Where fools rush in

A great  meeting with my concert co-conspirators today. Progress. I leave the cafe and head to the closest boda stand (motorcycle taxis) and as I approach I see an obviously very drunk old man being dragged around by his neck. The boda boys have noosed him with a necktie and are pulling on either end, choking and dragging him through the dirt as others kick and hit him. Oh Lord. A boda boy turns on me - "it's 1.5 (shillings) today" "Why, I ask is it 500 more today than yesterday?" He snarls at me and tells me to get my man to buy me my own boda then. "Fine" I say "I will get another ride." He flies across me at the old man who is now staggering about yelling indecipherably and ploughshares him one, two, three brutal blows and blood flies from the mans face and a mob is forming. Instinctively.. because obviously the brain has not fully engaged.. I jump between them and yell to "STOP - this old man is drunk!! He is harmless" Coincidentally, or not, I am carrying a large stick of sugarcane with me and I hold it shakily between me and the fierce, bloodthirsty face in front of me. He stops. Everyone draws back. I threaten to call police - he bolts and the filthy, bleeding old man staggers away unknowing of all that has transpired on his behalf. I know full well that the only thing between me and the slap is my mzungu face and his unknown fate if he hits me.

This is not the first time I have seen this, and probably not the last, but this was the time that I could not stop myself and I am shaken but not sorry. God protects children and drunks they say, and obviously this day a quaking, shaking, fierce and angry woman. Would I do it again knowing the outcome could have been my blood and body? I cannot say for sure. I only know that today was not a day I was prepared to stand down from my principles. I will not visit this corner again, it is notorious I am told for violence. A month ago a man had 3 nails driven through his head here.

The wonder of it to me was to stand in the face of such anger, such a blindingly hateful young man and contemplate fully what a hard life he must face to fill him with such vileness. I feel deep sorrow and pity for him, for his soul, and his heart and his future, for he is surely riding a fast rail to destruction. On another day he will make another wrong choice and succumb to a face as angry as his own or the mob behind it. Or not, there is still time for him.

I have always told my friends that the thing about Africa that draws and pulls you back is that you never know from one day to the next what will happen in front of you. And so it is.

I'm looking at the last line from my post from this morning and smiling for it was never more true than this afternoon.