Enough is Enough?

Last week, I went with a group from my office to protest crime in South Africa at The Million Man March. The turnout wasn’t quite as impressive as the title suggests – the news reported a meager four thousand activists – but we gathered outside of Pretoria’s Union buildings and listened to a few speeches, intermittently chanting “Enough is Enough!” Our purpose was to tell the South African government that we are sick of living in fear. We are tired of being victims, of losing loved ones to violent crime. We’re no longer going to passively sit back and complain about crime; we are ready to take action. Enough is enough.

Okay, so in all fairness, I admit that I can’t write about living in fear quite as convincingly as a real South African. After all, I’ve only lived in Joburg a little over a year and fortunately, I have not yet been directly affected by crime in this Big Bad City. That’s not to say I haven’t been affected at all. Back in November, I explained that living in Joburg has taught me to be more aware of the world around me. It has also taught me to accept gates, guards, electric fences, and laser beams as the norm. The fact that I live in a fortress doesn’t seem weird to me anymore, because everyone lives in a fortress. Drive down any residential street in and around Joburg and you won’t see a single house. Rooftops maybe, but the eight-foot fences topped with crackling electric wires will prevent you from seeing the houses themselves.

Sometimes I think crime, or the fear of it, prevents us from seeing each other too. We move through each day with our heads down, our eyes distant. The walls around our houses are nothing compared to the walls we’ve built around our hearts. We’re suspicious of strangers; we assume the worst about those around us. We don’t see each other as individuals; hell, sometimes we don’t see each other at all. We barely notice the men and women begging for change or selling random wares at traffic lights. Maybe we felt sympathy for them once-upon-a-time, but now we don’t even see them, or if we do see them it is with suspicious eyes. After all, what is stopping them from breaking your car window and lifting your purse? Or using a weapon to force you out of the car? Aren’t these the very people potentially breaking into your home and taking your things, taking your life? Why should we feel sympathy for them? Aren’t they the enemy?

Every day on my way to work, I see a guy at the intersection of Jan Smuts and William Nicol selling little bags of dried fruit and nuts. He wears a bright smile and a neon vest with the words “I DON’T DO CRIME” stamped across the front. He’s a fixture at this particular intersection, but I admit that I barely notice him anymore. I remember when I first encountered him though, he really pulled at my heartstrings. There was a part of me compelled to buy his cashews as a way of encouraging his honest lifestyle. But then there was another part of me that would think, “Why should I buy his dodgy fruit simply because he’s not a criminal? Why should he be rewarded for obeying the same rules as the rest of us?” Sadly, I don’t think much of anything about him anymore, but I still understand why he wears that vest. He is pointing out – in a not-so-subtle way – that he’s not stealing; he’s not even begging. He may be annoying – knocking on the window and shoving his dried mangos in my face – but what he is trying to do is positive.

Now, at another intersection – further up the street – is a guy with a different sign. And this dude isn’t selling anything. His sign reads: “Hungry boy, too scared to do crime. Please help.” To say that I feel no sympathy for this young man would be untrue, however his sign invokes a very different reaction than that of his fruit and nut selling counterpart. I feel absolutely no desire to roll down my window and hand over my change. It’s something about the sign: “Too scared to do crime.” To me, that means that he has no problem with stealing, but he’s afraid he’ll be shot or end up in jail, so instead, would I please hand over my money willingly? After all, he is asking nicely…

Is it just me? Or would that irritate you too? Who knows…maybe I’m wrong. Maybe he is morally averse to crime and the problem lies in his copywriting skills. Or maybe I just have far too much time think about it while I wait for that damn traffic light to change.

And speaking of signs, at yet another traffic light is my favorite - a comedian whose sign reads: “My cat arrested for eating neighbor’s chicken. Need money for bail.” I know. But it makes me laugh, so he gets my change almost every time...

I’m not sure how any of this this ties back to the Million Man March. Maybe it doesn’t…but we can’t honestly talk about crime without also considering poverty. Because I have to believe that most criminals aren’t motivated by malice; they’re acting out of desperation, and desperation is everywhere in this city. You only have to take a drive down Jan Smuts Avenue and experience the beggars and hawkers at every street corner to see that. Are these the criminals? Or could this be their last stop before resorting to crime?

I don’t have any answers, and I doubt my chanting will do much to persuade the government to take a tougher stance on crime, but it still felt good to do something proactive, to stand up amongst the million – okay, four thousand – and say “Enough is enough.” Now, if only the criminals running the government would listen…