A little girl strokes the beard of an enormous Father Christmas at Johannesburg’s Rosebank Mall, while her mother croons gentle descriptions of his velvety coat and big girth.
Nearby, an enormous Christmas tree sparkles with memorial globes, bought to raise funds for the families of police officers killed on duty.
A police reservist was shot in the neck and died here on October 9, as about 10 robbers made their dash for freedom. Since then, newspapers headlines have recorded a steady increase in cash-in-transit heists and robberies at retail centres.
It’s Monday morning, which many security analysts warn is a danger time for robbers who know that coffers are swollen from the weekend’s pre-Christmas takings, but shopping appears to continue as normal.
”Darling, I have been attacked twice — I will just donner [hit] them with my stick,” says Maggie Otto. ”But what can you do? If they march a couple of guys around here, is it going to help? I don’t think so.”
Browsing at a cellphone shop are two young metro police officers, whose colleague, Envor Enoch, was shot dead in Rosebank on Friday when he and two other police officials went to investigate a report of a suspicious vehicle.
Wearing heavy bulletproof vests, the fresh-faced young men are later seen walking round the mall.
Throughout the mall, solemn security guards with walkie-talkies under their blazers are posted outside some of the larger shops, with a guard and a dog posted outside Nedbank.
The Pick ‘n Pay warns that off-site digital surveillance is under way.
The main entrance to the mall is only manned by a newspaper vendor, busily totalling the day’s sales so far, and flanked by the coffee drinkers at the nearby café.
Centre manager Leila Daya says that from Wednesday the centre will introduce random customer searches as part of its Christmas security plan.
”Some of our customers have requested this,” she says, adding that customer safety is the centre’s ”number-one” priority.
Outside, near a boom gate blocking closer access to the mall, a guard says: ”Ayi, we are afraid,” and adds that his wife implores him to be careful.
Rose Mantanga, a familiar sight where she asks for money outside a busy bank, says: ”I am not safe, but there is nothing I can do. I have been here more than 20 years — my family is dead, I am suffering … the grant for cripples these days is too small, you know how much groceries cost.”
Fourways
At Fourways Mall, north of Johannesburg, a large model of Santa Claus stands watch over one of the centre’s entrances with no visible security at that entrance.
Bahboobi Sawaya, visiting her family from the United States, is anxious and feeling unsafe while waiting for her daughter to complete her shopping.
This is because she and her sister survived an armed robbery at their home last week.
”He pulled my ring off,” she says, showing a scratch on her finger.
”What if he has Aids?” she says, her chin trembling.
A security guard arrives and asks the South African Press Association’s (Sapa) photographer to stop shooting, but Sawaya says: ”Let him carry on, people need to know about these things.”
On the way through the warren that leads to the centre management’s offices, a large notice outside the public toilets asks people not to abuse the panic buttons that have been installed there.
Willem Strydom, a manager for Gensec, the centre’s owners, tells Sapa over the phone later that the centre has to find a balance between security and allowing shoppers the freedom they expect at an entertainment venue.
”We are definitely doing a lot. We work closely with the police and they come on site a lot more than normal.”
His colleague Marna van der Walt says: ”We work closely with car guards — they are our first line of defence.”
Commenting on a proposal to introduce metal detectors, she says that because of apartheid the devices have negative connotations. She urges shoppers to report anything untoward and to be vigilant.
At Southgate, outside Soweto, saucepan salesperson Charity Halo is positioned near an entrance with her display.
”I am not worried. There is security. As you can see, there is one standing there, there is another to that side.”
Claudine Marneville, who is walking with her husband and two children, says: ”I feel safe during the week, but not during the weekend — there are a lot of people just standing around then.”
Asked whether he ever feels afraid, a security guard says: ”Yes, of course,” but then adds: ”We have more shoplifting.” — Sapa