I like to think of myself as an aficionado of
all things counter-intuitive. From the books I read to the music I listen to, to even the
company I keep. I pride myself in thinking different and thinking for myself.
My Christian beliefs help me to aim in order to achieve, the impossible, seeing
as “with God nothing shall be impossible” as Luke 1v27 states. I
believe in love as the sole (soul) purpose of human beings and
anything done in love and for love will succeed. I love laughter, both
administering it and sharing in it. I believe that in some way or the other,
big or small, I will contribute to changing the world. Maybe through the poems,
raps or articles that I write or maybe just from being “that guy that thinks
differently”. #GodGotMe
In the spirit of being different and
constantly striving for the impossible, I took an opportunity to blog on behalf
of Natalie as she was taking a vacation.
The chance appeared to be an
opportunity for me to express a side of myself that I would not normally
express on my own blog. Perhaps still too afraid of the ever piercing eyes of
my small circle of readers. Basically, I wanted to be me, but a different me,
the me that I know I am but am too scared to share with people who think they
have an entire idea of me.
Because of this freedom, to be me,
to express myself to a readership that doesn’t know me and won’t
judge me correctly, or incorrectly, for this freedom, I thank Natalie.
Here it is....
On the 7th of August 2013, I was robbed on my way
back from school at approximately 18h00, not only of my material possessions,
but of the dreams I had invested in those possessions. Robbed of the good that
I was planning to do for the very same “type” of people that robbed me. That’s
what hurt me the most.
I stay in Joburg and I study in Pretoria, Tshwane University
of Technology to be precise. I am studying Quantity Surveying. In my final
year. So you can just imagine the inconvenience of losing all of your academic
paraphernalia when you are so close to the finish. To make matters worse, I had
digitised all my work, course material and goals on to my iPad, which the thugs
that got me called a “laptop” when they realised they had left me with
something of value.
I lost my iPad with not only my school material on it, but
also my music, my raps, my poems and my communicator. I lost my life source.
Opening the docket at the police station the following day, I realised that I
had been walking around Marabastad all this time with goods over the value of
R10 000, including the shoes they took off of my feet. The ironic thing is
this: contained within my bag, other than the academic stuff and the money and
the phone etc., there was a book called “How To Worry Less About Money” which I
hope they are curious enough to read. It’s a good book and I think it will help
them…to worry less about money.
Needless to say, I was pretty cut up about the loss and went
Facebook that night, cursed out everyone involved and then slept like an
unhappy child. The following day, I found myself taking note of the people who
were more concerned with the value of goods I lost against the people who were
relieved I was still alive. The ones relieved where outweighed by the ones
upset about my loss.
After a long period of mourning, in an epiphany, I realised
something: I was still alive. I was still alive. I looked in the mirror and saw
myself, without an iPad yeah, but still in one piece.
6 nyaope high boys lifted me off of the street after a day
of education, choked me to a point of submission and made me give away what I
valued most in my life, even after a prolonged scuffle…but I was still alive.
No stab wounds, no scars, no iPad, but still in the same packaging God sent me
here in. I saw this as a miracle. I still do. I could have been dead. But I’m
not. The next natural question for me was “why am I not dead?”…
I’m here for a reason is the reason I have now to live. I
may not know it, I may not understand it, but I believe that through a gracious
supernatural act expressed through the kindness of the drug boys that robbed
me, I am still alive.
And because I understand kindness to be “unmerited favour”,
I want to express my gratitude to the thugs that robbed me. Thanking you for
taking my stuff and not taking my life. Thank you for sparing me when you
didn’t have to. More importantly, thank you for showing me what to value most
in life: life itself.
I hope that I can return to Marabastad soon and give them
all some cookies. Just to say thank you. I strongly believe in showing
gratitude in acknowledgement of kindness exhibited.
I am currently working on a poem with the same title as this
blog post “Cookies For Thugs”.
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