Someone is walking in my shoes
THERE’S someone dressed like me and who smells like I do. They’re most likely using a recently-unblocked cellphone – which once rested in my pocket – to chat to friends, bragging about the bargain they just scored.
A cellphone I won a few years ago during the Vodacom Journalist of the Year awards. The memory card, packed with three years worth of memories, will be erased in mere minutes and replaced with someone else’s.
There’s someone enjoying the same MacBook I’ve written countless scripts on during long work trips, and spent many late nights and early mornings on, cutting interviews for features we’ve produced. And when they’re done, they’ll probably be slipping it into the same black backpack – once filled with random journalism essentials – which has travelled with me to places where basic cellphone signal is a luxury.
It’s been an essential part of my kit, an extension of my body, even. Just about anything I needed – from a toothpick to a gimbal – lived in that bag. The backpack and its variety of goodies have been a source of support and comfort during the many trips away from home, when we’ve travelled to areas some have never heard of to tell stories about the average South African.
And, once again, we were doing just that – telling real-life stories – in a rural part of Eshowe when someone decided they needed what we owned more than we did.
With the exception of the electronics, clothes and cologne, many of the stolen items were relatively cheap.
But, nevertheless, they were mine.
By South African standards, the theft is minor and certainly not unique. I know this very well. Maybe a little too well – since being held at knife-point at 4, my family, friends and I have repeatedly experienced serious crime first-hand over the years.
And I’m sure you have, too. Or at least know someone who has.
In 2018, it’s a rare privilege to have not seen the effects of crime, lost a loved one or parted with your hard-earned belongings.
But this is not a tale of the haves and the have-nots. Crime is an equaliser and knows no creed or colour.
Whether it’s someone with a R20 000 laptop or one with a R100 cellphone he can’t afford to immediately replace, the bottom line is the same – it’s being taken for a reason.
So, no, this column is not just abut losing material things which, in time, are mostly replaceable.
It’s not about the enormous inconvenience and frustration.
It’s not a comparison and it’s not about how much worse the next person has had it.
It’s about how we collectively support crime and keep criminals safe.
It’s about how, in seconds, your rights to privacy and safety are violated and you’re expected to find comfort in “at least nothing happened to you”.
But something did happen to you.
Your personal items just became part of a criminal’s stock. Your most basic constitutional rights were trampled on. Your well-being was affected.
And all this to feed someone else’s greed. Make no mistake, stolen goods are a form of currency with a very high exchange rate.
People like you and I are the ones who keep it performing better than the rand ever will against the dollar.
The criminals are not only the ones with guns, not always the people we judge based only on their appearance.
They are our mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters and friends who want to save a quick buck.
The ones who turn a blind eye when their “unemployed” neighbour drives home in a new luxury car every month.
Someone, somewhere, always knows something. But will they tell you?
To quote a tweet directed at me in response to a request for information on our missing items – “we are not snitches bra. Askies, but we can’t help you.”
NOTE: Three days after the robbery, a laptop and a few items of clothes were recovered by police. The suspect got away. The bulk of our items are still missing.