I was staying alone. A young single woman, in her mid twenties.
My two bedroomed flat occupied the second floor of the BHC multi residential houses in Phase 2, opposite the CBD. It comprised a small kitchen, a living room and 2 balconies, one outside the kitchen, the other, by my bedroom.
I had deliberately chosen to stay here for its relative safety. My reason being, reaching the second floor would be a lot of effort for would be offenders.
I was wrong.
One night I was sitting on my bed, between 12 and 1 in the wee hours, folding and packing my laundry. I still remember my scrisp clean off-white bed sheet covering the mattresses. The bed cover and all other bed decorations had been put aside, blankets opened, ready for my exhausted body.
Packing done, I dashed to the kitchen for a last cup of water. But then decided against going straight to bed afterwards but instead watched TV for a while, in the lounge, while also quenching the midnight thirst
About 15 minutes later I was at my bedroom door.
And on my crisp clean off white sheet, was a huge shoe print. Close to it was my open wallet and business cards strewn all over the bed.
I ran for the door and knocked on the adjuscent house.
‘Matsieng’ had taken my cell phone and last P20.
My neighbours escorted me as I packed an overnight bag and were also kind enough to let me use their phone to call my sister and the cab.
I lived with her family for a week, to recover and to also allow time for burglars’ bars installation on balconies, doors and every possible high risk spot.
I returned to a prison. But discovered I could not live alone anymore.
I had been violated.
Does one ever return to normalcy?