This one is for my Mother.
Monday, July 30, 2007
“Thief!”
I go to the window of the MACO office that faces into the alley to see what the shouting is about as I see people run by the window. The shouting is angry, and one of the people who runs by is a Muzungo with a Canada patch on his backpack strap. As I poke my head through the bars that cover virtually all windows in Zambia I see that a considerable crowd is moving down the alley to catch up with the fast runners who I had heard and seen out my window.
Shouts of “Thief!” and, “It’s a thief!” are clearly audible now and I can pick out the man in the crowd who is the alleged thief. A police officer is amongst the crowd and wields his billy-club in attempts to control the periodic altercations that erupt between the crowd and the “thief”. The muzungo recounts his story while the “thief” denies it was him. The crowd moves back down the alley towards my window. As it approaches I can hear the dull slapping noises as members of the crowd bring their open palms down hard on the “thief’s” head despite the officer’s attempts to control the crowd. At least those slaps are more an insult than the rocks that are hurled.
Do you frown upon this situation because of the bodily harm that can be incurred from a mob at a mere accusation? Or do you admire Zambians’ sense of community that a cry of “thief!” results in everyone dropping what they are doing to put the situation right – even if the victim is a foreigner.
In either case, as volunteers overseas, or even as a tourist, one has to be careful that one doesn’t yell “thief!” after someone who has stolen something worth less than potentially a person’s life.
Shouts of “Thief!” and, “It’s a thief!” are clearly audible now and I can pick out the man in the crowd who is the alleged thief. A police officer is amongst the crowd and wields his billy-club in attempts to control the periodic altercations that erupt between the crowd and the “thief”. The muzungo recounts his story while the “thief” denies it was him. The crowd moves back down the alley towards my window. As it approaches I can hear the dull slapping noises as members of the crowd bring their open palms down hard on the “thief’s” head despite the officer’s attempts to control the crowd. At least those slaps are more an insult than the rocks that are hurled.
Do you frown upon this situation because of the bodily harm that can be incurred from a mob at a mere accusation? Or do you admire Zambians’ sense of community that a cry of “thief!” results in everyone dropping what they are doing to put the situation right – even if the victim is a foreigner.
In either case, as volunteers overseas, or even as a tourist, one has to be careful that one doesn’t yell “thief!” after someone who has stolen something worth less than potentially a person’s life.
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