If you have been in the Joburg CBD often enough on foot, you may be familiar with the chilling echo of a word that slices through the streets – “Vimba!” The rallying cry that means “stop him”.
Vimba is more than just a command; it’s the soundtrack of survival. Picture this: a cunning dance orchestrated by thieves who thrive in the shadows of the city. They prey on unsuspecting marks with a method that leaves chaos in its wake, where distant friends and non-family members gather together to pay their last respects to you in case you perish.
Imagine a scenario where a predator, like a ghost, emerges from the city’s faint heartbeat, and singles you out. In close range, they brandish a pistol, then cock it to punctuate their silent threat. You’re now part of their twisted diversion – they need you to run, to scatter the pieces of your ordinary world.
But here’s the twist: it’s not just about theft. They snatch your phone, commanding you to flee as if your life depends on it. And as you sprint in confusion and fear, their partner in crime emerges. A sudden shout pierces the air – Vimba!
In an instant, the narrative transforms. You, the unsuspecting victim, become the accused. Bree Street becomes a stage, and the lines between criminal and prey blur into a chaos of motionless figures. The thieves, like elusive shadows, dissolve into the crowd – one up Rissik, the other down Joubert Street, leaving behind a cityscape where truth is a mere illusion, and danger lurks in the most unexpected corners.
This is the grim game of Vimba, where the line between justice and deception is as thin as the city’s heartbeat. There is no love there.
For the people, Vimba is the soundtrack of survival.
For the thieves, Vimba is not just about possessions; it’s a dark theatre, a performance scripted to keep the city’s inhabitants perpetually on edge.
For the reader, Vimba is predatory manipulation on a minute scale.
Now Imagine a powerful nation, driven by imperialistic ambitions, established in 1948, forcefully occupying Palestine. This mirrors predatory manipulation on a geopolitical scale. The invading nation, like a cunning thief, appropriates land through coercion and might. Subsequently, when the occupied Palestinian territories attempt to resist or regain its autonomy, the aggressor employs a strategic narrative of self-defence.
It’s as if the invader, having seized control, conceals its expansionist motives behind a façade of righteousness. The tables are turned and the occupier presents itself as the victim, distorting the reality of its initial act of aggression. That initial act of 1948, the Nakba.
The geopolitical dance reflects a twisted narrative where the invading nation becomes the usurper in the shadows and the illusory victim on the world stage. The parallels with predatory manipulation are evident – an initial act of seizing, followed by a manipulative narrative that clouds the truth, leaving the world to grapple with the deceptive dance of power on the global stage.
Saturday Star
@Rabbie_Wrote