40 Rands and more

‘Give me 40 Rands’
‘Why?’
‘We are poor. No money. You see I am eating this shit’ (holding two slices of white bread)
‘Sorry, but I can’t give you money just like that. Are you boys from Durban?’.

‘Yeah man, we are from Durban.’

‘This is my second day in Durban, actually in South Africa too. Think it’s a wonderful place’

‘He he, You are funny. So where are you from?’

‘India.’
‘Oh, You eat Chilly!’

‘He he, we do.’

‘I don’t like it man. It’s too hot for me’.
‘You have movies’
‘Yes, we have’

‘You dance’

‘Yes we do. For no reason sometimes (but only in movies)’


‘How old are you?’

‘I am 16, he is 17.’
‘You don’t go to school’?

‘No, but he studied still standard 9’

‘and then’?

‘Oh, I didn’t complete. Its shit man’
‘Are you working?’
‘Not any more. You see that supermarket (Woolsworth) over there? I was there. They asked me to leave’.
‘oh’.

 That’s when I got a call from home. I picked up the phone and we continued walking. The two boys were on either side of me, holding me, while we walked. I had met them ten minutes earlier as I was waiting for a taxi in front of Park Lodge Gardens on Berea Road in Durban. I decided to walk towards the trade fair venue where the INDABA was on. As soon as the boys accosted me and decided to walk with me holding my hands, warning bells from guidebooks to be careful while walking alone in South Africa and well meaning notices to avoid walking on freeways flashed in my head! But I guess they flashed a bit late!

As I walked with them, I tried to feel their hips to check if they were armed. I found myself smiling at the thought of how this sight might seem to the folks in the cars driving past- that of strange Indian tourist walking hand in hand, hips touching, with two black boys on the free way in gay abandon!


‘Hey, you have such a fancy camera and you won’t give us 40 Rands?’

‘Sorry?’

‘You are rich. Give me 40 Rands’

‘Boy, listen. Lets try to find a way through this’.
‘What you mean?’


‘I told you that I won’t give you money for nothing. I also come from a poor country. I also work with kids who find it difficult to study, earn. If I were you, I would be doing things in a different way. I told you that I am here for the first time and know nothing about your city. You seem to be knowledgeable and speak good English. So why not offer a walking tour for me, show me places and who knows may be I will be happy with your service and might even pay you more than 40 Rands’!



‘haha, you are funny man. Things don’t work like that here’.

During this whole conversation, I recalled the many discussions I had about 'Our Responsibility to Children' with Vijayan IPS, the ex-Police Commissioner of Calicut, and Dr. Suresh Kumar of Institute of Palliative Medicine where we offered to train some of the juvenile delinquents the police department arrested for stealing smart phones and motorbikes. They wanted to rehabilitate them to mainstream through socially innovative projects. The Blue Yonder had offered to provide training and capacity building for these students to become guides and interpreters. 



‘That has a camera?’
‘Yes. It has’

‘Can you take a photo of ours’?

‘Yes certainly. Let the three of us be in it’

‘Nice, it’s really looking good. Can I see?’

‘Sure, here you go’



He looked at it and shared it with his mate and gave it back to me. We continued walking and talking about India, and they kept telling me they don’t understand how Indians could eat so much chilly! 

By now we were closer to an area I was a bit more familiar as I had been there on a ‘City Walk’ with Doung, a Durban based architect and artist in the previous days.

‘Can I see that photo again?’

‘Sure’.

And that was the beginning of tension. The moment he had the phone in his hand, the boy who looked innocent and curious transformed into a beast. His eyes were so fearsome. His body language was making me uncomfortable. He slid the phone into this back pocket and asked his mate to walk fast to the right of the pedestrian bridge. I held them both in arms and said,


‘Guys, let’s talk’

‘There is nothing to talk. You walk away now’.

‘I am not walking away anywhere. We are going to talk’

‘Give him the phone man, let him go’ said his mate.

‘You shut up’ (or I presumed this is what he said in Zulu)


I kept on walking together with them and this time, both of them weren’t comfortable any more with the physical proximity. 



‘Why you walk like this? Go away.’


Confident (or being stupid as many said later) that they weren’t carrying any weapons, I continued talking to them. The boy with my mobile phone came towards me, came so close that I could smell his breathe on my face, said,



‘Take your wallet out’

‘You think I dare to walk around here with wallet in my trouser’ (stupid tourist blabbering !)


‘Are you going to fight with me?’
‘Yes’ and I went towards him. He ran towards the left of the bridge. The other boy looked apologetic, and even said sorry. He very slowly retracted his steps and walked away to ‘Doungs’ territory. 

I felt super foolish to have let this happened. I laughed at my own stupidity. I laughed again when I remembered that I was also a tour operator.

It took a while for me to realize that I had actually been conned so cleverly. In fact, I couldn’t figure out who had the phone finally! The boy who ran away quickly or ot the one who walked away apologetically? 

I sent an email from the other phone to Doung,



<< I just got mugged and the kids ran into the same street where we came walking with you. In case you manage to see a fancy HTC Desire HD, well, that could be mine :) If your connections with the community can help you recover it, you may as well use it for your projects. Quality is quite good for voice,video and visuals. 8mpixel camera and video is  HD.>>


to which he immediately responded 

<<Oh no this is terrible. I hope that you didn't get hurt. I will definitely put a word out there. Do you know which road it happened? Anyway yes lets do keep in touch and India is in my heart and I have been longing for her as soon as I left.>>

To let go the fancy phone was not so easy. But I continued walking feeling good about how I handled the situation. I didn’t panic, I didn’t become aggressive, I didn’t get shot at (I still do believe that they didn’t carry any weapons)

What surprised me the most was that I didn’t feel angry at all towards the boys or Durban or South Africa. Most of the time I was trying to put myself into the shoes of these kids with delinquent behaviour in Calicut and on how we could work creatively to bring them to mainstream. I felt even more connected to the idea of ‘compassionate city.’