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WOMAN LIVES IN CAR FOR 3YRS AT COP SHOP

17/02/2022 09:14:00 Delisa Thwala

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MBABANE - One thousand and ninety five.

This is the exact number of days that a woman has spent living in her car parked at the Mbabane Police Station. According to police officers at the station, the woman does not speak to anyone. Further investigation by this publication revealed that the woman was once a lecturer in one of the institutions of higher learning in the country. Her daily routine as described by the police officers was said to be the same, she wakes up, gets ready and leaves for Mbabane Town. When she arrives in town, it was said that she sits at the Plaza, adjacent to Sigeja Curios. It has been gathered that it has three years since she parked her car at the police station and turned it into a home. Her place of origin is not known as well as her relatives, because attempts to speak to her always end in a scene, this was according to the police officers stationed at the aforementioned station. “We decided to let her be a long time ago. She lives in that car and every morning she wakes up and walk to town since her car broke down a few months back,” said one of the senior officers.

Surroundings

The officer said the woman seemed clearly aware of her surroundings judging by the things she gets up to she was of sound mind. “We first wondered where she was from and we later gave up because she does the same thing every day and we are used to her now. Attempts to get information on her background have never been successful,” said the officer. When this publication visited the police station last week, indeed the woman was found inside her parked car. Outside the car were a number of plastic bags which contained litter and a small bucket with water inside. To establish contact with the woman, this reporter went to her ‘place of abode’. As you walk towards the car a stench surrounds it, and underneath it, there is growing muddy mould. A knock on the car window sets the woman off; she jumps and drops a jacket she is holding. She reaches for the door and peeps out. The car has all sorts of things one could imagine, Twin Saver toilet paper rolls, KFC paper cups and a bottle of Mayonnaise and Atchar.

Comfortable

“Hello ma’am, we would like to talk to you. Would you be comfortable with that?” were the exact words said to her, to which; in a calm and respectful manner, she responded, “Okay, I will be with you shortly, I’m still getting dressed for town,” she said. Three minutes later, the woman came out of her car, a light green 2017 Mitsubishi Mirage with tinted windows. Clad in a baby blue tracksuit and blue sandals carrying a navy blue Pick n Pay shopping bag, the woman seems ready to hit the road. Her major accessory is a large brown umbrella and car keys. “Can you talk quickly I’m rushing to town before it becomes scorching hot,” she says, while making her way out of the police station. There is something about her as she steps one foot after the other, she has an inquisitive look and her eyes dart from the reporter in front of her to the people passing by and then her car. “Who are you? You are not a police officer, those are so annoying, I think they want to steal my car but that will not happen,” she stutters and then stops as if to see the reporter’s reaction to her statement. Upon being told that a certain lady had referred the reporter to her, as a way to get her to open up she does it again, the darting of eyes and looking back at her car.

Stabbed

“I had houses in Ezulwini and one in Manzini but I think I was a target because all my houses were broken into. I was beaten up and stabbed by shameless thugs and my belongings were stolen, all of them,” she narrates, while maintaining eye contact. Upon closer inspection, she might be well into her 40s, wears broken eyewear which resembles reading glasses and it is held together by an elastic band. Her face mask is purple. When asked about her family, her face changes. “I had a husband who was killed by thugs. I have a daughter in town and she must be waiting for me now as I have been delayed by you,” she says and her face goes from hard to soft when she mentions her daughter.

Attempts to get her to say her name or surname were fruitless as she did not budge. She later realised the need to say her name. “My name is private, I’m a foreigner and I keep my name private. I was a Dlamini but then the police here gave me Mkhonta. Oh yes, I’m Mkhonta,” she says dangling her car keys. Her skin looks taken care of, her feet appeared dry while her body language screamed tired. She stood up from the bricks we were sitting on and she says her good byes. “People have offered me a flat but I do not want it, I love living here a lot. Are you sure you are not a police officer because I do not like talking to them?” she asks again. By now she is taking off and not answering questions about where she used to work or where she gets the money to spend when in town. She walks off, with an increased pace and disappears into the crowd.

This reporter followed the woman to confirm the daily routine alleged by the police officers. She was once again aware of her surroundings, as she walked towards town and greeted street vendors. She seemingly knew when to stop and wait for cars and when to cross to the other side of the road. The time was 8:30am when she reached Shoprite Supermarket. She walked inside and grabbed a blue Energade energy drink.

Toilet

She went to the toilet next to PEP Stores and she came back to sit on the chairs nearby. After gulping down the drink, she proceeded to queue for food at London Fish & Chips. She had large potato chips paired with hake and a Coca-Cola soft drink. “That is her daily morning meal, she always buys that every day and she sits there. Sometimes her boyfriend comes by, they sit and chat but she is always there,”said one of the taxi man who operate nearby. This publication monitored the woman for the better part of the day. She would sometimes visit the restrooms and come back. She was also seen taking snack breaks and would now and again laugh to herself. She spent the whole of Friday afternoon sitting and doing nothing.