Socien's Blog

One day, a rural farmer (the villager) decided to withdraw all his funds from the bank. He had been mulling over a plan that necessitated the use of his entire savings accumulated over many years. He travelled to the capital city, which was 370 miles away from his village, to reach the main branch of his bank where his savings were maintained and invested. The bank efficiently processed his request and informed him to return the next morning to collect his money.

As dawn broke and the sun emerged from the fading morning clouds, the villager made his way back to the bank. The bank expressed its concern about the risk of robbery in the city, especially for clients withdrawing large sums. Therefore, the bank advised the villager to return the next day to complete his withdrawal. But this was not listened to.

“Sir, you might want to think about taking a taxi,” then suggested a bank employee to the villager, her cautious demeanour evident as she clasped her hands in front of her. “We can facilitate your departure through a discreet exit that leads to an underground car park beneath our building. We aim to ensure the entire process is seamless for you.”

Disregarding the bank’s advice, the villager exited through the main entrance. A thief, who had been inside the bank observing the transactions, followed him discreetly. Determined and relentless, the thief’s sole objective was to rob the villager of his money.

We have two characters here:

• The Villager • A man who cannot take any advice. Who then must become a victim thanks to his unwillingness to take advice. The urbanscape is not his usual terrain of operation.
• The Thief • A man with nothing to lose who takes time to observe before making his strike at the gold. Except his gold is in some people’s wallets. He is familiar with the urbanscape and the town is his playground.

The thief’s twin tactics involved isolation and chaos. For isolation, he bided his time for a moment when his target might enter a restroom or find himself in a sparsely populated area to snatch the cash bag. As for chaos, this approach was to be employed in a bustling environment where he could incite a disturbance; perhaps by tossing a faux rubber snake to provoke panic, seize the bag amidst the ensuing screams, and then blend into the very crowd to make his escape.

Despite the thief’s persistent efforts, the villager remained vigilant. Unfazed by the commotion when the fake snake was thrown, he did not succumb to the crowd’s panic. He also steered clear of public restrooms and overly crowded areas until he safely got on a bus.

With the stakes elevated, the thief escalated his efforts and got on the same bus as the villager. The bus departed from the city, making stops at smaller towns and various bus stations en route. The villager remained on board, not alighting at any stop for a break until he reached his final stop. By the time he disembarked, night had fallen, and a veil of mist lent a ghostly hue to the already dark, moonless night sky.

The thief trailed behind. The stealer had came a long way to give up easily. Something had to be done now that the victim had entered an environment that could isolate him. The rural footpaths were so tight, meandering more than necessary. The thief had no means to see what would be very much ahead.

“Now or never!”

The thief considered closing in on his target to seize the bag. However, the villager was on high alert, aware of the thief’s presence even before boarding the bus. Knowing he had to act, the villager realized that calling out for help might only escalate matters. The most effective assistance he could count on was the silent, self-reliant kind he could provide himself.

As the thief rounded a bend that momentarily hid his target from sight, he spotted a silhouette seemingly hunched over, akin to someone tying their shoelaces. “That must be him,” the thief surmised, hastening toward the shape. But an unexpected turn awaited him. A donkey, with blades of grass hanging from its lips, unleashed a cinematic-worthy double kick directly at the thief’s chest. And with that, the tale reached its conclusion.

At times, we pursue our ambitions beyond the landscapes and surroundings we know well. Even when signs point to the unfeasibility of our endeavors, we often ignore them and press on. In the thief’s case, such persistence was not just futile; it turned out to be fatal. His ribcage gave way, a rib piercing the diaphragm, leading to his instantaneous demise due to internal bleeding and suffocation.

In an unexpected twist of fate, the villager’s life and lifelong savings were preserved by an unforeseen event. The donkey, though not an ally, inadvertently became a saviour with its lethal double kick, thwarting the malevolent intentions aimed at the villager. It’s a reminder that even in times of apparent helplessness, perseverance is key. Salvation may come from the most unlikely sources, and when it does, one must be ready to embrace the aid that chance provides. Just as the donkey intervened, so too might we find our rescue amid adversity, often in the form of familiar elements that we must recognize and utilise.

Except: This is based on a true story: The thief was finally buried in the area. This happened in Eastern Zimbabwe in Mutasa-Pafiwa. As you read through you will find a story with some inspiring words. This is the story of the thief and the villager.

Credit for the story goes to Caston Tafamombe!