It's gone: there remains a laptop cable, my mouse, my notebook -- but not my $1800 laptop. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I ask my co-workers where my laptop is. They look surprised and reply that they don't know. They talk swiftly in Swahili to one another, and by this time I know it is stolen, though I don't want to believe it.
It is around 1:30. I had stepped out for lunch, heading to a street meat vendor and then to my flat to watch T.V. I always leave my laptop and my other belongings on my desk during lunch; we also have 3 other laptops, 4 desktop computers, and other items of value. The office is quite secure and my co-workers stay there every day to eat lunch. I never thought that someone could waltz in during the middle of the day and make off with some property.
I slump down in a chair in the hallway, still in disbelief. Many thoughts run through my head. The report I'd been working on for three weeks is gone; all my personal photographs from the past 10 years are gone; what am I going to do for the next six months at work?; forget work, how am I going to entertain myself? I'll only have my books and the T.V. It will be like the 90s -- how depressing.
My co-workers (two elderly Zanzibari women) explain that while they were having chai mchana, two youths came in looking for TB shots. Our office oversees five front-line health facilities, but we don't offer any services here. At first they viewed these youths' request as odd, but now they see it as highly suspicious. My co-workers describe how, when the youth were refused TB shots and instead directed to the clinic, they asked for the cell phone number of a nurse whom they know. Our accountant then comes to the office to take me to the police station to make a report. My co-workers say they will go to the clinic to talk to that nurse and see if she knows the youths.
I walk to the police station to make a report, though I know it is futile. There are so many people living here, why would the police care about some foreigner's expensive computer? The accountant describes to the police the situation and the thieves. The police take my particulars and say they will call if they find out any information. I walk back home.
At home I change out of my work clothes, grab some cash, and head to a bar down by the beach. Not the best way of dealing with stress, but I can't just sit at home. I order a beer and sit outside. I try to read some of my book (The Sun Also Rises), but I'm too distracted. I'm mostly upset that I've lost the personal data from my computer. I keep all my photos on there, and I've now lost irreplaceable ones from the war, from my travels and from significant events in the past. Also on the computer is my journal, my financial records, past school work; thinking through everything that is lost, I start to feel stupid for not keeping a backup. I've never had a need in the past, but I reckon backups are one of those things you don't need until you do. I start to feel silly for how upset I am over losing a piece of electronics. What is a laptop in the grand narrative of life? I'm still alive, I'm living in what amounts to a beach paradise, and am now sitting but 10 metres from the Indian Ocean sipping a beer in the sun - and I'm letting a screen and a keyboard ruin my day.
Just as I'm starting to feel better about it all (or is it the beer?), I get a text on my phone:
"We have got thief and now chasing your laptop"
It's from the police. This makes me laugh for a few reasons: firstly, the police are texting me, a medium normally reserved for the banal; secondly, I am picturing a police officer sprinting through the streets of Stone Town literally chasing after my laptop as it scurries away (it must be the beer); but lastly, I laugh out of amazement that I may actually have it returned to me. Not five minutes later I receive a phone call from the police. They have the laptop and ask me to come back to the station.
When I get to the station I see my two co-workers and they recount their story to me. They are laughing and very animated telling me how they chased the thieves across the city. They had gone to the clinic to follow up with the nurse whom the youths had inquired about. The nurse told them that one of the young men is from Zanzibar but lives on the mainland. My co-workers thought that perhaps the thief would be trying to flee the island, so they hopped in a taxi and booked it to the ferry terminal.
They stood at the entrance to the ferry keeping an eye out for the thief. They spotted him and tried to block him from getting on, while yelling at him to give back the laptop. They tell me that the thief must have been quite shocked, because though he could easily have outrun my two elderly co-workers, he did not try to. The thief insisted he did not have the laptop and just wants to go home. My co-workers convinced him to get in a taxi and come to the police station. At the station, two officers got into the taxi with the thief and they all went to find the other young man that still had the laptop.
They finish recounting their story. The police officer brings in the laptop and has me verify that it is the correct one: it is. After some paperwork I leave to go home.
I am amazed that the police were able to recover it. In Canada, if one reports a stolen laptop, there is hardly a chance that it will be recovered. My co-workers acted quickly and were able to find the thieves, for which I am very fortunate and grateful.
This morning I backed up my data.
Wow. That was probably an emotional few hours. I definitely agree it is less about the hardware and more about the data. Excellent concluding sentence as well.
ReplyDelete"and I'm letting a screen and a keyboard ruin my day" - well put!
ReplyDeleteWow that's pretty amazing that your laptop turned up like that glad to hear we can continue reading up on your adventures like this Brian. Hope all is well.
ReplyDeletehaha, kind of bittersweet
ReplyDeletesure you're laptop was recovered, but it happened right at the moment when you were achieving awareness of how little your life actually depended on it
...still though, glad you got it back
I know how I'd feel about losing mine; afghanistan journals and pics alone would be shittay to lose
I really like that the police texted you.
ReplyDeleteOh, and that you got all your data back. Unbelievable.
Indeed an amusing and amazing story! Especially considering the implications of a similar occurence in Canada. Good read. And good job on the backup.
ReplyDelete-heather