This happened in Johor Bahru. Permas Jaya.
Today.
It should not have been different from any other day. Mundane and repetitive, the agenda was the precise same. It was only 6:45am, so getting ready for work was still a good hour away, and i was blinking at my computer screen, eyes still heavy.
Sipping hot rose tea and surfing sleepily through the net, i jolted when my mum rapped frantically on my room door, yelling in a panicked, shaky voice.
“JUSTIN! Come quickly!! Someone is robbing papa!!!”
I flinched. what?
I yanked my door open and raced down the stairs, two steps at a time. My mum and my sister followed close behind. My mom was holding a broom. The situation was so real and yet unbelievably ridiculous. I ran out my front door and went out, and saw them.
There were four of them.
Two of them were on a motorbike behind my father’s white Iswara. 1 was on another bike on the far side. And one more was in front. I ran towards them, yelling. “WOI!” They turned to look at me. I opened my gate, bracing myself for whatever was going to happen in the next few minutes.
My dad was sitting in the car.
One side of his face was covered in blood. I froze. His neck and shoulder too. His driver-side window was smashed. Blood and glass everywhere. My dad’s white shirt was now maroon.
I looked at the bikes for half a second, but didn’t bother to remember the numbers - something about fake number-plates had flashed across my memory - i’d read it in the papers a few days ago. “The Johor Bahru robbers who hammered car windows”. Goodness. We were a current victim.
The man with the knife saw me coming towards him, and lifted his knife at me. He took a step towards me, shouting something incomprehensible. I think he was daring me to walk forward.
Before anything else could happen, his accomplice on the bike called at him, asking him to go. He scrambled onto the motorbike and they all sped off.
My dad was in shock. He sad there bleeding and breathing heavily. My mother and sister quickly rushed to his side, helping out of the car and carefully avoiding the glass which was everywhere. A lady who was next door slowly walked out, clearly shaken and looking quite regretful for not being able to do anything to help.
My dad’s face and neck had been cut by the shrapnel when the man broke the window. My dad shuffled into the house, dripping blood everywhere. We quickly went into the house to call 999.
A lady picked up. She calmly asked if the robbers were still there. They weren’t, of course. And so it wasn’t really an “emergency”. She said they would send over a patrol car as soon as possible.
We fussed around our dad, trying to calm him down. I was getting angrier by the minute.
This is what actually happened.
It was a holiday for my dad, and he had gotten into the car to go for a golf game. The car was parked just outside our house, as usual. When he got in, he locked the car and was about to start the engine, when he heard the bikes. Appearing out of nowhere (around the corner, my dad later said), the four men all had parangs (machettes), their faces hidden by motorbike helmets.
One man (the one who later held a knife at me) got off the bike and smashed my dad’s window with a hammer. He then produced a parang and held it to my dad’s throat. Yelling, (trying to scare my dad) he asked my dad to hand over his wallet. (My mom had heard these shouts coming from outside. That’s when she got us)
My dad calmly said he would, and reached for his pocket to get it. Another man took my father’s bag from the passenger side. My dad’s face and neck were already bleeding from the glass. My dad asked him to take all the cash but return his I.C. and license, but the man ignored him.
That was about when the three of us rushed out of the house. They sped off on their bike, leaving us in shock and disarray. The whole robbery happened in less than 1 minute.
The police took about 30mins to get to the scene. And between that time neighbours from around began to come over to ask what had happened, and offer their oh-so-valuable two cents. Where the hell were they when my father was held at knife-point.
Thank God my dad only suffered minor cuts from the glass (none went into his eyes). But there was quite alot of blood. The police took pictures of the car, and a statement from my dad and a “witness” who had appeared from nowhere - For crying out loud i didn’t even see that man anywhere earlier.
But my dad was safe. That was the only thing that really mattered.
I was supremely pissed. And now, in retrospect, I hate how I couldn’t do anything because there were four of them and all armed and crazy. I hate how I didn’t have a metal baseball bat and enough adrenaline to just bash all their heads in. THEY HURT MY DAD. And i couldn’t do anything to them. GOD, the injustice.
I mean. Go earn an honest freakkking living and DON’T ROB AN OLD GUY ON HIS WAY TO GOLF YOU BASTARDS.
But.
The amazing thing was how my dad had removed all his ATM cards, credit cards, and excess cash from his wallet before leaving the house. Therefore, the robbers had left with the measly sum of RM180.
Remember the bag they took from the passenger seat?
Filled with my dad’s clothes. suck on that bitches.
The CID also came to our house later on, taking more photos. They talked to my dad and said that if they ever caught the four robbers that all of us might have to come in to help identify them.
I hope the police catch them before they rob anyone else.
Please, whoever’s reading this. Be careful and always aware. Alert. Don’t carry too much cash around and don’t be alone in a secluded place if you can help it. It helps to have people around.
They are part of a gang who ride around looking for opportunities. They smash your car window with a hammer and threaten you with parangs. There’s little you can do unless you have 3-4 people to back you up. If that is so they wouldn’t even rob you in the first place.
and i hope those bastards get caught or get bashed up and crippled for life.
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