Monday, March 17, 2008

Forced Aid to the Needy, a.k.a. Armed Robbery in Arusha

What follows is merely a snapshot account of what happened last Friday night. I lack the motivation and skill to paint a more embellished picture:

Who can say for sure how long they were there, or how long they actually took trying to get in. The first thud I remember being cognizant of was an almost imperceptible point on the horizon of my mind’s sleepy eye. The second tapped against my consciousness, but it took the third crack to fully awaken and alert me to trouble. The fourth and final bang, which was accompanied immediately afterwards by a very loud explosion (in retrospect: dynamite… a gun… fireworks?), was the sound of my front door finally succumbing to violent force and crashing open. I am uncertain of the length the time between my awareness of my circumstances and when my robbers finally entered my bedroom, but I can approximate it by counting the number of times I screamed "help" at the top of my lungs (five I recall). These cries were my only pathetic and thoroughly futile attempts to openly obstruct or deter my assailants.

Flashes of that night, momentary images are mostly all I remember. Three men enter and immediately begin scuffling between themselves, I assume, over how to deal with us. Gunpowder in our noses, flashlights in our faces, and beyond them fragmented views of flashing machetes. The men shout at us: "WE WILL KILL YOU! WE WILL KILL YOU! WE WILL KILL YOUR WIFE!" I am frozen terror as I decide whether staying in bed or getting out will improve our situation. "GET OUT! SHOW US YOUR MONEY! THE MONEY!"

The Money! I imagine my voice sounded as eager as eager as theirs as I searched with desperate hands for some hidden treasure to satisfy them. Three pairs of bulging eyes meet mine, a machete separates me from the closest of them. Our combined soundtrack probably sounded Disneyesque with its farcically maniacal exclamations:

Robber 1: "The Money!"
Robber 2: "Yes, the money now!"
Me: [whilst searching] "Yes, yes money money money!"
Robber 1: "You have lots of money, give us your US money!"
Me: "No, we have little money! Here is the money, lots of money, plenty of money!"
Robber 3: "There is more money! Where is the other money!"
Me: "No, no more money! Computer! Here, take the computer!"

Approximately one month before President George W. Bush had left Tanzania bequeathing it $700 million in aid. Pronounced Bush (I'm quoting), "I'll just put it bluntly, America doesn't want to spend money on people who steal the money from the people." Friday night I managed to increase my own donation to a country of destitutes (specifically 4-8 machete-wielding destitutes) by several hundred dollars and a laptop, the latter of which doesn’t really count because it was going to be donated anyway, albeit legitimately and benevolently.

I have never before personally experienced the physical trembling the cartoons always parody, but after their voices quickly receded into the nighttime darkness I could hardly put on my clothes because my hands were shaking so violently. We cautiously made our way from the guesthouse where we stay to our host family's house. I knocked on the Janet and Jo’s bedroom window. "Hey, Jo and Janet, are you there?" I whispered loudly.
"Chris, is that you?"
"Yes, we just got robbed!"
"Yes, us too!"

If I believed in the God worshiped by mainstream religions I would thank Him that all these men wanted was money and that no one was harmed. These facts did not however ease my nerves over the weekend. On Saturday night Sarah and I stayed up all night in the living room watching TV and periodically peering out windows and conjuring up make-believe intruders from the sounds of the night. Sunday night was spent at Backpacker’s Hotel in town.

What now? Well, weld the double-door bolts (check), buy padlocks for all the doors that still remain without them (check), perhaps also remember to use these padlocks in the future (check?). Buy an alarm system for neighbors to fearfully ignore again, or the police to take 30 minutes to get there? Rent a guard to man the ten-foot wall that surrounds us and protect us from half a dozen armed robbers? At what point does the security reach a point where it deters a unit of would-be murderers who will climb walls, smash windows and annihilate doors (that is, seemingly stop at nothing) to get what they want? At what price and with what annoyances to daily life can peace of mind be bought? Where does one start, and where does one stop?

Anyone?

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