Almost A Snatch Thief Victim

Coming back late from work was normal during my early working days as an executive in Serdang, about 40km away from where I live. But one night stood out from the rest – mostly quiet, uneventful nights – the night I was almost a snatch thief victim.

I had to take several public transports to and from work. In the morning, at about 6.45 a.m., I had to walk about 1km to the nearest bus-stop to take an Intrakota bus to the KL Railway Station. From there, I would take the Komuter train to Serdang and finally take a taxi to my office – often arriving at about 8.30 a.m.

Going back is another story altogether. I usually returned at 5.30 p.m., boarding a special bus which was arranged by a Multimedia College nearby to pick up and send their students back to the hostels in Sg Besi. I would stop at Sg Besi STAR LRT station, take an LRT to Masjid Jamek where I usually stopped to perform my Maghrib solat. Then, I would take a Putra LRT from Masjid Jamek to Paramount, the nearest LRT station to my home. I usually would have to wait for about a half hour before the Feeder bus started moving – thus normally I would reach home around 9.00 p.m., sometimes later than that.

That fateful night – I was later than usual, it was almost 10 o’clock when I stopped at the last bus stop. The last stretch of road I had to walk from the Feeder bus stop was shorter than the one I had to take in the morning to the Intrakota bus stop, but it was quieter and less busy. I always carried a large folded umbrella with me, in case I needed to use it during rainy days as well as for my personal protection. I am thankful that I had the good umbrella with me that night.

I was walking at my normal pace – which is considered rather fast to many – when I heard a motorcycle approaching from my back. I remember being quite perplexed by that since I knew that none of my closest neighbours owned any motorbike. Nevertheless, I just walked on since my house was just two blocks away and in clear sight.

Suddenly I felt my handbag was hardly tugged from the back. The man – olive-skin, probably in his mid twenties- on the motorcycle had tried to snatch my bag! I was holding it tightly, so he didn’t get it on the first attempt.

I was shocked and stood rooted. But when the motorcyclist made a u-turn and sped directly towards me, seemingly intense on hitting me and getting the bag, I suddenly found myself preparing to attack him. As he neared me for the second time that night, I fought him, whacking him hard with my umbrella a few times. He rode away. I ran away.

By then, all of a sudden feeling scared that he might be attempting another try to get my bag, I ran to my house, shouting “Bukak pintu! Bukak pintu!” (Open the door!). Two of my father’s adopted sons who were staying with us then, heard my shouts and quickly opened up the door. It went without saying that they were more than a bit puzzled to see an alarmed-and-panicky me panting at the gate. I turned back to check out whether or not the culprit was coming after me again. Alhamdulillah, to my great relief, he was no more in sight.

I was shaking as I retold my two adopted brothers about what just happened. They were surprised to find out that such snatch thieves were operating in our quiet and mostly peaceful neighbourhood. I was more terrified than shocked – what if he came back for revenge?

Only Allah knows how I gained the strength and quick reflexes to repeatedly hit the thief that night. I hit him – and his bike – so hard that my umbrella was damaged and could no longer be used. He tried to counter my blows but alhamdulillah I managed to run away before he could seriously hurt me.

I bought my green Kancil EZ850, my first car, about two months after the incident took place. An uncle and an auntie assisted me – loaning me the downpayment, so that I could drive and prevented such incident from re-occurring. I had been extra careful since that day, tried my best to arrive home before 9.00 p.m.

That man could have snatched my bag – with all my money, id documents, valuables and simply sped off, never to be seen again. Despite my initial shock when my bag was tugged the first time, some part of me knew that I could not, would not give in easily. I guess, after all the morning walks, after travelling so far to and from work trying to earn decent income, made me a braver person in protecting what’s rightfully mine. No such heartless thief should be let go easily. Such merciless person – who appeared intense at getting my bag no matter if he had to hit me in the process – should not get away free easily.

If he had managed to get my bag away with him that night, if I had let go without a fight – he wouldn’t only be taking away my money, my id and my valuables away – he would have also robbed me of my guts, pride and self-confidence.