*warning - Adult content*

Hassan’s an idiot.

I’m getting dressed. My jeans are lying on Nandi’s couch by the front window. When I move to get them, I see Hassan on the road outside.

Now, Hassan’s an idiot.  He’s just one of those really stupid, dumb idiots. Like he’ll steal something from Denzel, and then take the stolen stuff back and try to sell it back to him, that kind of stupid.

He’s standing on the road outside. It’s pissing down, and he’s just standing there, soaked. I’m watching him, and it’s obvious he’s checking out the house next door. He’s probably plotting to go in and take something, which would be really stupid. But he’s an idiot.

And yes, of course, that’s what he does. 

I can’t see him because the garage’s in the way, but I know what’s going to happen. I hear the metal gate banging and creaking as he obviously climbs over it. Two, three seconds later, the house alarm goes off, this fucking loud siren that you can hear easily at the petrol station, and the dog they keep inside the stoep starts going ape shit. I can hear it snarling and hurling itself at the thin metal struts they’ve put around the stoep.

That’s how stupid Hassan is. 

Everyone in the neighbourhood knows about the alarm. We’ve all woken up to it often enough at night. We all know about the dogs, we’ve all woken up to them often enough at night, and I know the guy who’s fixing the place has put cameras all around the spot.  So, within moments his phone will have Hassan’s stupid face, and he’s going to call his mates.

And Hassan’s an idiot, because he’s been here long enough to know all this.

Now, this clear change in events has obviously caught the idiot Hassan by surprise.

I hear him clambering back over the fence, and I now see him stumbling back into the middle of the road.

There’s several options open to him now. The stupidest would be to try it again, which he doesn’t do. 

But then he goes to Doug’s place, next door to the lady’s. 

And that is a very close second on the stupidest things to do list.

When it’s raining like this, it’s obviously very difficult for everyone to work, so they all stay at Doug’s spot. Now this includes the minders of the various ladies working along Sarnia, and I can see Denzel’s car outside. Doug’s been around lately, so I’m figuring everyone’s there. 


This crowd doesn’t like getting into crap when they haven’t done anything. 

And the lady whose house it is, well, it’s her son who put the cameras in, and he’s quite a hard-core guy. He isn’t around much, but his mates pretty hardcore. I wouldn’t fuck with him, and I certainly wouldn’t cause shit with his mates. 

There’ve been several rather heated discussions between Doug’s crowd and his, so there’s already this tension sort of just hanging there.

The alarm going off, the dog going mad, the things chewing on the fence, and Hassan stumbling in, is a pretty clear storyline, so within moments I can hear Denzel shouting, I can also hear Doug yelling, and then it’s pretty obvious by the sounds that the guys in Doug’s house are beating the shit out of Hassan.


It’s only a couple of minutes later that the first of my neighbour’s connections comes screaming down the road, I can hear there’s another one turning the corner from Sarnia, and there’ll be a couple more very soon.

So, me, I sit down on the couch with Nandi on my lap, and I’m watching this. And I’m shaking my head, because, well, Hassan’s an idiot, and check what’s happened now. 

The climax comes when Denzel pushes and drags a definitely battered Hassan out of Doug’s spot, tells these other guys what’s happened and leaves Hassan with them. Obviously they start smacking him as well. 

By then there’s nothing much left to see, so I head down the passage to the kitchen to make some coffee.

By the time I’ve ground the coffee, this really nice Kenyan blend I got from Judd’s place, I can hear the bike’s starting, and going back up the hill, and around to Sarnia. 

Nandi’s now jumping all over me, and she carries on, leaping shoulder height, as I move over to the couch to start writing this.

There’s the sound of a cuckoo calling outside, and Nandi’s now moved to chewing on the sleeve of my jersey. 

She’s also stupid, but a hell of a lot less stupid than Hassan.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

The author

Nick Miles is a Durban based writer, with a zany and distinctive writing style.

He lives with his partner Sarah and their two dogs, Nandi, Maus and Ginger cat.