All About the Story

If you’re going to live, at least live a story worth telling. Good or Bad, share your experience and make it interesting….


Botswana is a land of limitless stories waiting to be told. While here I have explored the salt pans, lived with a local family, been proposed to (a few times), celebrated my twenty-first birthday, anticipated a university strike, sat in a police station, and much, much more.

What’s that? Oh yes! You read correctly. I indeed have had the privilege of introducing myself to the local police and filling a report which I’m sure will do nothing more but clutter some poor working man’s desk.

No, it’s not what you’re thinking. I’m sure that most are aware that I and the law have an interesting history, but I promise you this time handcuffs were not involved. In fact I was the victim, or more the friend of the victim; a witness to a crime if you will.

Today, after returning from Mochudi, my friend, Christina and I decided to go to Riverwalk Mall to buy a few groceries for the up and coming week. From the University to Riverwalk is approximately a 20 minute walk and a journey we have become all too familiar with.

As we left the now closing grocery store, the sky was still blue and filled with light. We decided to walk.

We turned down a side street that usually had little to know traffic. We had become very used to taking this road and figured it was in fact the safer decision since taking the main road often meant risking your life with the speeding cars who are in no way concerned about pedestrians lining the sides of the road.

Christina and I are talking loudly, laughing, and enjoying our conversation as usual. Just as we begin to approach the cross street (also very busy) a young man runs up from behind. He grabbed Christina’s bag, and began pulling it with all his strength. Within seconds her bag was ripped from her hands, and her groceries lie in a mess on the ground.

In less than thirty seconds, the man (who looked younger then both Christina and I) had grabbed her bag and dashed around the corner, forever out of sight. We had been taught and told several times not to fight back. That are lives where more important than our possessions. In all honesty I’m not sure we could have done anything with how fast it all happened.

As the man ran away Christina and I began to scream thief at the top of our lungs. We had been told that Botswana is well known for their mob justice and upon yelling “thief” many citizens will take justice into their own hands and often stop the perpetrator.

There was no one around to here our cries.

He was gone. With him, he now had Christina’s dorm keys, Cell phone, and Wallet containing her license, social security card, credit card, debit card, account information, and 50 pula.

Both her and I care were quite alright, but the stress that would soon follow would be very overwhelming.

Life’s an adventure, like it or not.