It has been more than two weeks since that incident. Time may fly ever so fast, now that I realize it, but it will take more than weeks for me to truly come to terms with it.
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It was 7.01 am, Thursday, 12 June 2014.
I was glancing at my phone, silently thanking Allah for school holidays. I am already late, but there was I clutching my pumping bag, munching oat choc chip cookies and smiling to myself as I head to my car.
I read some whatsapp messages from a close friend and my sister. One was talking about baby sitter, and my sister was updating me on what her baby was up to. I wanted to reply their messages, but decided against it. And started to drive.
Thank You Allah for smooth traffic, I said to myself along the way to Taman Bahagia LRT. Leaving house at this time usually would mean very late return to home by the end of the day, but I was so sure I'll make it early somehow. Eat in, maximise working time.
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7.48am.
I pushed the gear to park mode. Glancing at the car clock, and whipped out my phone. Quickly replied "hahaha" as a respond to my sister's message, put on steering lock and made my way out of the car. Quickly stashed my phone inside the pumping bag.
I usually park at the roadside, just next to houses. A lot of commuters park there as well. Safety in numbers right? I had done enough assessment, having years of safety lectures from my dad and to top it off, I'm working in a department that overlooks personnel well being, and environment conditions. Surely I know better than to park at deserted area, or return home late and dark, or being distracted by Instagram notifications. I always make it a point to check which car still has its driver in it, what car is moving. I don't wear any jewellery (cos I can't fit it em, plus it's not baby friendly anyway) and I don't own expensive looking watch. I never would engage my brain in serious thinking while I walk to and fro my car.. it's too dangerous because I wouldn't be alert to notice anything amiss.
So of course I could see it coming.
A white Perdana.
Stopped beside me, and out came a guy wielding a parang.
At me.
Only I had nowhere to go.
I really had seen danger coming, but quick brain processing tells me
a. I can run. But I will be manhandled. The guy came from the passenger door, surely there is a driver as well.
b. I can jump. But I will break my leg. And still the danger will pile up.
A million things run through my mind as I screamed for life. Images of my then 6 months old baby, my smiling husband, my parents flashed before me. The guy did not need to tug so hard, I was already trembling. Losing any defense I could ever hope my years of both Tae Kwon Do and Karate would provide.
At that point, no amount of pepper spray would help. Only inconsiderate nincompoop would ever ask that.
I know the basics of self defense in these situations: attract attention, attract attention and don't ever stop. Well, let me add more for you: try move to more visible area, where people can see you, and try minimizing more injury.
Now, can you tell me if you'll be able to remember these simple steps had it been you in my shoes that time?
I professed Allah is the One and Only God, and Prophet Muhammad is my Creator's Prophet as I screamed loudly, and slowly fall to the ground.
In my mind he has parang in his hand, so the amount of injury he can cause is unimaginable (but I'm sure you can spell it out). So what I could do was scream, toss and turn. Scream. Toss. Turn. With my eyes closed. Why close? Because I was afraid he will kill me if I had seen his face.
Don't go all "you need to make eye contact with the perpetrator" when the guy has a parang. Seriously, that is stupid because you never know what are in these sick losers have in mind. Don't bother trying to get their physical appearance in your memory, because you never know if you'll live, and do you really think police will get a firm cuff on their hands?
I didn't know how long did the horrible incident last. But I could recall seeing the driver's face few minutes before they sped off. I remember trying to get up quick as I can because I was trembling in the middle of a road. I noticed my backpack was still intact, and it's heavy indicating the company's laptop are still in there. But one thing is missing.
I saw my Medela Freestyle bag strap being stripped. Only that strip was there. The bag and its content were no where in sight. I was shaking, I was screaming.. I was hurt. I was everything all at once. I got up, and saw a guy walked by.
Perfectly in bliss, unaware of what just happened. Bless him.
I did not go to him because he's obviously on his way to work, plus he's a stranger. After seconds of being roughed up by an unknown useless piece of shit, obviously I wasn't gonna talk to just anyone.
I started running and screaming on the street.. because I realize those losers will come back once they find out they have only managed to steal my precious milk expressing friend, and my priceless memories of my life kept in a handphone.
Most of the houses on that street keep dogs, and yeah each and every were barking at me. Me, the victim.
Yes, I am now part of the snatch theft statistics. Among few that is lucky enough to not sustain injury, and most importantly still is breathing. I shall continue the rest of the story in another post. But for now, let me just tell you, each time I think of this episode, or when it haunts me, I shiver uncontrollably.
It was in broad daylight.
Some people did saw and hear me.
I was well aware of what's going to happen.
This is my story, and I pray you won't ever experience it.
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