Mob justice

(Warning - you may find this disturbing)

You know when you read novels set in ‘ye olde days’ and it is a brutally honest novel, showing how hard it was to live in those times with poverty and death hovering over everyone’s shoulder. Violence was astonishingly casual as people struggled to live, struggled to earn a penny and have food to eat and still try to find some enjoyment out of life; life was cheap. There are scenes in which mobs form to watch men hang for serious and not so serious crimes. There are scenes where mobs form in order to attack a thief, a trickster or an innocent accused of something. Mob justice; it’s a scary thought.
It would appear that it still exists here in Africa. People still live in great poverty and that seems to leave a well of emotion that can be reached into at any point and life is cheap in so many ways. I had heard stories and I’ve seen it more than once. A man and woman walking down the street; the man is propelling the woman by her shoulders and she looks in pain and scared. Words are shouted to a group of young men loitering on the side of the street and suddenly they stream towards the pair and start to push them both around, with great force. As the traffic moves forward and I lose sight of them the crowd is growing larger with people running from all sides to join in and the pushing has become kicking and punching. I feel sick all the way home and for some time after. Mob justice.
Yesterday as we filled up at a petrol station we saw a man running as if his life depended on it, pushing past people who got in his way and followed by a shouting crowd of young men which was joined by more by-standers with every moment that passes. They went around the corner and we couldn’t see them anymore but that sick feeling returned. Mob justice.