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CRIME DOES NOT PAY

17/06/2019 08:08:00 The Editor

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Sir,

Walking down the streets head bowed; people staring at me, people shouting at me, people cursing me. Why should they be so angry with me? Why should they show so much hatred towards me? Why should they be so agitated? What have I done? What is my crime? In my hazy state I could not think clearly, in my confused mind I could not recall my actions. My walk is haggard; my head is bowed in shame. My eyes are bloodshot; my mouth is white as chalk. My heart is ripping my chest out; sweat is streaking down my face trying to wash away my sorrow. This is an unfortunate day, a day I wish had never come.

A day I wish could pass quickly. The cuffs on my hands are a testimony to my predicament; the cuffs on my hands are a testimony to my lifestyle. Many people despise me; many people abhor the sight of me. I have been a pain in their butt, giving them sleepless nights, making them prisoners in their own homes, instilling fear in their lives. I was a heartless fellow, with no time for mercy, with no time for sympathy. The community is right to show its anger, the community is right to show its feelings. Many have felt my brutality, many have felt my heartlessness. Many have felt the sharp edges of my knife, many women have felt my private parts without their permission.

Plundering

I have lived by the sweat of other people; robbing, conning and plundering their fortunes. I have been an architect of their fear, I was untouchable. Anybody who crossed my path death befell him. Drugs controlled my life; poverty hardened my life. Gangsterism took hold of my life; illiteracy destroyed my future. How many have I robbed? How many have I raped? How many have I killed? How many houses have I burgled? I have been a notorious gangster. Maybe I deserve the curses; maybe I deserve the hatred. Who is to blame? I did not blame myself. Where are my parents? Where are my relatives? Who made me this heartless monster? I have been a wanderer all my life, sleeping at dumpsites, scavenging food with other street children.

Anger filled my life; anger controlled my feelings. I could not take that life any longer; how I wished I had a comfy home. How I wished I had a loving family; how I wished to go to school. How I wished to live a better life; nobody rescued me from the dumps. Nobody cared about me; I used drugs to escape my sufferings. I tried to escape my poverty; I tried to direct my anger elsewhere, to no avail. Gangsterism became my only exit; gangsterism became my saviour. I rented a flat at KaKhoza; people started to feel my wrath. The nation was appalled; the police had a hard time trying to apprehend me. Fear engulfed the community; fear smothered the nation.

How I gloat in my infamy; how I gloat in my power. But today the day has come; the most wanted criminal has been caught. The most notorious criminal has been apprehended; 10 years of my notoriety has come to an end. People are staring at me, people are shouting at me. People are cursing me, people are sighing in relief. It’s been a roller-coaster ride; jail is my eternity now and death is my parole. They say crime doesn’t pay and they are right.