RIGHTS-SWAZILAND: Petty Crime Prompts National Soul Searching

By James Hall Reprint | | Print |

James Hall

MBABANE, Feb 14 2002 (IPS) - The burgeoning problem of crime is gnawing at the social fibre of one of Africa’s most traditional nations, and partly out of frustration, partly from panic, authorities are proposing extreme measures intended not simply to thwart criminals, but seemingly to turn-back the clock to simpler days.

“Crime is unSwazi,” says Prince Jahamnyama Dlamini, a president (magistrate) of a traditional Swazi National Court.

“Crooks came with colonialism,” says Charles Simelane, an anthropology lecturer at the University of Swaziland.

Neither view is entirely correct. Since time immemorial, according to historian J.S.M. Matsebula, “Criminal matters such as stock theft have been handled on the local level by chiefs’ councils.”

Swaziland today has a dual system of jurisprudence, and the type of Swazi Nation Court Prince Jahamnyama presides over is an extension of earlier ethnic councils where the final verdict is delivered by an elder authority, usually a chief.

Swazi Nation Courts handle minor disputes, theft of property, and some assault cases. Capital crimes and serious crimes, such as rape, murder, sedition and grand larceny, are tried at the High Court in the capital Mbabane.

While historically Swazis have not been spared on Swazi crime in the same way that no society on earth has escaped such internecine crime, the disparity between rich and poor, of Western- style affluence versus the subsistence existence of African peasantry, fuelled new kinds of crime with the colonisation of Swaziland. (Officially, the kingdom was a British Protectorate from 1902 to 1968.)

The Times of Swaziland since its inception in 1897 carried stories of Swazis arrested for housebreaking, goat and chicken theft, and store goods theft. In terms of crime statistics, these offences prevail today.

“Crime in Swaziland is generally of the petty variety for an overwhelming majority of cases,” says Police Commissioner Edgar Hillary, who heads the Royal Swaziland Police Force.

Police records show 57 arrests for first and second degree murder last year in the entire country, a striking record compared to neighbouring South Africa, which has the highest per capita murder rate in the world.

“Compare to South Africa, Swaziland is crime free,” says Balonja Magongo, a traditional leader in the eastern Lubombo region. “But compared to the way we used to be, crime is a real concern.”

The fault for escalating petty crime, particularly shoplifting, is ascribed by law enforcement officials, the media, university sociologists and just about everyone else who has commented on the phenomenon to two factors: poverty, and the breakdown of the traditional family.

“The traditional homestead, where many generations lived in a community of huts, used to cushion the worst effects of poverty, because people looked after one another. In Swaziland, there might have been times of deprivation, but rarely famine, because people pooled their resources,” says anthropologist Simelane.

“All that has disappeared with urbanisation. Young people leave rural lands to live in poor townships, where there is crime,” he says.

With two-thirds of Swazis living below the international poverty line, according to a United Nations survey, and unemployment in the formal sector standing at 45 percent, according to finance ministry statistics, poverty-induced crime, in the view of attorney Fikile Mthembu, is inevitable.

“Nobody wants to steal, except for a few psychopaths. People steal to survive,” says Mthembu, a former mayor of the central commercial town Manzini, Swaziland’s most populous urban area that has been hit hard by crime and criminal gangs.

Prince Jahamnyama created a stir this month with his remarks after he sent a repeat offender to jail for shoplifting. Angered that he was seeing the same “career shoplifters” again and again in his courtroom, the magistrate called for a revision of the law to revoke the option of a fine for anyone convicted of theft two times.

“Repeat offenders should go to jail. They are a drain on the economy, and they are chasing away investors,” he said.

The Swaziland Law Society, who opposes mandatory prison sentences that rob a magistrate of discretionary power in judgements, responded that the cost of a prisoner’s upkeep is usually far in excess of the value of a stolen item.

Punishment options proposed in the press include community service sentences, and financial restitution. Law enforcement authorities also encourage tighter preventive security at businesses.

“The noise being made about shoplifting is legitimate,” says a source with the Swaziland Chamber of Commerce. “Storeowners are already taking a beating with the poor economy, and now there are organised shoplifting syndicates. The cost of stolen merchandise is indirectly passed on to the consumer, fuelling inflation.”

But there is more than economics involved in the current worry about petty crime. “People feel insecure,” says Evah Kunene, a housewife in Manzini. “There are so many house break-ins that people are barricading themselves inside at night. Swaziland is known to be a peaceful country. Why do we have to live like this?”

Vusie Ginindza, editor of the Times Sunday newspaper, notes, “Many people have been attacked by vicious dogs in the townships so far this year, and if we ask why we have to admit people are making it a point to get vicious dogs for protection.”

Other media workers have suggested that Swaziland, by the very nature of its small size and slow pace, is a place where crimes when they do occur seem more alarming, triggering an overreaction.

“In a way it is good that we are concerned about shoplifting and burglaries instead of murder and ethnic cleansing, but it is always sad to watch the corruption of a pastoral place, and worry take over people who used to be so carefree,” says a Times reporter.

Sadly, no one believes that sending shoplifters to prison will return the kingdom to previously carefree days.