Looting spree leaves shopkeeper surrounded by three men armed with a knife
The chase unfolded as a high-octane blur. A man waiting at a bus stop with his family – pizza in hand – offered to help me. He leaped into my car and directed me toward one of the thieves. Moments later, the adrenaline still pumping, we sprang from the car and cornered him.
- 7 months ago
September 17, 2023
The storefront of a business targeted in late August during the infamous lootings in Argentina | Photo courtesy of Alejandra Sempé
RÍO CUARTO, Argentina — On an otherwise ordinary Sunday evening, tension hung thick in the air as I prepared to close my store. The mood turned ominous when my phone buzzed—a warning from our local shopkeepers’ WhatsApp group. Two supermarkets had been robbed; the word “looting” flashed on my screen.
Despite the air of apprehension, the idea that I could be next felt unreal. Exercising caution, I pulled down my store’s heavy metal fence. Its clang seemed to echo the blend of resignation and disbelief I felt. I’d been robbed nine times before, but tonight’s unsettling atmosphere stripped away my sense of calm. Convinced the danger had passed as the clock ticked past eleven, I allowed myself a fragile sense of security.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the cool, dark night, clutching a bag filled with the day’s earnings. Three steps into my walk to the car, my world closed in. Three men circled me, their eyes hard and their intentions clear. The glint of a knife in the dim streetlight paralyzed me. In a swift, practiced move, they stripped me of my jacket, phone, wallet, money, and my mother’s medication.
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In the wake of the robbery, vulnerability yielded to a surge of adrenaline. I spotted a neighbor at their window, yelled for them to call the police, and jumped into my car. As I sped through the dark streets, regret and anxiety about my financial future filled my mind, driving me to reclaim what was mine.
The chase unfolded as a high-octane blur. A man waiting at a bus stop with his family – pizza in hand – offered to help me. He leaped into my car and directed me toward one of the thieves. Moments later, the adrenaline still pumping, we sprang from the car and cornered him. I demanded the return of my belongings, but he only had my phone. A surge of frustration took over, giving rise to an anger I never felt before.
That night at home, sleep evaded me as fear, tension, and looming debts filled my thoughts. The next morning, I reopened my store and kept the metal security bars down. Every transaction carried a new layer of caution. I served customers and interacted with suppliers directly from the doorway, minimizing risks and clinging to a tenuous sense of safety.
Radio show exposes everything, unexpected calls from Argentina’s top officials
As I navigated my uneasy new routine, my phone came to life with a call from an unknown number. The voice on the other end belonged to Jorge Lanata, a nationally renowned journalist. Right away, on his live radio show, I let loose a torrent of pent-up emotions and criticisms, including my dissatisfaction with the government. The call ended, but my phone’s silence was short-lived.
Almost immediately, it rang again. This time, Anibal Fernandez, the Minister of Security, introduced himself. Skeptically, I hung up the phone, but I sent a text to the number saying, “I wish this were true.” Minister Fernandez then video called me, banishing any doubts. Before I could even process these extraordinary events, the President himself called.
In a matter of days, my life had spiraled through a series of events: first, the robbery, then the high-profile interview, and now direct contact with top government officials. My phone kept buzzing as the President and the Minister followed up on the aid that they promised me. Meanwhile, journalists and politicians delved deeper into the significance of my case.
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When I am alone in the quiet of my home, I replay the scenes from that unforgettable night. In my life, I have faced and overcome graver trials, but this particular incident left a permanent mark on me. In my memories, I struggle to focus on the blurry faces of the robbers. It feels like trying to grasp wisps of smoke with my hands.
That night proved to be a chaotic blur that clouded my clarity, and the memories merely reflect how quickly everything happened. When I received financial aid from the government, the arrival of it seemed to free me from the grip of that haunting experience.
Yet, as rumors of new lootings circulate on social media, I can feel my anxiety escalating each time. All of this ties into the approaching elections and the unrest in the country. The haunting past of Argentina’s infamous lootings from two decades ago periodically resurface and cloud the present moment just as my memories of being robbed cloud mine.
