Poor People Steal

“Poor people steal; this is a trait they have in common with the rich, whose thefts vary only in the degree of the necessity and the quality of the theft.”

from Living Poor: A Peace Corps Chronicle by Moritz Thomsen

I was pick-pocketed today. What a terrible experience! I didn’t realize it until much later.

I woke up at 6:00am for some reason, without even using my alarm. I toasted a couple pieces of wonderfully delicious homemade bread for breakfast. I then enjoyed three cups of chai while I read Romans, chapters 7-9 and Oswald Chamber’s entry for the day.

Then I painted the ceiling trim in my house. Hmmm…. not sure I like the color, though. I’ve been doing lots of painting lately, in fact. Generally, I like the results.

I left my house walking and rejoicing in the absolute splendid sunshine! Nairobi’s weather has been chilly, overcast, and rainy lately and I’d grown more than tired of it! Today, there’s lots and lots of blue sky and warm sun!

I arrived at Karen shops and made a withdrawal from the ATM machine. There’s always a fine line between withdrawing a fair amount (which means walking around with lots of cash) and making less frequent withdrawals (which cost about $7.00 each). Well, this time I opted to take out enough for today, tomorrow, and some extra.

While buying a newspaper and some phone credit… and waiting for change (a common annoyance in Kenya), the bus that I would normally use (City Hoppa) went past me.

So, instead of waiting 20 minutes or so for the next one, I walked over to the more busy bus stage. I had hoped to get some sort of bus, as I find them more comfortable than matatus (Nissan vans). However, there were none in sight. I spotted a matatu with the front seat available and decided to use it. A young man carry a limp backpack climbed into the seat between me and the driver.

We went along as per usual; I scanned the front page of the newspaper and paid my fare. At one point, one of the passengers behind me tapped me on the shoulder and told me to use my seat belt. Assuming there were police up ahead, I obliged him. The young man sitting next to me attempted to do the same, but couldn’t get his belt to come loose from wherever it was stuck. I tried to help him as best I could; he never was successful and alighted at the next stage anyway.

Lots of work is being done on the potholes on Ngong Road lately. Oftentimes, the traffic is diverted to allow the men to work. Today was no exception. The “mat” I was on had to take a detour a short distance from where I wanted to alight, so I got out early and walked the short distance.

I had a funny feeling about the struggle my seat mate and I had with his seat belt. I checked my fanny pack for my phone. Whew! It was still there!

I stopped to see a friend briefly at her office and then got a few grocery items at Nakumatt. When I reached the counter to pay is when I discovered that I’d been pick-pocketed!

He’d stolen a small leather coin purse. Several important items were inside it – Omaha and Kenya ATM cards, my new alien card, my Nebraska driver’s license, a reduced-in-size copy of my passport, my Nakumatt Smart Card (for collecting shoppers’ points), etc.

I had withdrawn $187. He’d gotten all but $7.00 of it!

I felt my face grow flush as I told the man at the cash register not to ring up my items. I instinctively and instantly knew exactly what had happened! It was the young man sitting next to me on the mat. The whole thing had been a ploy! There never were any policemen ahead of us. It’s likely the passenger behind me, as well as the conductor (and possibly the driver) were all in it together!

It’s a common tactic. He had used his backpack (sometimes it’s a newspaper or a package) to hide what his hand was doing – rummaging in my fanny pack. The seatbelt story was a way to distract my attention.

I froze in the checkout line as my mind came to the realization of what had transpired. The checkout guy and sacker of my line and the one next to me were all very sympathetic. They didn’t try to rush me along at all, but listened to my story and tried to encourage me in my plight.

I checked the front pocket of my fanny pack and was relieved to find a 100-shilling note and some coins. At least I could get back home. My other plans for the day were suddenly very insignificant.

After I alighted from the bus, I could hardly stop the tears from falling. Once I got home, I turned on my laptop and desk phone in the sitting room.

Then I fell on my knees in my bedroom. I didn’t even know how to pray but poured out my heart to the Lord silently through my tears. Interestingly, in the morning I had read this verse –

“We do not know what we ought to pray for,

but the Spirit himself intercedes for us

with groans that words cannot express.”

I got online immediately to send an email to my bank alerting them to the stolen ATM card.

Such incidences are so, so very discouraging!

My consolation is that my Father in heaven knows what happened. He sees my tears. He loves me. He owns the cattle on a thousand hills.

I also praise God that I wasn’t harmed physically.

This unpleasant episode seems to highlight the importance of your prayers for me! Please re-read again the following prayer items in my prayer letter (in the next blog entry).

Please be faithful and diligent in praying for me!!