So Someone Just Tried to Mug Me
Thursday, March 13th, 2008I was in downtown Johannesburg (granted not the “safest” place in South Africa) this afternoon and looking around for the shared taxi I needed to get back to the town I’m staying in. I thought I knew where I was going, but apparently not.
And, well, I knew I stuck out there (this was my second time through the area today and I’d only seen two non-black folk…and one actually turned out to be an albino black man) but didn’t think too much of it.
Until, waiting to cross the street, I heard someone yell, “Hey, you!” from behind me and grab my left arm. OK, I’m used to verbal harassment, but people here really don’t touch strangers…so before I even looked, I knew this guy was trouble.
“Give me your mobile, or I’ll take your bag.”
“I don’t have a mobile.”
“Don’t make me take that bag of yours. Just give me your mobile and you can keep the bag.”
“Really, I don’t have one.”
“Just give me your phone. I know you have one.”
“Really. I don’t have a phone on me. I’m not from this country. Why would I have a mobile?”
“Don’t make me take your bag. Just give me…”
And I stepped onto the street and opened the door of a shared taxi waiting to make a turn. I had no idea where it was going, but clearly that was OK at the time. It was a good choice…the driver (and two fellow passengers) helped me find what I needed and didn’t even charge me anything.
As I sat in the proper taxi, I couldn’t help but think how ridiculous of me it was to not feel scared during the run-in in the city. I mean, I was practically (and may have actually been, knowing me) laughing at the guy and his friend who’d tried to corner me in. But seriously. I didn’t have a phone. And I had only about 20 rand (less than $3) on me. I felt little danger without a weapon shoved in my back. But then I remembered the South African man whose friend’s friend was just killed when he was hit over the head for not having money when he was held up. Yeah…the thought-ridden ride home more disturbing than the actual (failed) mugging.
Yet…I’m OK. All’s well. I’m back “home” safe and sound. And blogging about the past.





