Karma and scissor muggings

My boyfriend and I were mugged on Monday, by two young men (probably only 19) wielding a pair of kitchen scissors as their weapon. The evening was a beautiful haze of soft light, and as we walked along the slow-moving river, we were marvelling at the beauty of nature and feeling completely at peace. It was so lovely to think that we could go for an early evening walk and not fear for our lives the way those Joburgers do. Unfortunately, this bliss was short-lived. But this dear readers was only part of a broader cycle of karmic flow, which due to my own actions dictated that something bad should happen to me. Not disastrously, life-threateningly bad, but enough to shake me up and remind me that you should always be trying to do better.

You see, earlier on in our walk we had come across a lady walking on crutches with her two daughters. She stopped us, and asked for money, but we said no. For no real reason but we were on our walk, and in the middle of conversation and simply couldn’t be bothered to stop. After we had seen her we continued walking and started talking about the reasons that sometimes we give money and sometimes we don’t, how we make justifications to ourselves to give to some people and not to others so that we can sleep at night. This lady was not drunk, she was not obviously high, she was just a lady asking for money, probably to get a lift home. I mean, walking home on crutches cannot be pleasant. We had R70 on us to pick up groceries on our way back home, but that was much more than we needed. So we were feeling decidedly bad about being so selfish. After all, being able to make a political stand about giving to some people and not to others is nothing more than hiding the fact that you don’t want to give, even though you are in a position to. At least in most cases.

It was not long after this that we were mugged. Two young men, one large pair of scissors at my boyfriend’s neck. All he had were his keys. All I had was my R70 and my cellphone. They basically frisked us, took our things and left. I even asked for my SIM card which was given to me. The scissor-wielder tried to touch my boob at which point I pushed him hard without thinking. He then sort of looked at me with a confused expression and pushed my boyfriend making some inane verbal threat like “F**k you man, f**k this, I’ll take your stuff. Give the money”. And then they left, not even at a run. At a sort of less jiggly fast walk, and were gone.

We stood their dazed for a few seconds and then ran for the nearest exit. Now two foolish young men had the money that could have helped that lady get home, and the weight of our inaction was tangible.

We labelled it the most boring mugging of the century. But it was so powerful because it stole the idea from us that we were safe. We had convinced ourselves that we could be part of the world, and enjoy our rights, without being fearful of others. And now, we were wrong. On the way home we had to pass under a bridge and as another man walked towards us, and shook his arm we both tensed up, uncertain of what would happen next. All he was doing was checking his watch.

So, apart from being short R70 and a cellphone, I feel like something big has been taken from me. I feel unsure in the world that I had created with my heart. It is most unsettling.

(By the way, the Liesbeeck Park trail is truly beautiful, and worth a visit if you have a taser or pepper spray).