I Know Taekwondo But I Was Helpless The Day I Became A Snatch Thief’s Target
"He just stared at me. Forever. It felt like forever."
By Tang Ruxyn — 07 Mar 2016, 05:33 PM — Updated over 8 years ago
It was a Sunday afternoon on 21 February, when Elia Anis became a victim of snatch theft just in front of Atria, a shopping mall at Damansara Jaya. She was the third reported snatch theft case in the same area for that month.
"The first happened roughly a week earlier, in front of Public Bank. The second, in my exact same spot, just a day before. I'm safe. I'm lucky. My wallet only carried my IC and my license, along with some spare cash," Elia shared.
"But my phone with all of its photos and videos are gone. And my bag that I've had for six years was gone, too.
My only injuries are my bruises. I'm safe and lucky and grateful. But I'm not okay."
It was like any other day when Anis stepped out of Atria with her mother and sister to get to their car. But they were distracted as they were chatting with one another. Then it happened.
"It was a narrow road with cars and bikes double-parked left and right. Our car was parked just a two-minutes walk away from the mall's entrance," Elia said.
"But we forgot to look out for danger. We forgot to remind each other about our bags. But we're humans, we make mistakes. It happens, doesn't it? But I never knew that making a mistake could be so scary.
He was on his bike, and for some reason, I couldn't hear him. I felt him by my side and thought I'd accidentally bumped into him. I turned to apologise and to make way, worried he'd be annoyed that I was in his way.
I felt my bag strap getting caught on the handle and still, I thought it had been nothing. I thought he was about to stop, get down and help me with it. But instead, my bag swung up and it was being pulled away.
For a split second, I managed to wind the straps around my wrist, tugging it back but to no avail. I had absolutely no fight in me and I don't know why. Before I could comprehend what was going on, it slid off my shoulder and it was then out of my sight as he rounded the corner.
I had thought the best of him. He was robbing me in broad daylight and I had still thought the best of him."
"I'm careful, defensive, on guard, alert, trained in taekwondo and martial arts. I have a tremendously loud voice. I can run pretty fast. But that day, I stood there and did nothing," the 19-year-old from PJ said.
"I know the drill; sling your bag to the other side, walk in a single file, don't walk too close to the road, keep an eye out for bikes. I know all of this. Of course, I would.
I walk everywhere. I walk to my yoga classes, to work, to the grocery store, to my cousin's house - all in my neighbourhood. And every time I do, I am careful.
As I walk, the only thing that goes through my mind are the procedures to take should anyone attack me. I pull out every defensive and offensive move I've ever learned in martial arts. I recall every alternative route to a safer place. I know which walls to climb, which directions to run in. I know everything.
But not that day. That day, I knew nothing."
Elia recalled that the man looked at her for awhile. She thought that he was going to apologise or excuse himself for bumping into her. But that didn't happen.
"He just stared at me. Forever. It felt like forever."
"Now that I think of it, he was mocking me. I stared at him forever but I can't catch him because all I saw was my own face reflected on his visor. He rode away slowly.
I could have ran after him. But it all came crashing down on me only moments later. And no, my memory didn't slow down time. It really wasn't that fast.
He was like a sly pickpocket instead of an aggressive snatch thief."
"I can’t help but to think that he must have thought me to be such easy an prey. It’s heartbreaking because everyone who knows me knows that I am a fighter."
"I'm good with colours. But I can't seem to recall if his pants were a dark blue or a light khaki, if his visor was orange or green.
I didn't catch his plate number or the shape of his bike. I stared forever but didn't take anything in.
And now I can't forget. I remember that moment once every three minutes and I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I can't forget how I'd failed to defend myself."
You wouldn't have to tell Elia how fortunate she is to escape almost unharmed except for some minimal bruises, or how "it could have been worse". She knows, she really does.
"It could have been my mother or sister, with their credit cards and car keys. I know. I know it wasn't my fault and that I did the right thing by letting him go. I know all of this.
But it doesn't make me feel better.
Also, the police are after him, so maybe there's hope.
Maybe even if I can't get my things back, he'll pay for the trauma. But we can only hope and pray. And for some reason, it still doesn't quite make me feel any better."
"There’s no moral to my story. No “be more careful” or “it could happen to anyone” because everyone already knows that. It just is what it is," said Elia, ending her story.
"Thankfully, I’ve managed to return to work now. I won’t let him scare me into locking myself inside my room anymore.
I still walk to my classes and to work; only now, I carry with me an umbrella which I grip so tightly, sometimes I feel like it could break within my grasp.
I jump at the slight sound of motorcycles, I look over my shoulder every few seconds; I’m paranoid and ever so scared."
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