I hate nothing more than a criminal
I am always surprised by people who make a big scene when they witness a crime or know of someone, or who are themselves, a victim of it.
We live in a country that has one of the highest crime rates in the world.
Why are we surprised when people are murdered, raped, killed and robbed?
Should we honestly really be that shocked and expect any less?
On Friday night, I drove on Great North Road and turned left into Louise Street.
The street is poorly illuminated and I drove at a slow speed to the red robot.
About 50m before it, I saw the figure of a person standing next to the passenger side of a white car.
I flashed the car lights and illuminated a man seconds before he smashed the window and snatched what seemed to be a handbag.
The bastard ran across the road at the speed of lightning.
All I could do was mouth the harshest swear words.
Seconds after the smash-and-grab the driver of the white car sped through a red robot and came to rest on the shoulder of Atlas Road.
I was about to stop and check if the occupant/s were okay, but before I knew it, they had driven off.
Another motorist ventured toward the open veld where the assailant had run off.
I left the scene immediately, but cursed myself all the way to Pretoria.
Was I suppose to do something?
How can something like that happen before my eyes?
I became the person who complained about crime although I knew it always existed.
The reality is that you only truly understand the effects of crime or feel enraged by it when it hits close to home, or in my case, right before my eyes.
The lesson I took from this was to be even more careful in this beautiful, yet unsafe country of ours and to have greater hate for the bastards who prey on innocent people to commit their heinous crimes. KvdL
