Football hooligans beware, you may get more than what you bargained for during the World Cup. Instead of preparing ‘Chelsea Bricks’ with the weekly edition of the Mail and Guardian or organising fisticuffs with opposition fans in a dark corner of Soccer City, perhaps consider retiring to your hotels for a quiet drink whilst watching the highlights of the day’s games.
On our first Sunday together in Pretoria, World Cup host city and our new home for the next year, a friend recommended a visit to a weekly outdoor flea market in the student suburb of Hatfield. Passing through a throng of student hippies, armed with faux dreadlocks and real digeridoos, we stopped by the first market stall. Expecting to be handed an incense stick by a Rastafarian, I was surprised to see a table manned by a stern looking man in military fatigues. He seemed nonchalant as I picked up one of his wares to inspect, a lethal looking Shaolin style sword clearly not designed to peel potatoes. Eager for a sale, the paramilitary stallholder demonstrated how to use a concealable extendable metal truncheon whilst I browsed his collection of combat knives, ninja stars, nunchuks, and most terrifying of all, high voltage tazers designed to look like mobile phones. Camden Market this isn’t, welcome to South Africa.
Security is the primary concern here. We are currently staying in a well off residential suburb, with large plots adorned by beautiful homes, all organised in an orderly grid of wide tree lined boulevards. Being a five minute walk from the Loftus Versfeld Stadium, it is brimming with expectant guesthouse as well as pretty churches on block corners, schools and pools on others, plenty of open space dotted with bird sanctuaries and play parks. A suburban dream lined with fences, all of it, and not of the picket type. Commercial and Residential properties are rung by tall walls, electric gates and high voltage wire more akin to Guantanamo Bay than a realtors paradise. Threatening posters showing armed commandos restraining rabid looking dogs are bolted to fences, advertising the private security company responsible, and warning prospective thieves of the method of their demise if they attempt to break-in. Walking after dark in all suburbs is an absolute no no, a suicide mission. Cars are self-locking, and official advice in the case of a carjacking is to crash the vehicle in the hope that this will stop the carjackers take you to their final destination. Crime in South Africa isn’t just prolific, it can also have a sadistic taste. Stories abound that ‘Tsotsis’, not content with simply stealing your wallet, phone or vehicle, may mercilessly rape and kill.
In response, mob rule isn’t uncommon. A recent edition of the local paper, reports that a petty thief was beaten to death by a baying crowd of up to 200 after being caught trying to steal a basic fruit machine from a small shop. This sadism and mob rule seems to have pervaded sections of South Africa’s strong civil society too. A current high profile story in the papers is documenting the fallout from a ‘drag racing incident’ where a well known Hip Hop artist, Molemo ‘Jub Jub’ Maarohanye, is in the courts for allegedly ploughing his Mini Cooper into a group of children whilst drunkenly racing the streets of Soweto, killing four. Clearly if found guilty, Jub Jub and his co-accused deserve everything the law throws at them, but school children protesting outside the courthouse want more. They have been threatening to kill the accused, and just in case that isn’t enough, to burn the homes of their relatives too. In a country where civil society is vibrant, demanding and unforgiving, a slide into crowds baying for blood is a worrying prospect.
Considering that everyone we have met, from differing points on the vastly disparate economic, social and racial spectrums, has been absolutely charming, I wondered if there was a hint of security paranoia. Maybe a little, but we would be fools to neglect the principal advice coming from all corners and the brutal crime statistics in black and white. Whilst looking for a more permanent place to live, electric gates, burglar bars and secure parking have become our defining search criteria over outside space, proximity to town and home furnishings. In order to avoid becoming nocturnal prisoners in our own mini Alcatraz, we will have to invest in a vehicle to ferry us to and from the all-consuming all-catering monstrous malls that dominate each suburb. Soulless and sanitary they may be, but safe too.
The countdown to the World Cup is ticking relentlessly, and the rest of the world is unsure about South Africa’s readiness. My initial impression isn’t to worry about the infrastructure, but the crime. The expected euphoria of a football mad continent hosting the pinnacle of competitions may sweep fears away. The advent of celebrating fans thronging city centres in jubilation may overwhelm many crooks. But, there must be several gangsters rubbing their hands and licking their lips at the prospects of rich pickings ahead.
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