A stolen phone, a dead robber and trauma - My experience with Nairobi thugs

However, fate had other plans in store for me. Just as I was about to leave for our morning rendezvous, a phone call came in, leading to a raincheck on our breakfast plans.

Disappointed but adaptable, I decided to make the most of my unexpected free time by heading into town.

As I boarded a bus on my way to Kilimani, my white earphones adorned my ears, enveloping me in the world of pleasant music playing on the radio. 

The city was still awakening, and the rhythmic tunes served as my soothing companions. 

However, as the minutes passed, it became evident that the pre-promised El Niño rainfall had arrived earlier than expected, causing chaos due to the city's inadequate drainage systems.

My journey was delayed, and my elegant heels weren't designed for speed.

Finally, I reached Kilimani, an upscale neighbourhood, or so I thought, somewhat oblivious to my surroundings.

My phone was tucked into my trench coat pocket as I got lost in the music flowing through my earphones.

Then, the unexpected occurred.

Between my trench coat and my ear, my phone was snatched from me. It happened so fast I did not even have time to react, one second I have a phone, next, I am standing there in shock.

Panic and anger welled up as I recalled the hard work and effort, I had invested in acquiring that phone. The thought of purchasing a new one was daunting, given my current financial situation.

In that desperate moment, I let out a piercing scream, shouting, "Mwizi, they have stolen my phone... Heeeeelp!" My adrenaline-fueled body sprang into action, and I took off after the thieves.

My cries caught the attention of nearby pedestrians, and the situation escalated quickly as a small crowd joined the chase.

With my heart racing and determination fueling my pursuit, I screamed animatedly, drawing strength from the terror of losing my valuable possession.

A courageous individual in the crowd hurled a log, obstructing the thieves' path, which ultimately led to their capture.

The ensuing mob wasted no time in delivering swift justice. The robbers were beaten into submission, and the angry mob showed no mercy.

Twice, police patrol cars sped by, but the crowd adamantly told them, "Mtuwachie hawa tunyoroshe" - "Let us deal with these thieves."

The mob continued to deliver their form of street justice, leaving the thieves battered and bruised.

As soon as I retrieved my phone from the pedestrian who had assisted me, my mind instinctively went to capture the scene on video.

I ended up recording an entire video footage of the incident, watching in horror as the mob continued their relentless assault.

A senior officer arrived on the scene and ordered the injured thieves to be taken to safety.

My mind was in a state of shock, and I didn't know whether to leave or stay. When the police asked me to accompany them to the station, I willingly obliged.

The duo of thieves was asked to carry each other on their backs, and they struggled to move due to their injuries.

It made me wonder if their ill-fated choices would come back to haunt them in the afterlife or if they would continue to be petty thieves until they learned to target more deserving, powerful foes.

Despite the terrifying ordeal, I couldn't deny the sense of justice that surged through me.

I may not be suited for martial arts, but I believed that, in some way, I had played a role in delivering justice that day.

As I reflect on the incident, I can't help but think about the still new phone I had acquired just four weeks earlier. 

The phone crashed immediately after I uploaded the footage, and repairs would be costly, leaving me in the dark for a while.

In the end, the universe had a unique way of delivering justice in a seemingly sadistic manner.

I later heard that one of the thieves succumbed to his injuries, while the other remains in hospital. 

I bet he'll be burning in hell or he'll come back as a thief until he learns to come up with better plans to run heists, or at least be iconic and steal from the ruthless big pigs in the world.

The incident left me terrified, the thought of joining a martial arts class crossed my mind: I may feel motivated to learn martial arts but I know myself.

I belong in the books so I'll ask the universe for grace and a Porsche and I believe that would be a worthy gift for bringing the guys to justice, I was a vessel, I think.

Whatever you feel about mob justice, wait until someone grabs your valuable(s) and you will stand there cheering the mob as they deliver justice.

I am still dealing with some sort of trauma, any sound of a boda boda makes me shudder and both the driver and pillion passenger are all suspects.

That Porsche better come fast and in whatever form even as a Vitz.