When Paradigm Shift, an NGO that does entrepreneurship training, asked us to distribute a flyer for them to small and informal businesses in Khayelitsha and Mitchells Plain, we jumped at the opportunity.
It was a chance for us to explore not only Khayelitsha and Mitchells Plain as distribution territories, but also to test logistics of distributing to the hundreds of informal traders that line the main streets of Khayelitsha and the Mitchells Plain town centre every Saturday.
We learned a lot on the first Saturday, and had to adjust our normal pricing of R360 per thousand for the second round the following weekend.
All went well for most of the day, but at half past three we got a call that we've always been dreading. One of our excellent distributors, Dumiso Jita, phoned to say that he's been held up at gunpoint. Two youngsters robbed him of his wallet in broad daylight in the busiest street in Khayelitsha, Govan Mbeki Avenue (previously Lansdowne Ave).
Fortunately, he wasn't hurt, and they didn't find his phone. They also weren't interested in our GPS unit that Dumiso carried around his neck on a lanyard. It's good to know that it doesn't seem to have any resale value in the eyes of muggers, at least for these two.
At the Harare police station we were shocked to hear the police officers on duty at the charge office try to persuade Dumiso not to open a case of armed robbery, because chances were very small that they will be caught. We stood our ground, arguing that, at the very least, we had a duty as citizens to have the incident officially recorded so that the police generals get an idea of the exact levels of crime in Khayelitsha so that police resources can be properly deployed. I get the impression that the police routinely try to dissuade people from opening cases so that the official crime stats look better than they really are. Who are they trying to fool? The politicians? Certainly not the people of Khayelitsha who live with the impact of rampant crime every day.
So what do we do in future when we get orders for distribution in Khayelitsha? I'm not sure. I certainly don't want to send my colleagues into areas where their lives are in danger. What I do know is that we won't expect any of the distributors to go into Khayelitsha if they don't want to.
Dumiso, who lives in Khayelitsha, says he doesn't mind taking on more jobs there. They never cease to amaze me, our distributors. They walk 25 km a day, in rain, wind and the blazing sun, and they do so with enthusiasm and a spirit that seems unbreakable.
Thank you, Dumiso.
It was a chance for us to explore not only Khayelitsha and Mitchells Plain as distribution territories, but also to test logistics of distributing to the hundreds of informal traders that line the main streets of Khayelitsha and the Mitchells Plain town centre every Saturday.
We learned a lot on the first Saturday, and had to adjust our normal pricing of R360 per thousand for the second round the following weekend.
All went well for most of the day, but at half past three we got a call that we've always been dreading. One of our excellent distributors, Dumiso Jita, phoned to say that he's been held up at gunpoint. Two youngsters robbed him of his wallet in broad daylight in the busiest street in Khayelitsha, Govan Mbeki Avenue (previously Lansdowne Ave).
Fortunately, he wasn't hurt, and they didn't find his phone. They also weren't interested in our GPS unit that Dumiso carried around his neck on a lanyard. It's good to know that it doesn't seem to have any resale value in the eyes of muggers, at least for these two.
At the Harare police station we were shocked to hear the police officers on duty at the charge office try to persuade Dumiso not to open a case of armed robbery, because chances were very small that they will be caught. We stood our ground, arguing that, at the very least, we had a duty as citizens to have the incident officially recorded so that the police generals get an idea of the exact levels of crime in Khayelitsha so that police resources can be properly deployed. I get the impression that the police routinely try to dissuade people from opening cases so that the official crime stats look better than they really are. Who are they trying to fool? The politicians? Certainly not the people of Khayelitsha who live with the impact of rampant crime every day.
So what do we do in future when we get orders for distribution in Khayelitsha? I'm not sure. I certainly don't want to send my colleagues into areas where their lives are in danger. What I do know is that we won't expect any of the distributors to go into Khayelitsha if they don't want to.
Dumiso, who lives in Khayelitsha, says he doesn't mind taking on more jobs there. They never cease to amaze me, our distributors. They walk 25 km a day, in rain, wind and the blazing sun, and they do so with enthusiasm and a spirit that seems unbreakable.
Thank you, Dumiso.
