Police dealings

Around three weeks ago my small pick-up truck -- the vehicle I use to earn my living -- was stolen.
It was parked behind a pallisade fence with a locked gate that can only be opened with a remote gate-opener. In addition a gear-lock was attached, as was an AA-approved steering lock.
That apparently meant jack-shit to the sleazeballs who stole it. They were obviously pros. It was as though the car had never been there. There was no sign of glass from a broken window, no marks on the gate...nothing!
Welcome to South Africa! I became just another crime statistic.
The theft was reported to the police but the fact is, in this country, you do not make a statement to the cops to give them details they need to investigate and recover your stolen property, you do it so they can give you a case number to fill in on the insurance claim-form.
The only way my bakkie will ever be found is if it miraculously gets pulled over in a random roadblock.
The detective has not yet visited the crime scene, but I hardly expected him to, if past police performance is anything to go by. Seven years ago, a friend was shot in the face, neck and arms, in what appeared to be a carjacking attempt. He spent over a month in hospital and is still waiting for a detective to take his statement.
But we haven't yet given up hope. The wheels of justice turn slowly in South Africa and I am confident, as soon as they have taken his statement, they'll turn their attention to recovering my car.

Being unfair

Perhaps I'm being unfair. In the nightmare that is getting all the documentation needed by the insurance company and having the stolen car removed from the provincial vehicle-register, I had to obtain a copy of the police statement.
I first accompanied an officer to the docket-storage room, where, together, we searched through the files of crimes listed during the month of May. My case was reported at around 08h30 on 1 May and was logged as "case number 16 of May 2010".
Now to put this in perspective, it was 10 days later that I was at the police station searching for my case docket and I was then already sifting through May cases numbered in the 600s. We had no luck finding the docket there, so next step was to see the detective assigned to the case. He was out -- hopefully investigating -- but we rifled through around 20 piles of dockets, each containing about 20 files that were piled on his desk as well as on the floor.
A quick mental calculation showed the man is investigating at least 400 cases!
Maybe the cops at the coal-face aren't completely inept. Perhaps the reason so few crimes are solved in South Africa is the investigators are drowning under a tidal-wave of crime and an avalanche of dockets.
And the situation is never going to improve, no matter what the smarmy Minister of Police and his equally slippery cronies say, or how vigourously they massage the crime figures they issue once a year.

Gravy Train

There appears to be no support from the upper levels of the police food-chain. The Gravy Train has left the station and the workers behind!
A case in point (that is absolutely true) is an incident where a friend, a few months ago, went to report a case of theft at a police station on the West Rand.
"The officers in the charge office were actually quite helpful and sympathetic," he says. "But they told me they were unable to take my statement, as nobody had a pen.
"There are no pens in the charge office at all? How do you take a statement then?"
"We borrow the complainant's pen -- if he has one."
"I couldn't believe what I heard," my friend says.
"In the end I went to a nearby stationary shop and bought a box of pens that I donated to the charge office. It was the only way I could get them to take my statement."
To some, that may appear a drastic course of action but in the scheme of things, the effort was worth it. He got his case number, listed it on the claim form and the insurance paid out.
So what that spiralling crime is causing insurance premiums to sky-rocket? That's the way it works in this fucked up country. Thinking about it will just make our heads hurt and cause our eyeballs to pop out. Much better we should continue to jam our heads up our butts and pretend the Soccer World Cup will benefit anyone other than the cronies and the chumwallies!
I won't be attending any World Cup games. I will be home, waiting for a call from the detective. I have it on good authority he's working on case 289 of June 2003 and plans to call me soon.