Security

14^th Feb, 2011

I’m not quite sure how to feel, about to sleep inshAllah in this Bryanston house, perched on the first floor, the ground floor secure, the stairwell terribly secure with inch wide solid metal bars hacked shut by a heavy padlock.

Up here, in the king size bed of foam, perched on the wall is a small dvd player, on its own little custom made stand, wired into the alarm system, flashing scenes from the four cameras which cover the entrance gate, the front door, the back yard and the parking area. What a nightmare it must be to have insomnia, and to lie here watching the grim grainy black and white images switch so clumsily to each other.

A moth flies before the lens, hogging the limelight, shamelessly.

Whilst I was cooking my spinach earlier, I looked down and noticed my armour. On my upper chest lay my tawiz, protection from Shaykh Nazim, the prayer inscribed within the sewn leather triangle. Further down, around navel height, dangled the panic button, hung from an unattractive, cheap silver chain. And at my ankles, lay the lovely Ms S, pit bull terrier, more sweetheart than any pit pull I have imagined. Probably the dog with the finest manners in Johannesburg, aside from her rancorous farting.

So I am not sure what to feel up here in this bedroom. With all the security I wonder if I should suspect some horror has already occurred here? I do not know this area, have only heard of too many robberies, too many hideous home invasions (they don’t call them home invasions here – I’m not sure those orgies of torture and pillage have their own title as yet). The spectre of events I have heard or read about hover in my mind, this being a wealthy area. I have no desire to live here, in the north, where apparently beauty only resides within homes, the pavements merely a supporting role to the high electric fences.

This screen on the wall sends its tired message into this room, and I wonder what my mind will think of tonight. I wonder what I will dream in this new room, this house where I have had so much emotional discomfort in the last month. InshAllah, I will sleep deeply, and the dreams that come my way will continue to inform me, to teach me and remind me. InshAllah. To choose not to plug into the house’s personal fear matrix will free my sleep tonight, so, I push down the little screen with its grainy images, the dull light leaves the room, g’nite. ….