January 04, 2006
Crime, the beloved Country
Re(d)patriation

Had the security at Johannesburg International Airport been halfway as sophisticated as the security get-up here at my sister’s house in Stellenbosch, no one would ever have managed to steal even a luggage tag, let alone my entire laptop.

Electrified fences that serve as a fantastic insect repellent fortify the farmhouse. Every once in a while tiny sparks fly in the night as yet another spider or mosquito meets a shocking, spectacular demise. We witness those mini-executions in live broadcasts beamed onto the computer and television screens via several strategically placed close-circuit cameras.

If one of the unlucky victims happens to be on the bigger side of the entomological spectrum, it sets off a deafening and intricate domino effect: first the alarm wails throughout the house, which in turn throws everyone into a panicked frenzy. This leads to a security van rumbling up the farm road to inspect the cause of the alarm-trigger.

I know all of this, because on New Year’s Eve, shortly after sneaking into the house in the middle of the night, I was shocked into sobriety when the alarms began sounding. According to the security guard who showed up in the van some time later, the intruders appeared to have been an entire family of arachnids, who had tried and failed to make the fence their new neighbourhood for 2006. All that remained of their foolish move was a scorched, torn cobweb; its tattered remains tragically stirring in the breeze… At least the other insects in the vicinity had some fireworks to ring in the New Year and the barbecued carcasses of their former neighbours to snack on!

There are also gates that work with remote controls. Twenty years ago, I served as both the television and farm gate remote control in our household! See how technological advances are robbing today’s children of working for their room and board?

But if you think the outside security is impressive, you’ll think the indoor security resemble something hitherto only seen in James Bond movies. Once the gate IN the house (a necessity in most South African farmhouses, where it goes by the comforting name of “rape gate”) is locked at night, it separates the bedrooms and bathrooms from the living areas in the house.

Those living areas unfortunately include the kitchen. I say ‘unfortunately,’ because this means that, unless I dramatically improve my cat burglary skills – not very likely, since that will mean that I’ll have to become somewhat flexible, and in case you don’t remember, I’m so stiff, I can hardly lift a finger – I’ll be unable to get to the kitchen and a midnight snack. But I have to say, thanks to the rape gate and those high and low and crisscrossed laser beams separating me from the food, I have already lost about ten pounds since coming back from the States.

Perhaps we can turn it into the next diet and exercise craze? Security companies could make infomercials (because infomercials can now unfortunately be seen on South African television as well): “Allow us to install a rape gate between you and your kitchen! Eventually you’ll be so skinny, you’ll be able to make it out between the bars!”

And: “Are you a security AND fitness conscious South African? Then allow us to install our state of the art, high tech laser beam alarm system in your home, a STEAL at just half a million Rand per square centimeter AND we’ll throw in our new exercise DVD, “The Laser Beam Limbo” FOR FREE! Our hunky fitness trainer/security guard will show you how to limbo your way to a lithe and limber frame in a few complicated maneuvers! Trip up, and you’ll trip the alarm and risk waking the whole neighbourhood!”

The more adventurous can sign up for the Scale a Security Fence course. For a few extra thousand Rand, and to help you improve your climbing speed, they’ll even electrify the fence for you.

I just figure that since we have to live behind bars in this country anyway, we might as well look fantastic doing it!


Redsaid | 08:30 AM