It’s 1:05am in the night.

According to my 11:00pm plan, I was waiting for this time so that I can just get into my bed and cry…oh how I was really looking forward to a good cry.

Instead, I am up eating like a queen and drinking soup, tea, water…everything that a nursing mother can drink to ensure sufficient milk supply. Then a thought has just struck me, why not blog?

So, why had I intended this time to be used for crying purpose?

Because my house has been buzzing with activity the last few hours, and as the police were asking me to tell them the cost of my rings, phones etc, I was just looking forward to the moment they would leave so I can CRY.

Because, my dear readers, we have been robbed. Tonight. Actually, we have been invaded by thugs. And this is not a work of fiction.

I cannot remember the exact time, but I had just had a fight with my three-year-old who had refused to sleep unless I take her to sleep in my bed. Earlier on, we had fought because she had refused to eat unless I feed her. So I just sent her to the sofa to relax as I took some tea while chatting on Whatsapp.

Her two cousins who are visiting with us went to bed, followed by my househelp. The house was pretty quiet so I heard the “gate-man” ( I shall refer to him as such in this post, generally he handles the compound work in our home) open the gate and something very unfarmiliar happened; I heard a loud wail as soon as the gate was opened.

I sprung to my feet and locked the front door as I called a neighbour who recently told me her hubby was followed home by thugs on his way from the airport, asking her to call security. I had to stand by the door because I well guessed there must be thugs who had followed my hubby home. I knew delaying to open that door could mean him getting hurt, so I tried to make the phonecall in the five seconds before they got to the door but I must have been so shaken because her husband who answered the phone just kept asking “What? What?”.

At the same time, my husband was at the door calling out,

“Sweetie, please open this door, and listen, do not panic, sawa? ”

Oh my goodness, how he mustered such calmness I will never understand. I also heard him instruct the gate-man to co-operate. The impatient thug pointing a gun to his head was at the same time shouting at me,

“FUNGUA HII MLANGO!” (Open this door)

Whether it was a real gun or a fake-gun we will never know, but let us be glad that we did not experience the testing of that. Yeey, thank You Jesus!

So I opened the door and ran to the bedroom.

Thief followed me to the bedroom. Apparently, we all ran to the same bedroom, my househelp and one 13-year-old cousin who had not fallen asleep. I saw her get under the bed as the thug asked me to hand over the phone and not call anyone if I want peace. As I did, he noticed my rings. Dude has a good eye for gold…he asked for them, no, he grabbed my hand to remove them. I told him I would remove them for him and oh my I have never removed rings so fast! Forget vaseline, forget soap…the rings came off so effortlessly tonight! As I did, i was asking him to be quiet because I had babies sleeping. I kept repeating that….he obliged and whispered as he took my laptop and my very cherished and expensive camera. This thief was not dumb, I must say, he looked at my phone and imediately ordered me to deactivate iCloud. At gun-point, I had to.

I was watching for my handbag on the sofa, with all my ATMs, but thief was in a hurry. Another one was in the master bedroom with my still calm hubby ransacking the drawers for cash and jewellery. The other one was reversing the car. In less than 30 seconds they were done stealing our phones and the other portable valuables…but the idiot reversing the car got mixed up and got stuck in the driveway, so they ordered my dear hubby to drive them out, they were afraid if they took seconds longer the security guys would arrive.

Watching my hubby drive off with the thugs was the most tormenting moment of the experience. I figured they would use his car to carjack other people or steal from other homes. As soon as they were out I took my spare phone and dialled 999. Bless our police, they answered the phone! I quickly took them through the episode and described the car and told them to find my husband. But my spare-phone had no airtime, luckily there was one more worker in the servants’ quarters and the thugs had not gone there. I took his phone and called the one person who I know would never fail to pick my call at any time; my dad. I asked to be sent airtime. I used it to call a friend of my hubby in the hope that he would help in looking for him. At that moment, all I wanted was to find my husband. The car, they could keep, but my husband, noooooooo, not even scratch him!

Next I saw my husband, he was driving into the compound followed by the police.

As my husband later explained to the cops, the thugs had him drive them to the next house where they saw a car enter, but they backed off when they realized the car was a taxi. They asked him to drive them slowly because they were watching out for other opening gates so they could get in and rob. They then asked him to drop them in a dark place and off to the woods they took! He drove directly to the police station.

Bless the LORD oh my soul!

Instead of crying, I have been thinking. My first thought was that we should move from this area. I know you want to know where I live but that is not helpful because anywhere you live in your own compound, the script could replay. God forbid. I then thought a gated community would be the best place, but that gate-man could as well be handled, these thugs come with enough personnel I realized! Next I thought to move into a flat…but then I thought, that is not the ultimate security, people do get carjacked driving to their flats, and thieves do break in! I am not here to discourage anyone from living in own-compounds or to make you dis-trust the efficiency of your gate-men or to fear driving in your own cars (hey, I have ever been robbed walking in the streets of Kayole). So I settled into one thought; security belongs to The LORD. And He will restore what the enemy has stolen. Amen? So relax, you can live anywhere you deem best and leave your safety to God,because none of our human measures are enough.

Next thought…

“This must have happened to me because I have sinned, as a punishment!”

Can you believe it? This thought had the audacity to creep into my harassed brain.For a moment there, I was sure I was being punished for my sins. Then I thought, God does not function like that, I surely should know better! Even if He did, I surely have several more rights than wrongs, so He would be blessing me with bountifuls if my actions were directly proportional to His blessings.

He is a God of grace.

I am blessed that my children and their younger cousin did not wake up during the ordeal, because the trauma they would be nursing now would have sent me to depression. I am grateful that my husband was not injured, I would not have wanted to spend tonight staring at bandages in Nairobi Hospital. I am glad that the driver-thief got mixed up driving out, otherwise I would also be reporting a missing car! I am glad that I am not stressed up (at least for now) so I can blog and pray for my sleeping household. I am glad that the thieves did not see my iPad, so I can still access internet and I can type, though it is not easy (oh sobs, I miss my laptop). I have lost all pictures of blogs I intended to write, but hey, it is well. Even though I am sad that my husband’s laptop has years of his architectural work, I am glad that his brain is still intact and thieves can never steal his brilliant thoughts and ideas and memories. And his talented hands are intact, he can design again, newer and better! And my prayers are with him, God’s grace shall be sufficient.

LESSON LEARNT: Have everyone in your household save the security personnel/police contacts in their phones. One could make a property-saving call! However, be careful, the thugs who invaded our home had one watch-dog stationed outside, if they could have been alerted that we have called the police on them, who knows what they would have done in their last moments of freedom?





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