The Pride of a Gunman!
The Pride of the Gunman and his False Faith in his Firearm!
Psalm 44:6: “I will not put faith in my bow, my sword will not be my salvation.”
It was a beautiful day in Cape Town and I had some money on me; my friend Dion aka Curly (now deceased) was with me on that day and we decided to go visit some friends in Bokmakierie, Athlone. Curly and I had been best friends for a long time. Even right from the beginning since I started the Ugly American gang in Bonteheuwel in the early 1980s Curly was with me. He had a nice bushel of thick shiny black curls on his head, hence the nickname “Curly”. He was very handsome, with a lot of charisma, fearless and extremely intelligent; he was quite infamous in the underworld and very popular with the women. There was an uncanny mental understanding between the two of us and we always knew what to do whenever we were in a sticky situation.
The men at that house in Bokmakierie “raised” me in the underworld and I was almost like family to them. Many men in the Ugly American gang in Cape Town came to that address and brought money, drugs, wine, guns, etc. That home was not just a place to smoke, drink and party, but it was also a “high place” for the Americans. It was like a soul tie was established in the spirit realm with this address and everybody always had to bring their offerings to the altar of the Americans.
Bokmakierie was a small township located next to Hazendal, actually the two was almost like one township with no clear-cut boundaries. It was almost like a “rich man, poor man” type of situation and you see the difference when you cross only one street. On the one side you have the municipality rented houses, the drugs, the alcoholics, the shebeens, the gangsters, the unemployment and on the other side were the quiet upper class property owners. When Curly and I arrived in the “Kierie” (as it is more popularly known amongst the people) the Americans immediately knew that we were there and while we was still busy greeting FB two other friends who had heard of our arrival also pitched up. All four of us went into FB’s room and Curly and I were glad to finally relax after our train journey from the City Bowl. As we settled in the room I took out some money and I gave some to one of the guys to buy drugs and I gave the other friend some money to buy a case of beer.
We were sitting in the back room chatting away and waiting for the guy whom we sent to go and buy two Mandrax tablets and a stick of Dagga. The back room is semi-attached to the outside toilet, which is attached to the main house. The back room is constructed of wood and Aluminum sheets and the two older brothers, FB and AB, shared this room as their living quarters. On this particular day FB was at home and AB was at work. The guy who had bought the case of beer had already returned and we were busy drinking when our other friend returned from the drug dealer with the drugs and he handed it over to Curly who immediately started to prepare to clean and mix the Mandrax tablets and the Dagga. Curly and I had already enjoyed a few early morning beers in a Bar in the City where we played few games of Pool before we came to Bokmakierie. As we were talking the cunning FB noticed from the way that I was sitting that I had a gun on me and so he asked me if he could see it. I lifted up my shirt and took out the small .22 caliber semi-automatic pistol, but I first removed the magazine before I handed the pistol to him and I explained to him that I needed to get myself a new magazine, because this magazine was old and faulty. I told the group that a businessman that I knew called me one day and shared with me that one of his former employees is doing a lot of damage to his property at night. Every morning when he woke up he found that someone had deliberately damaged his vehicles and when he began to do some investigating he found out that it was one of his employees that he had recently fired. This businessman said to me that he will provide me with a gun and bullets if I should agree to shoot this other man; I immediately agreed and on that same day he handed over to me that gun and a magazine filled with bullets. I never really had any intention of shooting that other man, I only agreed with him because at that moment I did not have a gun and I desperately needed a gun because at that time our gang was very much involved in gang warfare. This businessman was not aware of my motives, because he certainly expected me to shoot this other man who has been giving him so much grief. I’m a man who does not like to be manipulated or controlled by other people and there was absolutely no way how I was going to be persuaded to be a hit man to go and shoot someone whom I personally have no conflict with.
A brief description below from Wikipedia about the semi-automatic handgun’s loading mechanism….
“A semi-automatic pistol is a type of handgun which uses a single chamber and barrel, with a mechanism powered by the previous shot to load a fresh cartridge into the chamber. One round is fired each time the trigger of a semi-automatic pistol is pulled. A revolver, which uses multiple chambers and a single barrel, and a derringer, which uses multiple chambers and multiple barrels, also fire one round for trigger pull, but achieve this in different ways and as such are not classified as being semi-automatic. A semi-automatic pistol harnesses the energy of one shot to reload the chamber for the next, typically via recoil operation, blowback, or gas operation. After a round is fired, the spent casing is ejected and a new round from the magazine is loaded into the chamber, allowing another shot to be fired as soon as the trigger is again pulled.”
Anyway, on a previous occasion when I was shooting with the gun I discovered that the springs in the magazine were faulty and a little bit rusty, because of neglect. When you want to reload your gun you will cock the gun then the top mechanism, the breech, of the gun moves to the back, which opens up the chamber. The springs in the magazine releases the top bullet into the chamber, but in this case, because of the faulty springs the bullet does not properly enter into the chamber then you cock the gun again to try and get the bullet into the chamber. However, your second action actually releases another bullet which causes the two bullets to get stuck trying to get into a chamber which was only designed to house one bullet at a time. The consequences are that the gun becomes jammed up and you cannot fire a shot! I knew that before I get into such a situation I desperately needed to replace the magazine. It is amazing that this businessman wanted me to kill somebody with a gun that nobody actually cleaned and looked after, which is very dangerous to the gunman who is handling the gun! In the underworld I have heard of a few men whose faulty guns caused their downfall. I was always a cautious man and I did not envision such an outcome for me.
It was now late afternoon after much beer and many drugs we were still sitting in the back room and partying and by now we were a little bit more intoxicated but not drunk yet. Suddenly FB’s mother practically burst through the front door and yelled at us with panic and worry in her face that some gangsters had just stabbed AB, as he came from work! Immediately all five of us jumped up and rushed outside to see what was happening; AB was walking briskly toward us holding his knife in his right hand by the side, but I couldn’t really see any blood on him and we only learned later that this gang had confronted him and he had actually stabbed one of them. My toes kindled a little in my shoes as I saw this gang of between 30 to 40 armed men following AB and moving towards us. The name of this local gang was the Weekend Spoilers and they were thirsty for American blood! I knew immediately there was no other way how the situation was going to be resolved, except by blood. I took out the gun and I pointed it at them. I knew this to be a violent gang and they were not going to be deterred by one gun; they had a greater advantage of numbers over the five of us. They stopped in their tracks when they saw the gun…. but only briefly and then they gathered more courage and moved towards us again shouting their war cries!
I cocked the firearm and fired off my first shot chest high into the midst of the bloodthirsty mob. The noise of the .22 was not as deafening as a Magnum .45 or a 9mm Parabellum and yet the bullet sent them scattering and diving for cover. I quickly, but strategically fired off two consecutive shots just to place them under pressure; it worked quite effectively because I saw some of them diving to the ground, others turning back and yelling all kinds of profanity and trying to outrun my speeding bullets.
Then it happened…. that which I had feared…. my gun jammed!
I tried desperately to dislodge the one bullet to clear the chamber and when the rival gang discerned that I was struggling to get a shot off they immediately knew that the gun was jammed and they suddenly regained new strength and courage. My American “brothers” saw the gang advancing again and they decided to flee back into the safety of the yard leaving me all alone outside in the street.
One of the Weekend Spoilers was aiming a javelin at me! My eyes were focused on him as I cocked the gun for the umpteenth time trying to get the bullet into the chamber, but to no avail.
Then he released the javelin! I watched in horror as the javelin came swirling and piercing through the atmosphere in my direction. I could not move an inch and I knew that I had to act fast; one tenth of a second too early or one tenth of a second too late could mean the difference between life and death! It was almost like that speeding spear was willing me to remain rooted in my place for its impact…. It was almost like that fast moving deadly missile was programmed to pierce my body. Instinctively I jumped to the right side and I went sprawling on the ground as I heard the deadly projectile “swooshing” angrily past me! When I fell into the ditch my elbow struck the ground on impact and my gun went clattering out of my hand. Suddenly I found myself lying helplessly on my back staring at the faces of a bloodthirsty gang with murderous intent. Death was laughing in my face and even through my fear I was still trying desperately to figure out a way to escape from an extremely disadvantaged position.
At that moment those men could have killed me with much ease, but fortunately for me they were more interested in my jammed gun that was lying to one side away from me. Almost all of them simultaneously moved for the gun and began wrestling each other for the gun, which actually allowed me to escape back into AB’s yard in those precious seconds. I guess those men were rather satisfied that they took my gun and they immediately ran off leaving us to lick our wounds. I was very angry that I lost my gun; my gangster ego was severely bruised in this battle where I tasted defeat so bitterly and the humiliation was too great to bear! It was never a good thing when your enemy runs off with your weapons; it tarnishes your reputation in the underworld. I knew the story was going to spread quickly like a fire through the grapevine. I knew that I had to do everything in my power to get my gun back – it was a matter of PRINCIPLE!
That evening my friends organized a ride for me and Curly home, but I didn’t go home I went straight away to Surrey Estate to see my friend HB for another gun. HB only had one gun and so I armed myself with an axe and a knife and the three of us returned back to the “Kierie” with one mission and one mission only in mind – to get back my gun and whatever happens in the process will happen! Unfortunately we drove through those streets up and down, but we could not find a single Weekend Spoiler; the streets were quiet and almost empty because they knew that we were going to come back for my gun.
People in that small community knew what had happened that afternoon and an unfamiliar car driving slowly up and down empty streets would certainly attract undue attention from neighbours who might decide to call the police. We then decided on a course of prudence and left the area.
I read this quote from a Mr. Jones that says….”You win some, you lose some. But you live to fight another.”
And I definitely lost something that day and I was quite willing to draw back and fight another day!
In the end I never really got my gun back and I just wrote it off as a loss. Fortunately for me my reputation did not suffer too much damage as a result of the gossiping through the grapevine.
Many years after that incident I became a born-again Christian and one day another ministry group invited to give my testimony at one of their Open Air Services. They were having a whole week of Open Air Services in one township…. The township of Bokmakierie! I was already in the wheelchair at the time as a result of the car accident.
GOD, in His beautiful grace is calling me back to Bokmakierie to do a work of restoration. During my testimony the LORD instructed me to repent and ask the city for forgiveness for the shooting incident that I was involved in.
(Isa 61:4) They shall build up the ancient ruins; they shall raise up the former devastations; they shall repair the ruined cities, the devastations of many generations.
I want to praise GOD for showing me today that must put my faith in Him alone and not in any weapons. So many gangsters and gang leaders and drug merchants lean on and trust in their guns.
that and business enterprises OD OD
There is no gun, no matter how big, or how powerful that can defend you against Death when he comes riding on his pale horse and with Hades following him.
I urge you my friend, if you are still involved as a hit man for a gang and if you have been putting blind faith in your guns that has the ability to jam in the presence of your enemy….then I plea by you to put down your man-made weapons and put your faith and trust in the LORD Jesus Christ! GOD changed my gangster lifestyle and took away my weapons and gave me much more powerful spiritual weapons.
He can do it for you also!