Whole New Meaning to “Black Friday”

December 2nd, 2011
10:02am

Happy Belated Turkey Day! Gobble Gobble! Although turkeys would be considered an endangered species in Swaziland, and you can not find one in any of the grocery stores, I feasted on Thanksgiving! Like last year, all of the volunteer’s were in town for the annual All Volunteer Conference. I had been in Mbabane for a few days before that helping with the Group 8’s In-Service Training and seeing off two of the most wonderful volunteers who sadly had to go back to the States. All of the work and emotions that went into the first days of the week transformed into a fantastic, joyous celebration at the Ambassador’s house for a day of gratitude and thanksgiving. Some of the PC staff even found some turkeys in South Africa! I don’t know who won the Lion’s game, or which floats were best in the Macy’s parade, but I had a blast with the Americans in Swaziland.

The following day, “Black Friday”, was going to be my day to travel back to site. Before I left the capital, I had to run a few errands. One of them was to visit the Mozambique Embassy to get a visa for a trip we’re planning for January. The Embassy is about a 15-20minute walk outside of the center of Mbabane, just off one of the largest, most travelled roads in Swaziland. Two trips were made, once to drop off the passports, and the second to bring back a receipt from the bank deposit. During the second trip there we got cat calls from a group of guys working at a scrap metal drop off site. We decided to walk on the other side of the road on the way back into town to avoid our admirers.

Just before reaching that point on our trip back two guys grabbed the purse that Ali was carrying on her shoulder. They ripped the shoulder straps right off and yelled “F#@K YOU B$T#@ES!”. Then they ran across the street into bushes that covered the side of the hill running down from the street. That purse held both mine and Ali’s phones, wallets, passports, and my planner! We instantly started yelling “Inyandzaleyo!”, which is like yelling “HELP!!!”, and flagged down a khumbi and white car that was just came around the corner. The driver and passenger jumped out of the khumbi, men from the side of the road jumped over the guard rail, and about 5 men from the scrap metal place started running down the hill after them while about 5 others stayed where they were to watch the assailants from the higher vantage point and guide those who were in pursuit. Where we were stand up on the sidewalk we couldn’t see anything. The white vehicle that stopped behind the khumbi happened to be an off duty police officer! We were told to stay with him. The guys kept yelling something that at the time I heard as “Meat! Meat!”, but realized later was the same word as “Black! Black!”, because the one of the guys was wearing a black top and black shorts. The police officer than transported us to the Swaziland Water Corporation (or something like that), which was located at the bottom of the hill. There, he ran into the woods and two guys from that business jumped on motor bikes to track down the thieves. Again, we were told not to go anywhere and wait. We had no idea if they were caught or not.

My concept of time during this surreal event is anything but accurate. So, after some time a mob of men came with the thief that was wearing all black… and our purse! The police officer then asked if there was one or two guys. We confirmed that there were two guys, and the other was wearing red shorts. Many of the men reacted to this statement. Supposedly, during the chase the thief wearing red shorts told the others that he was also in pursuit of the one in black. Unbeknownst to us at the time was the fact that many of the chasers knew those being chased, because they were all from the same area. This deceit really angered everyone.

With our purse back, we instantly called our Safety and Security Officer from Peace Corps. What really rattled our nerves and continues to be the worst part of this experience is what happened next. Until that day I had never seen mob justice first hand, and I never wish to again. They started beating the thief. We screamed for them to stop. We were laughed at by the crowd that was witnessing the punishment. After not eliciting any change or support, we had to retreat behind a small building. Out of site, but not far enough to be out of earshot, we had to listen to it until Babe came. We believe at one point a stick was used.

Babe came and we ran for his vehicle begging, like children, for him to stop the crowd. We got in the back seats of his truck, and shut the doors to shut out the sounds. Much later we discussed this happening. In our observations, corporal punishment is very present. I once asked my family about the difference between abuse and punishment. They said that to hit with your hand is abuse, but to hit with an appropriately sized swatch (the older the child the wider the stick) is okay. We also discussed the fact that Swazis do not have faith in their prison system. One man at the scene, when we told them we’d rather have him go to jail than be beaten, said that he will just walk right out of jail and do the same thing tomorrow. Another factor might have been the reoccurrence of robberies around the area. Not on the main road, mind you, not many robberies happen at 12:30pm on a super frequented road, but on the dirt road to the Water Services building some Make’s had also had their purses stolen. This could have been the community punishing the perpetrator or sending a message to the others.

Babe took us to the police station, but was flagged down just after getting on the main road. They found the guy wearing red shorts. I guess they don’t have bars in a police vehicle like we do in America, because they threw him in the trunk. When we arrived we met with multiple police officers, including the off duty officer, and the Security officer from the American Embassy. They took both of our statements, though they stopped our statement at the point the mob came up with the apprehended boy. I tried to asked in a very roundabout way, whether we should continue to include the arrival of our Security Officer and the apprehension of the boy in red shorts. I took the cue from our Security Officer and dropped the subject. Later, he said that those incidents would never show up in official documentation, especially since the off-duty officer was present. He stated that the mob justice would have probably been much worse without him there, which I think was an attempt to quench the rising anger and rebellion I was feeling toward one of our recent saviors. The full story was to be reported in is official Peace Corps report. I dropped it. The police decided that they wanted to try to get the thieves on trial as soon as possible. This could have had something to do with the PC and embassy reps with us, or the fact that I mentioned how far away I lived. Probably the first time in Swaziland’s history, the trail was held on the same day at 4:30pm in conjunction with an already scheduled trial for fraud. Another move occurred, this time to the Magistrate’s Court where we were met by our Country Director.

They brought the guys, which now that we were close to them we realized they were just boys at 19 years old, to the court. We were asked to sit outside the room until we were called in. Since they both plead guilty we were never called in to testify. Their punishment was either to pay a large sum of money right there, which they couldn’t, or go to jail for 10 months. Being only a few feet away from the boys that just tried to rob you and are thus sentenced to 10 months behind bars is the most awkward, uncomfortable feeling ever. I just pray that they learn from this ordeal, and they are not affected in a negative way in the prison.

Our country director drove us from the court straight to her house, insisting that we should eat at her house (we hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast) because our previous plan to order a pizza would take hours. After being well fed she took us to the backpackers that we spent the night at. It was an exhausting day and we quickly crashed; I got to return home the next morning.

Now those of you who are now more insistent on me jumping on a plane and coming home because of this situation, I have to bring your attention to a few facts. One is that these were two boys pumped up on adolescent stupidity and adrenaline enacting a classic grab-and-run, NOT armed or dangerous. This could have happened anywhere in the world. We were instantly assisted by a TON of people, which I doubt would have happened in Detroit, Chicago, New York or any other American city. I’m FINE and will continue to be so because of smart and safe choices I make while in Swaziland.


*** I apologize if there are major grammatical or spelling errors in this post because Laura is coming up to my house NOWNOW! We are painting letters, numbers, shapes, colors, etc on the preschool in my community today!