“Edo-Mill News! Horrific Headlines … Available here!” shouted a young man near the Edo-Mill taxi rank. He was selling a heap of the local newspaper.

Although the newspaper was an independent print, selling for only two rand, it was popular among the residents of the township and was supported.

“Greetings, my brother … Greetings, my brother,” saluted the young man. “Buy yourself a copy … Believe me, my brother, what is here concerns you as a resident.”

At first I thought, Clifford, just pass on by. It was probably just the same old gossip. Everybody in Edo-Mill knew that the newspaper was filled with township gossip. I hesitated for a moment before I dug out my two-rand coin from my pocket and bought the newspaper.

“Thank you, brother … Thank you for your kindness,” replied the young man as he handed me the newspaper.

“FEAR AMONG ED-MILL RESIDENTS, UNBEARABLE NIGHTMARE UNFOLDS”

“Local police are combining in a search for the unknown killers of a young constable and an elderly man. Residents in the township suspect a group of criminals called the Grizzly Bear Gang.”

People were starting to up and leave the township to the safety of relatives.

“We’d rather leave now than get brutally killed later,” that is what residents were telling each other. Gone was the sense of unity in Edo-Mill that my Uncle Edward kept talking about.

I rolled up my newspaper and headed back home. As I rounded a corner I heard the scream of a woman – a cry for help.

“Catch him! Mbambeni! Yho! Ncedani! Bethu. Somebody, help!” the anguished woman shouted.

I stood on the gravel pavement. The scream came from an elderly woman at the taxi rank across the street.

It seemed the elderly woman’s purse had just been stolen. Four taxi drivers immediately gave chase to catch the robber. Although it was traumatic for the elderly woman, it was a funny sight ,watching the taxi drivers chase the culprit. Two of the taxi drivers were ridiculously overweight, with potbellies hanging out. They ran for two minutes or so and ended up huffing and puffing along the tracks. They finally gave up.

“Catch that monster, catch him. Don’t stop now!” cried the angry women and men at the taxi rank. Another two taxi drivers gave chase. Passengers began to climb out from the taxis, joining the crowd outside and gathering as a mob.

Everyone at the taxi rank desperately wanted a piece of the action. I joined the crowd. I could see the two men gaining on the robber. Both men could run fast and the robber was becoming exhausted and slowing down.

One of the men jumped to catch the robber, tackling him on the dusty ground. As the man fell there was a whirlwind of dust. The second taxi driver, who was also giving chase, arrived at the scene. He held both legs of the robber tightly so that the robber could not slip away again. Both men dragged the robber like a piece of torn rag towards the taxi rank.

The crowd, having seen that the robber had been caught, cheered.

“Yes! Yes!” shouted the women and men joyfully. “That bastard must pay; there’s no escape for him now.”

All of a sudden there were long, thick planks of wood and silver, metal baseball bats held by a number of men working at the taxi rank. I knew that what was about to happen and I shuddered.

Everybody at the taxi rank was now becoming angrier and angrier. Women street vendors who sold vegetables and meat were now up on their feet, holding big silver pots and pans in the air.

As the two men arrived with the robber, one of the men handed the purse over to the elderly woman.

“Here you go, Mama,” said the man.

“This idiot thought he was clever,” the man klapped the robber hard on the back of his head.

“Oh! Thank you, my child,” replied the elderly woman. “Thank you to the both of you.” She took hold of her purse, and then swung it, smacking the robber’s face and head.

“You ill-disciplined child!” The elderly woman struck him again and again. “You good-for-nothing rubbish.”

The crowd stood behind the elderly woman, ready to demonstrate to the robber the term “mob justice”.

What on earth had he been thinking? I thought to myself, staring at the robber. This young man, who had just robbed an elderly woman, had a slender body and an innocent face.

“Do whatever you want with this fool,” said the elderly woman.

The crowd began to circle around the robber.

“Ja, you really thought you were clever, ne?” said the people angrily. “Now we will teach you to never steal again!”

In a flash, iron baseball bats, heavy sticks, cooking pots, fists, legs, metal chains and traditional fighting sticks were striking all over the robber’s body.

“Don’t give him any room!” shouted the people angrily. “He must never even try to take another chance again.”

The young lad could not speak.

Standing nearby a line of parked taxis, I watched the crowd beating the robber and I felt pity for him.

Then, suddenly, the crowd began to scatter as the police vans drove up, parting the crowd.

The police headed towards where the robber lay on the ground.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! What’s going on here?” shouted Lieutenant Jobela. One of the men who had given chase to catch the robber walked forward to the lieutenant and explained everything.

“That is bull!” shouted the lieutenant. “Does that mean you have to suddenly take the law into your own hands?”

“But … but,” stuttered the man, “this tsotsi had stolen an old lady’s purse.” He pointed to the robber.

“Hayi! No buts, maan!” replied Lieutenant Jobela furiously. “You should have called the police first before you go all out trying to kill this man. What if he died? You would be charged with culpable homicide. All of you are damn lucky that this man is still breathing.”

The truth of the matter was that everybody in the crowd was boiling hot with anger and there were no ice blocks to cool them off.

“Take him and lock him at the back,” commanded Lieutenant Jobela. “Make sure you lock it tight. Before we put him in jail, we will send him straight to hospital,” he said to his colleagues. “Both of you will guard him. I will put you as his security in charge.”

* * *

Question: What is dangerous about the crowd taking justice into their own hands?