First Day in Africa - A near-death experience in Johannesburg

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My first day in Africa was a violent one.

After a near 30 hour flight from Sydney via Hong Kong, I arrived Johannesburg on this very cold and sunny, Sunday morning.

This was my first trip ever to the Great Continent of Africa.

Transiting in Hong Kong

A cold crisp morning in Johannesburg

The airport exchange kiosks only offered murderous exchange rates, so I decided to try the ATM, and it worked.  So with a pocketful of South African Rand, I was ready to hit the town.

The trip to the hotel in the business district of Johannesburg was easy enough in my near new rental car, and the room was terrific.  I was not tired after the long trip, jet lag had not hit me yet.


I then asked the receptionist for a map and directions to a nearby supermarket, as I wanted to stock up on some water, fruits and snacks, for my long trip ahead to Kasane of northeastern Botswana, a 1400 Km drive, to my first safari stop.  She was not too forthcoming with the directions, just to say that they can take me there with their car, I thought it was a case of trying to get me to buy more services, but on hearing that it was a complimentary service, I was pleasantly surprised.  She recommended that I always use their car to go anywhere within 5 Km, I should have taken the hint !

Carlton Center - where the supermarket is.

At the supermarket, there was a long queue in the checkout, I was overdue in returning to meet my driver.  Then I saw him come running in to look for me and take me to the car.  What was his worry?!  I missed the second hint.

The car was parked just outside the large shopping complex, and there were many men loitering around for a small tips to look after someone's parked car, a sign of security problems !?

Looking out of the windows of the restaurant whilst having lunch back at the hotel, I noticed that the building next door is the Anglo American's head office, a mining giant of South African origin.  

That brought back memories that I would have been in that building in 1983, some 31 years ago, to make a presentation to the senior managements about a new line of hi-tech scientific equipment that we were manufacturing in Melbourne. 

Soon after lunch, as I was still feeling fit, I decided to go out for a walk, not wanting to be bothered with a chauffeured car.  Hell, it was a quiet Sunday afternoon, and it was sunny and peaceful around the hotel, why bother with a car !! I thought.

But I thought better to leave all my passports, wallets, and expensive cameras in the hotel, save a pocketful of Rands, and some USD cash plus a small pocket camera, smartphone etc. All hidden inside my Columbia overcoat and the zipped pockets of my pant.

Johannesburg is the economic capital of  South Africa, mining is a major part of the economy, so there are no surprises that many global mining giants have their offices in here.  And I was wandering along the streets towards Carlton Center, where I shopped earlier in the day.

Passing Gandhi Square, and of course, Gandhi had a very remarkable role in anti-apartheid politics in South Africa even before the ANC and Mandela, how can one forget that.

A couple of blocks further, I set foot in Carlton Center again. It was not unlike a typical Westfield Shopping centre in Sydney on a Sunday afternoon, with most of the shops closed, except a few cafes and eateries.

By now, I was becoming complacent, and decided to exit the center at the northern end, and saw a long row of smaller shops lining the narrow street, there were plenty of shoppers, but not overly crowded.

So I kept wandering north aimlessly, just to kill time. Quite a few blocks further, I noticed that it has become a crowded street of people waiting for transportation, so I decided to turn left, and walked in the general directions of the hotel. 

Halfway down the block, I smell a stench coming from the buildings around, and across the road, a black building, fairly dilapidated with a few gangster looking blokes loitering in the front, then it clicked.

I remembered some BBC documentary a year earlier, talking about this building and a couple of others on the same street, were hijacked by gangsters, and this had been ( probably still is ) the battleground between them and some vigilante groups and the polices.

Hell, how did I get here!

Feeling unease, I quickly pocketed my camera, and finished the half block, turned left and go straight towards Carlton Center again.  It was about 3 pm, and there were quite a few hawkers selling bootleg DVDs  along the way, I brushed pass them, and quick paced back towards Carlton Center, with my head down.

After a couple of blocks, Carlton Center Building was right in front of my eyes, I was in a much better neighborhood, it seemed, a main street with shops closed for Sunday.  I was ready to cross the street, then......

First, this African man overtook me and approached me from the front, he pushed my head backwards, I felled onto the arms of another, who proceeded to arm locked my neck and choking me hard, and one from another side, try to push me to the ground.  The strangle was becoming very hard......

Then... I fell into a dreamy state.  I felt was swimming in a tight and brightly lit enclosure, like a round fish bowl or a big bubble, feeling very restricted and probably was drowning. I was feeling frustrated with the lack of space and freedom....and yelled with all my might.  But I had no recollection of anyone else surrounding me, fleecing my pockets etc.

Reality came back, I was lying on the ground, free and panting heavily, and trying to come to terms...There was a fist fight going on....someone in uniform.....  Then a couple of African men were kicked to the ground, face slapped, and bundled into the back of a police car in the middle of the road.

I saw my smartphone and my Garmin GPS unit and the batteries were scattered on the ground.  I was saved by three policemen on car patrol.

I was mugged...the police told me, I could have been killed if not for someone on the street alerting them to this direction when they drove by.

My pocket camera was gone, and so were the cash in my pocket.  Everything was fleeced out of me in the time I was unconscious...and they were caught in the act.

My throat was very sore, and I spoke like having a cold.  But nothing else seemed to have been injured.

It all happened in the middle of a sunny and bright afternoon, on the main street of Johannesburg.  I should have taken the hints about using the hotel's complimentary car.

We were driven to the Central Johannesburg Police Station, and were taken into a big room, like an unused gym.

Whilst one of the officers was getting paperwork filled out, the usual personal details and my recollection of the event, my lost properties etc.

The two thugs were stripped of their belts and taken in turn into another room, presumably for interrogation.  When they came out, they were weeping, and one of the officers was slapping their face occasionally.  Later on, I understood that they were forcing them to contact the one who ran away with my camera.  They were trying to get my camera returned.

One of the thugs and their mobile phones

The two arrested left their mobile phones on the table, and the officers were monitoring the phone calls to and fro.  After a flurry of mobile phone calls, all spoken in, what I presume to be an African dialect which I do not understand.  After a couple of hours, two officers took them out and returned half an hour later with my camera.  Then the two criminals are left lying on the floor lamely, awaiting charges to be formally laid.  An hour earlier they violently disturbed my space, and possibly my family's happiness.

The efforts that these officers put in to helping a poor tourist were beyond my words.

There was one more piece of paperwork that I had to sign, is the release of the "suspected stolen" properties to me, of which, I promised to produce if required by the court.

My cheap smartphone had its glasses cracked, but is still usable, the camera was slightly scratched and working, the Garmin GPS was put back and worked fine.  Save the cashes lost.

I waited for another hour, for a case officer to be assigned, who, as I understood, would be the officer who was going to investigate and see through the prosecution process etc.

The two criminals were committed to detention, they said "sorry" as they were led away.  I too, was sorry for them, why did they have to resort to this.  Perhaps life was quite impossible for them !  Though I did not find out, I suspect that they were not South Africans, but illegal immigrants from the north, possibly Zimbabwe or Mozambique.

It was already dark, when the three officers kindly offered to take me back to hotel.  They were very friendly, and had been very helpful throughout.  We exchanged contact details, and I sent them a big Thank You note come the next X'mas.

The next morning, before embarking on my long journey to Botswana in my car, I visited the Police Station ( Johannesburg Central ) early in the morning to see if I can catch the Case Officer and see what else he would want.

It was a case of running up and down the floors of this old building, fairly dilapidated, no lifts were working on this 12-14 stories building. This was the same building, that during apartheid era, made notorious for the human abuses and tortures that were dished out to black dissidents....but now it seems that it is mainly staffed by native Africans.  The state of the building speaks volume about the resources available to policing in this notoriously violent city.

After some searches and querying, I finally located the office of the Case Officer, but he was in court for the morning.  So I left my email address with his colleagues, and decided to start my long trip north.

I still had not found the time, nor do I want to at this stage, to reflect on the traumatic experience. It was a near death encounter alright.

And that was my introduction to Africa.

One other issue was also starting to brew, 6000 Km away, that nearly sent me scurrying for the airport.........



Next Post:  The Long Drive to Kasane.