We don’t deserve to live in constant fear and anxiety

I spent last week in the UAE, a country in the Middle East.

I visited two of the six emirates, namely, Abu Dhabi and Dubai.

Many people who visit Dubai are impressed by the luxurious life it offers — from luxury hotels to high-end shopping.

In the suburb of Jumeirah, multimillion-dollar mansions line the streets, while the suburb of Al Wasl, where I was staying, is a hub of upscale malls.

And then of course, there are the iconic landmarks and glamorous architecture which include the world’s tallest structure — the Burn Khalifa — and the world’s largest frame — the massive Dubai Frame which serves as a museum, an observatory and a monument.

The Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque in Abu Dhabi, the world’s biggest mosque, is a sight to behold.

There’s no question that the UAE is an incredibly beautiful country.

But it isn’t the beauty which I will always remember about the UAE, it is the overwhelming sense of safety that I felt — not just in Al Wasl, but in the working-class neighbourhoods of Deira and Al Aweer. I will also remember how the UAE, like many countries I’ve travelled to, reminded me how much anxiety SA women live with due to the debilitating levels of crime in the country.

You wouldn’t know this when I’m in my house in the northern suburbs of Johannesburg because I’m always indoors, but I love taking walks at night. I really do.

In Germany, where I have residence, I leave my apartment only at night — even in the blistering winter cold.

Very often, I take these walks by myself.

In every city I’ve visited, I’ve taken a walk at night.

Cities come alive at night — in a good way.

For example, last November, on one of my walks around Botafogo in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, I came across a street vendor selling books along Rua Nelson Mandela just across from the metro station.

I don’t speak Portuguese, but I bought a book from him, got myself a cup of coffee and just sat there “reading” it.

I have done this in many parts of the world — from Mexico City to Harare.

One night, as I was walking around Al Wasl, appreciating the surroundings, I was overcome by a deep sadness as I found myself saying about how I wished Johannesburg was like this.

I love Johannesburg — it is where I was born and raised.

I love SA — and more so after relocating to Germany a year-and-a-half ago.

But one thing I never miss about the country of my heart is the sense of anxiety that grips you every time you walk out your door.

Hell, it grips you even inside your own house whenever the Mr Delivery guy brings your food.

I have cameras and panic buttons all over my house.

We employ private security in our highly fortified neighbourhood.

But the anxiety never goes away. It’s permanent and consuming.

You stop at a traffic light and think: “Is this the day I get hijacked?”

You see someone walk past you in a mall parking lot and you think: “What’s the distance back to the entrance in case something happens?”

In Johannesburg, and much of SA, you are anxious at all times.

Women know this. As they read this, they know what I’m talking about.

SA is a beautiful country, but fear permeates the atmosphere like coiling miasma.

It is absolutely debilitating.

I wish Johannesburg was a safer city — that SA was a country where a woman could walk at sunset without fear of being mugged, raped or killed.

We don’t deserve to exist in such debilitating fear and to only ever feel safe in foreign lands.

It is not normal.

Nothing about living in constant fear and anxiety is normal.

The Herald