On October 15th 1995, at about 9:30 PM, that I heard a “snap” from the kitchen. I was in the living room, talking to my dad having his dinner at the coffee table. The sound from the kitchen preceded an event I never thought I’d face in my life. I was about to experience a home invasion, and the resulting fallout would alter my life forever.
Thapson
It was a warm October evening, and I’d had my dinner. I was lounging in the living room watching some news program on TV. I forget what exactly what it was about. But after 26 years, my mind has finally moved on done its job of healing my unpleasant experience.
Unremarkable Evening
It was an unremarkable evening, like any other. My wife had left Botswana to visit her parents, and I was counting the weeks to joining her there. I was set to take my vacation from my teaching job at the Government Institute teaching civil servants Information Technology, in December. Things were pretty quiet at home, almost boring.
My dad, in his customary self, sauntered in for his dinner after 9:30 to join me. Again, I forget what we were discussing. Most likely mundane current affairs. My younger sister was the third person in the house. She was pottering away in her bedroom, with the cats most likely. Then came that sound.
Unwelcome Guests
During my conversation, and between our words, I distinctly heard the “snap” sound from the kitchen. For a second, I wondered what it was, but was so engrossed in conversation, decided to forego the temptation to investigate. It would be big mistake, and it was likely too late anyway. My sister had been tutoring a young girl living in the back quarters. This resulted in a frequent traffic in and out through the back door contributing to my letting down my guard.
Then it happened. Suddenly two, then three, four, and eventually seven disheveled men quickly walked into the dining room behind my dad. They had gotten in through the kitchen. The scenario was bizarre and I thought it was extremely rude of them to barge in like this.
This was a robbery
Their urgency and this rushed entry had me convinced there was an emergency of sorts and they needed our assistance. Then I noticed they were all carrying sticks. My dad turned around to see where I was staring, and questioned them angrily.
But they were in full flow and had the element of surprise. They quickly moved around him and held his arms. Two others rushed over and grabbed me. I had an immediate sinking feeling realizing this was a robbery. We were looking at a gang of seven who’ve broken in and now had me and my dad in their control.
It was the most helpless feeling being held like that. Although mostly armed with tree branches, some of them brandished knives, with one also displaying a pistol which I suspect was a toy. But I wasn’t taking any chances.
Money, where’s your money?
I was furious with myself! We had an alarm system, but we hadn’t activated it. I realized that the snapping I heard earlier was the bolt on the kitchen storm door being opened. The panic button was visible just a few feet away. I could make a dash for it and set it off. It would have been a dangerous gamble. Also seeing my dad, diagnosed with cancer, held like that was frustrating and sad. Even if I managed to set off the alarm, they could likely harm us seriously before help arrived – especially my dad.
They were pretty jumpy too, so any quick moves on our part was risky. Then they started with their demands. “Money, where’s your money?” they asked. “There’s no cash here,“ said my dad. We kept limited cash at home. But they were adamant.
The Ransacking
Held by four of them, the rest started ransacking the house. One of them brought my dad’s briefcase and wanted the keys. Before he could respond, they knifed it open and found the limited cash he kept at home. My sister screamed as they barged into her room.
It was surreal scenario as while this was in progress, cars were driving by normally outside oblivious to our predicament. I wished some friend would drop by. No such luck.
We weren’t physically assaulted, yet. I noticed they were not Motswana. True to popular belief, these men were all likely illegals from Zimbabwe. By ten o clock, they had done all the ransacking. They led the three of us to the room at the end of the house, and after locking us in, disappeared into the night.
After the Ordeal
Dramatic Representation
We waited to confirm they had left. I, out of frustration, tried to climb out of the window above the door – an impossible feat. I peeked through the keyhole, but there was no key. We opened the window and started yelling for help at the quarters at the back.
People came out, and entered our house, surprised by the developments. One of their keys fit the lock and we were free again.
The house was a complete mess with things scattered all over. They had made off with a whole lot of stuff including money, the VCR, a boombox, my watch, clothing, and stuff with strong sentimental value for me.
People from the neighborhood walked around the strewn property as we called the police. Once the police arrived, the crowd dispersed. We’ll continue with this story in Part 2.
Part 2 of 2
A Home Invasion and the Resulting Fallout (2 of 2)
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