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I Almost Killed

I Almost Killed
M I almost Killed. Migrating to Africa from Zimbabwe proved to be harder than I had anticipated. The SA government was not giving work permits at all and we watched as our visas and days in South Africa expired or overstayed and we became illegal. The only way was to apply for refugee status which logically was ridiculous, considering that we had moved to South Africa in search of jobs and a better life. We joined the other nations in applying and soon learned that getting an asylum seeker permit was going to be the hardest thing that we had ever attempted. But seeing it was the only choice we had we became part of the UNHCR applicants living in South Africa. We went through a lot of abuse as xenophobia raised its ugly head and we experienced it in all sorts of forms. The bright side was that employers liked us far much better than the locals, because with the strong University of Cambridge education, we worked and expressed ourselves in a more intelligent way. We settled for menial jobs because we did not have the paperwork to apply for anything else, and we watched as all our years of education and achievements went down the drain. For me personally, the battles were more than I could bear. The only thing that kept me afloat was the determination that I had in me to put my kids in better schools, to get the perfect job and to live a better life. With each setback, each struggle to get paperwork, the bubbly personality that I once had quickly melted and in it was left a very hard, bitter and angry woman. I kept on pushing forward towards my goals and worked hard to get the asylum seeker permit, which came with spending cold and rainy nights at the home affairs refugee office. I put a lot of effort into looking and getting a job that I would be content with. I gave it my best and finally made it but it took a lot of years of tears, emotional and ego bumps and bruises, sometimes falling hard but getting up to try again. It took a lot to restore and get back to the woman that I was and wanted to be. I had to work at my inner self to realize the whole migration had made me stronger. It was during my angry days that I found what I thought was my dream job. I was excited because it was at one of the largest printing companies in Cape Town. They wanted to try me for at least a week. As I got off the taxi I noticed a tall, bald, black man standing against a pole. I had a small black handbag which had my return fare of ten rands, and my permit which my employer had asked for. I am normally sceptical of muggers but on that morning I did not think anything of him. I had black high heeled shoes and made my way slowly since I was super early, about forty minutes before the time. A few minutes after passing the man I heard footsteps running towards me but from behind and before I could turn, he had grabbed my hand bag and was sprinting at full speed. Without thinking I also bolted after him at incredible speed that shocked both of us. I was shouting at the top of my voice for anyone at all to stop thief in all the languages that I could speak properly and those I was learning to speak. I totally forgot that I had high heels on and ran as if my life depended on it. It did, my permit that was so difficult to get was in that bag. I could feel myself burning with anger of everything that had gone so wrong with my coming to South Africa, all my dreams and ambitions that had hit a wall. I was furious. A woman driving in the opposite direction, who from what I gathered later, was tired from all the crime happening in the area, noticed the injustice to a fellow woman and quickly made a u turn to come and pick me up. By the time we got to the guy, some guys from a nearby factory had caught him and sat him down. I got out of the car in so much fury that I wanted to kill someone. I have no idea how I looked but my heart was beating out of my chest. My eyes wanted blood. A guy handed me my bag and with cold politeness asked him to hold on to it for a while. I took off my shoe and held the front of it with all my energy and with more energy went onto attack the thief on the head. People watched in horror as the tip of my shoe made holes in his head. I would have gone on had people not held me and sat me down. I was shaking and as if in a trans watched the thief as if he was my prey. I wanted him dead and did not for once think about the consequences. Someone made me sugar water to try and tame my nerves that by that time were in Kill Bill mode. The police did not arrive on time and a decision was made for us to all go to work. I checked my bag for the original contents and after giving a satisfied nod, I was taken to the office. I have no idea what became of the thief Looking back on the whole thing, I realized I could have committed murder but I still have no regrets. I do not think I would have gone to jail due to temporary insanity, duress or aggravated circumstances. But then again, you never know. I am a much happier and better woman that I was at that time. I almost Killed. Migrating to Africa from Zimbabwe proved to be harder than I had anticipated. The SA government was not giving work permits at all and we watched as our visas and days in South Africa expired or overstayed and we became illegal. The only way was to apply for refugee status which logically was ridiculous, considering that we had moved to South Africa in search of jobs and a better life. We joined the other nations in applying and soon learned that getting an asylum seeker permit was going to be the hardest thing that we had ever attempted. But seeing it was the only choice we had we became part of the UNHCR applicants living in South Africa. We went through a lot of abuse as xenophobia raised its ugly head and we experienced it in all sorts of forms. The bright side was that employers liked us far much better than the locals, because with the strong University of Cambridge education, we worked and expressed ourselves in a more intelligent way. We settled for menial jobs because we did not have the paperwork to apply for anything else, and we watched as all our years of education and achievements went down the drain. For me personally, the battles were more than I could bear. The only thing that kept me afloat was the determination that I had in me to put my kids in better schools, to get the perfect job and to live a better life. With each setback, each struggle to get paperwork, the bubbly personality that I once had quickly melted and in it was left a very hard, bitter and angry woman. I kept on pushing forward towards my goals and worked hard to get the asylum seeker permit, which came with spending cold and rainy nights at the home affairs refugee office. I put a lot of effort into looking and getting a job that I would be content with. I gave it my best and finally made it but it took a lot of years of tears, emotional and ego bumps and bruises, sometimes falling hard but getting up to try again. It took a lot to restore and get back to the woman that I was and wanted to be. I had to work at my inner self to realize the whole migration had made me stronger. It was during my angry days that I found what I thought was my dream job. I was excited because it was at one of the largest printing companies in Cape Town. They wanted to try me for at least a week. As I got off the taxi I noticed a tall, bald, black man standing against a pole. I had a small black handbag which had my return fare of ten rands, and my permit which my employer had asked for. I am normally sceptical of muggers but on that morning I did not think anything of him. I had black high heeled shoes and made my way slowly since I was super early, about forty minutes before the time. A few minutes after passing the man I heard footsteps running towards me but from behind and before I could turn, he had grabbed my hand bag and was sprinting at full speed. Without thinking I also bolted after him at incredible speed that shocked both of us. I was shouting at the top of my voice for anyone at all to stop thief in all the languages that I could speak properly and those I was learning to speak. I totally forgot that I had high heels on and ran as if my life depended on it. It did, my permit that was so difficult to get was in that bag. I could feel myself burning with anger of everything that had gone so wrong with my coming to South Africa, all my dreams and ambitions that had hit a wall. I was furious. A woman driving in the opposite direction, who from what I gathered later, was tired from all the crime happening in the area, noticed the injustice to a fellow woman and quickly made a u turn to come and pick me up. By the time we got to the guy, some guys from a nearby factory had caught him and sat him down. I got out of the car in so much fury that I wanted to kill someone. I have no idea how I looked but my heart was beating out of my chest. My eyes wanted blood. A guy handed me my bag and with cold politeness asked him to hold on to it for a while. I took off my shoe and held the front of it with all my energy and with more energy went onto attack the thief on the head. People watched in horror as the tip of my shoe made holes in his head. I would have gone on had people not held me and sat me down. I was shaking and as if in a trans watched the thief as if he was my prey. I wanted him dead and did not for once think about the consequences. Someone made me sugar water to try and tame my nerves that by that time were in Kill Bill mode. The police did not arrive on time and a decision was made for us to all go to work. I checked my bag for the original contents and after giving a satisfied nod, I was taken to the office. I have no idea what became of the thief Looking back on the whole thing, I realized I could have committed murder but I still have no regrets. I do not think I would have gone to jail due to temporary insanity, duress or aggravated circumstances. But then again, you never know. I am a much happier and better woman that I was at that time.

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