I couldn’t believe what I read. I couldn’t believe what I saw.
Here, in our town, people (if you can call someone who does that a human being) cut of dogs heads (while still alive) and cooked their meat to eat or sell.
Here! In my town!
I was sick to my stomach.
We were asked to protest at their bail hearing. So many people said that they would be there. Well, I wonder where those people were when we were outside the court for hours in the cold. It is SO easy to be a Facebook animal lover. Not so much when push comes to shove. Then so many people have excuses.
A handful of us though stood there, protesting. Got the cars to hoot. Shared our thoughts and feelings.
I picked up the boys and took them to protest with us. Children who care. What a nation we can build if all of them did.
If you are in town, well come protest at their hearing 23 July. Might be even colder then but someone has to take a stand.
This is getting old now. Third phone stolen in the last year. Second one that I bought back.
I am sure my mom had a small heart seizure when she received a phone call from “Zander” and on the other side was a man she did not know, calling her “Ouma”.
Apparently he picked up the phone next to the road (where there is no way it could be!) and now wants to return the phone for reward. Lekker business that. They get to walk out as the good guy, with money in hand.
Anyway, he asked for a reward. I thought of giving him a Bible. Maybe I should have….
Zander has his phone back.
Can’t say all is well because he doesn’t feel safe now. He feels like he doesn’t know who to trust now.
Pity I can’t buy that back
Look, I know all countries have their own issues. However, when news make you laugh, you must know something is not right.
We all know about the Gupta wedding scandal and them landing at Waterkloof Air force Base. We all knew from the start that Zuma had something to do with it. That is not what made me laugh. What made me laugh is when they “admitted” that he was Number One. The one who made the calls. The one who authorized it all. They said from the beginning that Number One gave the green flag. Now they say that it is the code name for our president! WTF? Really? Who would have thought lol Don’t they think anyone with more than one working brain cell could work that out?
Then on a sad, horrible and disgusting note in the same paper, they talk about the mother and father who got 18 years in prison for raping and murdering their 10 month old baby girl. They did not get life in prison because …. wait for it … the court feels their other children have the right to be raised by their biological parents!!!! huh? They could get parole in 9 years if I’m correct? This means their youngest child will be 10. Is this really what they want?
Some days I wonder why I read the news
You know you are really really sick, when you are a victim of crime and don’t even mention it.
I’m thankful for my SIL, Maggie, who did all the phoning to block the phone and then found out I could do an early upgrade. I do love her.
So without even thinking (as in at all) I went to get my new phone, pick up medication and go home.
The phone was stolen out of Tommie’s bakkie (that I never drive) in my mom’s driveway. SO frustrating!!! Yes, it was almost time for me to upgrade anyway but my phone was perfectly fine. Gosh, except that it was a S2, it was still brand-new. My kids could have had it.
I have little tags with my kids’ names and birthdates dangling from my phone. I got it when Quintus was born and just added the other two. It’s been on every single phone I’ve owned. Now that is lost. I’m so upset about that.
The last month’s photos I took is not backed up. Scanned documents now lost.
I got the S4 and maybe today I will up to playing with it a bit…..
You know you live in South Africa when….
… Well picture this
Kids are playing in the house. You are sitting outside with friends. Your neighbour’s house alarm goes off and after a minute or two it is still going strong. So you phone your neighbour (who is on leave in the Cape) and he had yet to get a call from the security company. You tell him that while he calls them, you will walk around to check it out.
The men walk over to their house, the women still outside chatting. Men come back home and says that someone had broken into the neighbour’s home.
” is someone still in the house? Did they steal anything?” After a “no” and “it doesn’t look like it”, you just continue your conversion.
Men leave to wait for security company. Women, still outside chatting.
This is when you know you are desensitized. Pretty crime means nothing.
Less then 50 meters from where we sat, they broke in through the window. We would have been able to see them if we looked up.
Still, it is nothing to get worked up about. Obviously we didn’t phone the police. Just secured the home as much as we could. Reset the alarm.
Its sad when things like this is just an every day thing. Like watching someone skip the stop street. You barely register.
You can do anything in South Africa. Especially if you have a tracker program on your cell phone!
Quintus’s phone was “missing” since last week Wednesday. He kept on saying though that it is in Ouma’s car. He had it with him after choir practice and still phoned our housekeeper from it. He didn’t take it out when he came home. No problem. Since he didn’t need it at that stage, I wasn’t really worried.
Saturday I told him that we should really start looking for the phone but since we had friends over, we didn’t worry too much about it.
Sunday we really started looking. Couldn’t find it anywhere. Ouma looked in the car, in my office, in their home. No phone. We look under beds, in the car, cupboards EVERY where. No phone.
Monday morning, while waiting for Tommie at oncology, I go through my phone and remember the program I put on Quintus’ phone. Family tracker. So that I can trace him, should anything ever happen.
I put it on and there it is. His phone was in Jouberton!!! (township) And it WAS in Ouma’s car. I could see where and when she went to have her hair done. Where she travelled to watch Jason play rugby. Where it was at home in her car and then in Jouberton.
URGH. I could trace it to the house and our garden boy offered to buy it back. He said he should be able to buy it back for R150.
Well he did. Phone now back (without the sim and memory card) but the phone is back in our possession.
Eish….here you can steal and be rewarded within days. Not bad.
My heart is sore.
I am angry.
I feel helpless.
I cannot heal a broken, ripped-to-pieces heart.
I cannot turn back time.
I cannot bring back her son.
Last night they murdered him for his money and a cellphone.
They took his life. They took her son. They changed her world forever.
Last night they murdered my mom’s domestic worker’s son.
They stabbed him and left him to bleed to death.
They ripped a mother’s heart out and left it to bleed.
It is senseless.
Just another murder in our torn country.
It will be just another file on a policeman’s desk.
To her, it was her child. Her flesh and blood.
My heart is so sore for her.
I am so sorry Sophie.
I’m not a politician. I don’t care about politics.
I’m a mom. A woman.
From the very day my three little boys were born, I had a duty to protect them. A duty to protect myself. Every child needs a mother.
I feel I can’t do that any more.
I go to bed at night petrified.
I wake up thankful that I’m alive but petrified of what lies ahead.
I am afraid of being woken up at night, with someone standing next to my bed.
I’m afraid of my children having to see me get raped.
I’m afraid of my children – children who have nothing to do with apartheid – being murder.
When I watch news, I’m petrified.
When I see how our ruling party’s youth league leader speaks and acts, I’m petrified.
When I see his hate for white people, I’m petrified.
When I listen to the way he speaks to international press, I’m petrified.
When he says that land reform in Zimbabwe was a success and the militant way it was handled was correct, I’m petrified.
When young children get raped and murdered, I’m petrified.
When the first 3 pages of newspaper every single day are covered in articles of murder and rape, I’m petrified.
I am petrified.
I’m a mother and I am petrified.
I don’t want to be here.
I love this country. I love all it’s good people. I love the cultures. I love our scenery. I love our weather. I love this country. My country.
I don’t want to be here.
It’s fifteen years later but the words, the emotion, as though it happened yesterday.
Fourteen days before his tenth birthday a little boy was murdered. Murdered for his bicycle. He ran away in fear but the bastards they ran after him, hit him from behind on his neck and threw him into the river to drown.
They took the bicycle, sold it for R30 (less than $4) and used the money to buy booze.
They felt that a helpless 9 year old boy’s life was worth R30.
I saw his father today and maybe because Quintus is just 9, it hit me more but I cannot stop the tears. I cannot. I cannot stop putting myself in the dad’s shoes. I cannot help thinking what I would do if it were MY son.
Fifteen years later and his dad is still a broken man. That little boy still dead. Those men free.
I had tears in my eyes as I read the letter.
He has lost his freedom. Sitting next to the river. Watching out over a mountain. Hearing the waves break on the beach.
He has lost his twin daughters. He has lost everything. Not his life.
He didn’t murder anyone. He didn’t rape anyone. He didn’t abuse or high-jack.
He evaded tax. He stole from the state. He changed his books so that he didn’t have to pay tax. He had a small business, so we aren’t talking millions here either.
Was it wrong? HELL YES! Was it bad enough for him to sit 15 years? FIFTEEN YEARS!? I don’t know about that.
In another jail sits another man. A murderer. He took someone’s life. Something he could never repay. By murdering another human, not only did he murder and destroy so many lives but he too stole from the state since the victim would most probably have been a tax payer.
He got 5 years. FIVE.
How is that right? How is that fair?
People just don’t care anymore. They just don’t want to get involved!
I had to meet my parents next to the road (they are on their way to the Argus and forgot something at home). As I drove past a cafe I notice a overloaded bakkie and trailer drive past, see a man fall and the bakkie keep on going. I accelerated and stopped in front of the bakkie. I saw my parents coming my way and since I wasn’t sure that it was THIS bakkie that had hit the man, I drove up to my folks and gave them the stuff.
I did turn around and drove back to the man. There he was, lying in the road with only one man standing by him. That was the man he was talking to when the trailer hit him. He wasn’t trying to help the man, just standing there! I knelt by the old man, took all I could and tried to access the damage. For the life of me I couldn’t think of the police number (when you use your mobile phone). I was sitting in the road with this man and nothing to protect us from oncoming traffic. I couldn’t move him as I wasn’t sure of his injuries. Blood was pouring out of the back of his head and he his entire forehead was covered in blood and most of the skin off (as in not just the first layer)
At first he wasn’t responsive and that was a worry. Thankfully the metro police drove past and decided to stop. They got out and I asked them to phone the ambulance. They got back into their car, called the ambulance and didn’t get out again! No help from them. Eventually I got the man to give me his address (he couldn’t remember the phone number) and someone went to get his wife.
The driver of the bakkie did pitch up after a while and I told him to call his boss. I could see that he was freaked out. I felt that his boss was just as much to blame for allowing the trailer to be that overloaded. He most probably stood by as they were doing so!
As soon as he got there, I could gather from the body language that the driver was trying to say the old man was standing IN the road when he hit him! He was NOT!!! He was right by his car! His body broke off the side mirror! I told them both that much and also that the trailer is overloaded. They cannot drive like that. Within seconds they both disappeared. I did notice though and got a towtruck to stop the bakkie from driving off. This he did.
Eventually the police and ambulance arrived. I gave my statement, saw the old man to the ambulance and left.
I will phone later to hear how he is doing. That poor poor old man.
I hate the crime in our country. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it.
Last night my mom’s gardenboy was stabbed for no proper reason.
He was walking home from his sister’s house (who works for me) to his own, when some random fuckwit decided he looks like a good victim.
Apparently some words were exchanged and when John walked away, this fuckwit decided to take out his knife and stab him. Twice.
Did the ambulance come when they were phoned? No.
Has the police been there? No.
Did they help him immediately in the ER. No.
He is so badly injured that they needed to put a tube in to drain blood and fluid from his lungs but they let him sit in the ER for hours before helping him.
Now he is in one of our horrible state hospitals. We can only hope and pray that he doesn’t get an infection while he is there.
I took this on Tuesday.
This is scary. There is a blond woman who just this week tried to abduct three children. Three children from three different preschools in our town. Our little town!
Thank goodness the teachers manage to stop her. Every time.
What does the police do? NOTHING This is on camera! They do nothing!? Why
any normal thinking person would ask? Because she hasn’t technically done anything wrong yet.
WTF!? Must she first abduct, abuse or sell a child before they are willing to step in!?
Even at Jay’s Grade R classes they have stepped up the security.
Obviously I have given the stranger and do-not-go-with-anyone talk again.
All day long.
I share so easily. Good or bad. I open up my world to the world. Not just an open window but big open sliding doors. Yet I feel I cannot share my current situation. Not all of it.
What I can say is that I feel intimidated. I feel scared. I feel violated. I am hugely upset yet I have realized that I am not capable of showing that emotion. I can be so proper on the outside. I think admitting to that makes me feel vulnerable (that’s for another post though)
I am totally unsure as to how to handle this situation as it seems that once again our Police isn’t willing to step up and do anything.
Don’t worry. Nothing has happened – yet. I have just been ‘threatened’. Uggles uggles words and a bit of a threat.
When I took that very first pregnancy test … hoping, hoping for a postive test, I thought of a baby. Beautiful tiny little baby child. I read many many magizines. I joined message boards on the internet. I googled every single possible detail. I felt completely prepared by the time my first son was born. And I was. I wasn’t the typical first time mom. I was totally prepared.
The baby magazines only go till the age of 3 though. When they take that first big move out of home and to pre-school. This is when I realized that no matter how much you prepare yourself for baby and toddler time..those go by real quick. Real quick.
Now I find myself
bored endlessly sitting in the car. A lot. No one…not one magazine, not the doctor who handled the birth or the lactation consultant bothered to tell me that in the end…eventually…I will be the taxi mom. Not one of them!
If they had I would have prepared myself. Done research. Saved more for fuel. Worked out time schedules ahead of time. Figured out which snacks can last in the car for longer than 2 days. How to get the trash out of the car in record time.
I spend a lot of time in that car. Waiting for my kids. I even do homework with Quintus there, when Jason has golf lessons.
I used to roll my eyes at the ‘mom’ cars when I was in school. Especially when it had the “Mom’s taxi” sticker on it. Who knew. Now I’m just a taxi mom too.
Then this happens: (more…)
As we were driving home from work yesterday, it started raining. I turned down the music and told the boys just how much I love rain. How rain seems to be an instant lift. No anti-depressant comes near it. That rain just makes me happy.
Quintus replies (with a laugh) ” Yeah, I love rain too. Love it. It keeps me safe. The bad guys don’t like getting wet”
Mmmmm…..not quite what I meant big boy.
Jason seriously has a way to freak me out. To get me to tears in seconds. To make my heart break into a million little pieces just by his fear. More than that though…he doesn’t seem to be afraid. It’s more a kind of acceptance and THAT makes it even worse for me.
He gave me these two photos of him (from when he started preschool and the last week of preschool) and told me to keep them. So that I can remember him.
“Of course I will always remember you. You are in my heart and I have zillions of photos of you”
“No Mom. This is so that you don’t forget me when I die.”
“Baby, hopefully you will live long long long after Mommy isn’t here anymore”
“No. This is for when the bad guys have killed me”
This is not the first time he has mentioned dying young and dying at the hands of criminals. I have explained to him all that we do to keep him safe that he doesn’t have to worry. That we are doing our absolute best to keep all of us safe. We have alarms, panic buttons, big dog, big dad, burglar bars, firearms. We do all that we can. Yet he still believes what he believes.
Like I said though…the worst is that he isn’t scared. It’s a kind of acceptance.
On our way home today I asked Quintus to get out and buy us milk at the local cafe. He was taking his sweet time and I was getting impatient. Two other people had walked in and out after he went in but still he didn’t come out. I saw him get the milk out of the fridge, so I knew he had to be finished.
I waited and then got worked up as I was sure the cashier wasn’t helping him. That’s why it’s taking so long. However when I walked in he was busy looking at the chocolates. I told him to move right one, we are all waiting for him.
He got into the car and said “All I wanted to do was buy you a chocolate to say thank you for all that you do for us. I was trying to find a chocolate that I could buy with the change”
Oh my goodness!!! I felt SO bad and so blessed at the same time. This is the nicest thing someone has done for me in a long long time. Yet I felt SO bad for getting upset with him when all he wanted to do was spoil me. Do something nice for me.
Just writing this makes me feel horrible all over again. He is such a special child and I never want him to stop being so caring, so thoughtful. I told him many many many times I bad I felt and how I appreciate his thought. Worst of all is that he had the chocolate in his hand. He had just found the one that he could buy with the change when I walked into the cafe and told him to move his butt to the car.
I feel so guilty. So bad. I hope he knows just how I appreciate his thought. I did write him a letter tonight that I put next to his bed.
Our municipal workers are striking. Lovely. Yes, I believe they have a right to do this. I feel they get paid peanuts and if I were them I would most probably strike too. Would I act like a hooligan in public? I don’t think. Would I intimidate others? I don’t think so. Would I take part in a strike that has been continuing forever. That has caused death? No. Definitely not.
They are really starting to piss me off. Strike if you want to. Stay of work for a day or so. Holy crap the world is standing still!!!! I work with government departments quite a bit. I cannot help my own clients because other people are striking. Because those who aren’t striking are striking at work. We can get nothing done. The standard answer is that there is no-one in the office to help.
So yes. While they have the freedom to strike, we don’t have the freedom to work.
We live in a little town. We work and live in a little quiet suburb. The kids go to a little quiet school. Freedom? My 7 year old son goes to school where they have security guards and the gates get locked as soon as school starts. You have to push buzzers to get into school. The teachers are supposed to strike and those who don’t, get threatened. Where is that free?
I have been planning on visiting two of my best friends on Saturday. I have been counting the days like a child. Now apparently those who have the right to freely be assholes and criminals are stopping me from going. As I understand there will be riots on the highway. They plan on using stones and the occasional bullet to bring everything to a standstill. There goes my freedom to visit my friends and since death is never sexy and Wenchy says that she doesn’t feel like going to my funeral this week I will rather not go.
Yeah. Free country my ass.
Our government has just changed the law to include ana.l penatratio.n into the description of r.ape. BUT only if you are a woman. HUH? So sorry if you are a man and are being forced with an.al penatratio.n because that will not be seen as rape. Oh word. At least we are on step closer right?
It’s been in our news lately that a music promoter has been accused of s.exual ab.use and ra.pe by nine of one countries female artists. Of the more well-known artists at it. The one woman won a civil case of ra.pe against him. I don’t think nine women will all be lying about this.
His reaction? He says that he doesn’t understand that what he did was wrong? That he doesn’t get how putting his hand down a woman’s pants is wrong. He was just showing his friendship. What? How can men not see that it is wrong?
Probably like my ab.user accusing me of making a “Huisgenoot” story (local gossip magazine) out of my abu.se.
The worst to me is that two of our country’s most famous male artists feel sorry for him!! For him! This guy, who’s music I really like and my kids love feels sorry for his ‘friend’. This one says that his ‘friend’ is going through a really tough time. Ag siestog.
Why is it that
people men always assume that the woman is making it up? HUH? Who would make something like that up? You must really be a few steps away from the loony bin if you do that. I mean really. This guy has already been convicted of r.ape.
I suppose I will just never get men. It is totally fucked up that they see the man as innocent till proven guilty. I suppose that makes the woman guilty till proven innocent.
Here’s something I don’t understand. Why is R.obert M.ugabe still alive? Why has no-one taken this guy out?
I’m sure everyone is aware of just how shocking things are in Z1mbabwe. If you don’t maybe you shouldn’t try to find out more. You will not be able to sleep well at night.
I don’t understand why he is allowed to rule. Why he is allowed to continue murdering and torturing people the way he is? What he is doing is just not right and yet the world is allowing this to happen.
I have always thought that he must be only a hair away from being an ape. Only someone who has no idea of right and wrong can do what he does. Then again even animals don’t turn on their species the way he does. I always thought that somewhere in his crazy mind he must have believed that what he is right. That what he is doing is for the good of his country. But he doesn’t!!!! Even he knows that he is wrong. He knows that he will be prosecuted if he steps down as president. Even he knows that he can only continue doing what he is as long as he is president. That stepping down will be the end of his life. Either completely or as he knows it.
The way he tortures people are unbelievable. Inhuman. Cutting of ears. Ripping of testicles. Beatings. Putting people in cement and throwing them into rivers. Raping. They (his party) have no regard for anything. Not themselves. Their country. Human life.
I just don’t get. Why won’t someone just take him out? He is a oxygen thieve.
My brother lives in Louis Trichardt / Makhado. Since their police force is unwilling to be police and protect the community, the community has started their own patrol service. Each man gets a certain amount of hours that he patrols an area. All the households who are part of this have radios so that they can contact each other in case of emergency.
Yesterday they were following up on a stolen car call. They were all out looking for the vehicle when they heard what they thought to be a child screaming on the radio. They were getting frustrated at this naughty child as he/she was holding up the radio signal and they couldn’t communicate with each other.
It turned out though that it wasn’t a child. It was one of their members, a woman, who was screaming as she was being murdered. As she was being stabbed to death by people who have no absolutely no regard for human life. They had first stabbed her dogs to death and that might be when she started screaming. Unfortunately she was so scared that she just screamed…held the button and screamed and never identified herself so that they knew where to go.
My heart is gripped with fear, with regret, with sorrow. I’m sick. Literally sick. I can’t even imagine what my brother must feel like. Having held that radio in his hands. Hearing that woman’s frantic screams…knowing that she died while looking for help.
Fuck this country. Fuck our government. Fuck all the fuckwits who care nothing for human life.
No need for them to search any more. They found the little girl’s body last night. I can’t even imagine what her parents must be going through. Her dad is still stuck in hospital and one can only hope that he will be able to at least attend her funeral.
I have entered for a 10 km race that will be held on the 24th of March. Crazy I know. Although I’m pretty confident that I’ll be able to finish the race without passing out. I’m dragging my whole family to a town about 2 hours away just to run in a race that will take me just over an hour lol I am like that though. I need to have a goal to work towards or I might just give up. I am hoping to be able to do a half-marathon by the end of the year. One can only live in hope right!