly disinterested or allegedly busy with bigger fish, etc. Or if you’re politically correct or Woke, you might even think it’s the price you must pay for having been born a whitey here, etc. We all know the litany; shan’t bore you.