After the police came to CRC, the scene of the crime, they told us we must go to the police station to file a report. My intention was just to go along as a witness to give a statement for David Jika. I climbed in a car with Pastor Lebona and Pastor Wilson and Pastor David and his wife Lizzie rode in a car with one of his congregation members, a woman who coincidentally was the landlord of the man and his wife who tried to attack Pastor David and Pastor Lebona. Before I came into the police station, I looked up the American Embassy number in Maseru and called to ask their advice. They told me to file a complaint myself at the police station and send them the number of the complaint.

When we arrived at the police station, to my shock, the man and the 2 women who tried to break down the door and stab Pastor David with a knife were there in the waiting area. They stared at us with very evil looks and the woman who beat on the window with her hand when she saw my camera had the same look that must’ve started the expression; “If looks could kill…..” I tried to outstare her and not blink, but I blinked about 5 times and finally looked away before she ever flinched. Maybe the fact that I was filming her with my iPhone made her angry.

The police station reminded me of the customs office at the border of Ouaniminthe, Haiti. The door was open and all the windows were open. The building was dirty and run down. We walked over to one of the many report takers who were at windows like bank tellers to begin to give a report. It seemed that we were getting the run around. There was no one to explain to me what was going on or what the procedure was. I tried to ask question and get answers and I was told that there would be one report filed for David Jika and all of our names would be listed as a part of his report. Of course, all of the speaking was done in Sesotho. Only when I asked a question did anyone speak in English. We went from one person to another seemingly trying to figure out who we were supposed to talk to and what we were supposed to do.

After a time, before a report had been completed, a woman (not in uniform) came out and motioned us to go into a room to wait. (she said this in Sesotho—someone had to interpret). We waited in a hallway along with ‘guess who’ and had to walk right past the perpetrators into the same room as them! Chairs were arranged in a circle and we were instructed to sit down. Pastor David was seated right next to the man who tried to stab him. I wondered if he still had his knife. I was appalled that we were being taken into the same room with the people who attacked us and then we were left there for several minutes with no police representative in the room!!!

Finally, a woman, not in uniform, walked in and sat at the desk that was in the center of the circle and began speaking in Sotho. It appeared that she was going to ask each party to tell their side of the story and maybe try to work it out? I couldn’t believe my eyes and thought I must definitely be getting the wrong impression since I didn’t speak the language. I interrupted the woman and said, “I’m sorry, but I only speak English and I need an interpreter. She spoke in Sotho and someone in the room answered in Sotho. Again, I said, “I’m sorry, but I can’t understand you, I need an interpreter.” She briefly left the room and returned speaking again in Sotho. I said a third time, “I need to have an interpreter”. She continued to talk in Sotho and the man who had tried to attack Pastor David who had been slouching in the corner touched his watch impatiently. Pastor Wilson who was sitting next to me told me that the women who was supposedly mediating said she could not speak English and that she went to find someone who could interpret and that there was no one there who could, so we would have to wait. The man with the knife told her he had another appointment he needed to be at and couldn’t wait for an interpreter.

Pastor David suggested that Pastor Wilson could be my interpreter, so the police representative seemed to agree, but she continued to speak quickly and not wait for her comments to be interpreted. Wilson did a great job of trying to keep up with the conversation. Just as we were getting settled in to continue the ‘proceedings’ the same uniformed police woman, Inspector Motsoahae, who had come out to the scene earlier, walked into the room and spoke in Sotho that we were all being moved to a different room.

We all got up and walked down the hall and went into the office of the station director, Inspector Motsoahae’s supervisor, Ntate Tsita. When we walked in, I shook his hand, introduced myself and was very careful not to sit next to the 3 perpetrators. He smiled and said to me “Have we not yet taught you Sotho?” I smiled and told him I was trying to learn.

He then seemed to begin to do the same thing the other woman was doing—wanting to hear everyone’s side of the story, but one of the lady perpetrators interrupted him and said that ‘they’ (the perpetrators) had an appointment at Noon with someone (I think in the same office?) and she wanted to know if they should stay in this meeting or go to the other office. Ntate Tsita dismissed them to go to the other meeting and just as they left, I asked Ntate Tsita if the man still had his knife. He looked at me with a puzzled look and said, “Knife?” Then I explained that the man had tried to attack Pastor Jika with a knife and break into the room where I was and I was concerned about him still having his knife. I told him I had the attack on video on my iPhone which he was very interested to see and which I played for him from my iPhone. I told him I could email him a copy of the video, but he didn’t have an email address. He told me to email it to inspector Motsoahae who had a yahoo email address.

Then he replied, “Oh you need to go out front, then, and file a report”. By this time, I had determined that I was going to press charges myself (in case this was not made a criminal case) and file my own report as I observed how the matter was being taken so lightly and how there was such poor communication about this issue among the Basotho people and the police. I told David Jika that I was going to press charges myself regardless of what they decided to do although I encouraged them to press charges as well.

So……back to the front office to the teller windows where I leaned forward and spoke to the non-uniformed representative as he proceeded to fill out a police report. He didn’t speak English very well and had to ask me several times how to spell things. Thankfully, the report was in English, so that when I read it to sign it, I could see that what he had written was inaccurate. I said, “Would you mind if I just quickly wrote it myself—it won’t take too long?” He had to ask a couple of people before they finally agreed. I took a few minutes to hand write what had happened on the same legal pad he had been using. When I handed him the completed page and a half, he began to start all over with the report and hand copy what I wrote into his new report.

I said, “Would it be possible for you to just attach my handwritten statement to your report so you don’t have to copy it?” He had to ask another person and they determined that would be fine as long as I signed it, which I did. I asked if I could have a copy of the report for my records and after repeating my question a few times because he wasn’t understanding what I was asking, he said he didn’t have access to a copy machine. I then asked him if I could take the report somewhere else, copy it and bring it back. After discussing this with a couple of people, he told me that when I went back to N’tate Tsita’s office again, he could make me a copy.

Wow!!!! Dorothy, we’re not in Kansas any more.

After the report was finally completed, I was taken back into the office of Inspector Motsoahae and Ntate Tsita where thankfully they proceeded to tell me what to expect next. They told us that the perpetrators would be apprehended. (even though they had just been in this office for at least an hour).

Whew……! What a morning it had been. Pastor David instructed Lebona and Wilson to take me over to the lawyers where we had been headed to finalize the Beautiful Dream Center corporate papers when the threatened attacks happened.

Just a side note to make some of you feel better about this whole thing: when I questioned both David Jika and Lebona about the last time a knife had been pulled on them, Lebona said, “Never” and David Jika said the last time it happened to him was when he was 16 years old and he was the one who pulled out the knife.

So….I don’t think this is that common even in Lesotho. Of course it is the first time in 50 years that this has happened to me…..