Sunday, August 30, 2009

THE DAY AFTER THE ROBBERY

After the gruesome experiences during the night, we might have dozed off for a few minutes before the house servant knocked at the back door. I was startled into wakefulness and realized that it was broad daylight already. I felt as if waking up from a nightmare into reality and the happenings of the night were just a bad dream. However, a shooting pain on my left shoulder where the intruder's iron bar had fallen, reminded me that the robbery was real.

I opened the kitchen door and found Richard, my servant, standing there. A large window-grill was lying not too far. "So, they left it here", was the first thing he said. A thought of doubt flashed through my muddled brain. What was he talking about and who were "they"? Did he already know about the robbery? Then why didn't he come to my assistance when the siren screamed its head off unless.....? My thoughts trailed off.

It was past seven in the morning. I decided to go to the local police station and report the matter. The sleepy policeman at the counter wrote down the F.I.R. When I gave him the list of articles that were taken away, he was asking me whether that was all as if a bit disappointed. However, I could not think of anything else. By the time he finished the F.I.R, a gentleman wearing a sports jacket whom I came to know later as the Officer in charge, breezed in. On seeing a foreigner near the counter, he approached me and asked what the problem was. After hearing my story he told me that it was a matter for the "Anti-robbery squad" and would be passed on to them. He further assured me that the culprits would be apprehended soon.

My next stop was at the office of the Ministry of Works. The windows that were damaged by the thieves had to be repaired. The maintenance officer promised to send his crew by mid-morning so that they could finish the job by late afternoon.

By the time I reached home, I found the police had arrived. There were three of them, including the finger-print man. He was dusting the window sill and frames, door handles etc. for prints and collected some. He would have to compare them with the collection of prints at the bureau. The other two were talking to Richard in a very friendly manner and smoking the cheap cigarettes he offered. As they were talking in bemba, I did not understand what they were saying. Anyway, it sounded like a friendly conversation, let alone any police interrogation.

The maintenance officer kept his word by sending his crew to repair the damaged windows and fix the protective grills. The phone line which was cut off by the thieves was also reconnected. In short things were back to normal once again.

During the lunch hour, the maintenance officer paid a visit to my place to see how the work was progressing. As the official vehicle was not available, he decided to walk, taking a short-cut through the town cemetery. He was walking along a well-defined path when he noticed a number of oblong objects on the ground nearby. He picked up one of them and found it to be a cheque book. He examined the others also and found them all cheque books of certain foreign banks. As my name was stamped on them, he concluded that the thieves might have tarried in the cemetery for a while in order to divide the proceeds of the robbery between them and the cheque books which were found among the spoils were discarded as they were of no use to them. The officer brought them along to me.

After the workers and some friends who had gathered at my place left, we felt very lonely. In fact we did not relish the idea of spending another night at No.34, David Kaunda drive. So we ate an early supper, gathered some clothes and rushed to the Top shop flats where some friends were staying. It was there that we slept for the next seven or eight nights until we left permanently the house that was our residence for the past fifteen years and moved to one of the ZCCM (Zambia Consolidated Copper Mine) flats with " round the clock" security.

Note: Securing a suitable alternate accommodation at such a short notice was not an easy thing. For this, I am indebted to a number of good people who sympathised with me at my predicament, like my colleagues Silumbu and Sakala, who were sharing one of the mine flats allocated to the housing pool and who agreed to swap with me, Mr. Zumani, my boss and Mr. Phiri, the district secretary of Mufulira who was also the chairman of the housing committee who both approved the proposal for the swap and made it possible for me and my family to move to the new premises within the shortest possible time. Undoubtedly this was another occasion of Zambian goodwill experienced by me during my long stay in that country.

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