day 31

I just got back from a church friend's place. She was driving home from work when she found her home broken into.

Apparently there was an attempted break-in just last week. Its seems it was like the same guys.

And they knew what they were doing too. They climbed the gate into the back garden and broke through the door. Then they literally cut out the alarm system, leaving the casing at the kitchen sink.

It's almost as if the they didn't bother with the living area; it was untouched. They took straight to the bedrooms, drawers up on ends, belongings all over the place. They got some gold jewellery and cash.

They left behind a single woman who lives alone, shaken.

Jamie and I were at the O'Brien's for the meeting. It was never really said, but the meeting was cancelled because of the bad weather. We had a prayer instead, then went over to her place.

It was almost three hours after the break-in when we visited, and the police still hadn't arrived. I heard her neighbour who had dropped in say it was unlikely they would come.

Clearly, all the Dubliners were familiar with such happenings. The neighbour's next to Tom had been done (that's what they call it here) before. Neighbours were away when it happened. The doors were left open the whole day because that was part of the crime scene evidence. Police missing.

Another neighbour. Their kids, nine and twelve years old, found screaming, because they had returned from school to house no longer home.

Gangsters going knocking on the doors to see if people were home. Stay silent, they might think no one was in and break in. Answer, they could force their way in. To answer the door, or not?

Sometimes they go for the copper pipes or tanks. They walk out of the house, water gushing from the disconnected pipeline: thousands of dollars in damage. What copper they could nick would be traded for a hundred bucks. No eyebrows raised.

It's not that these stories are unheard of. In fact, it's clearly quite the opposite. What's frightening about these recounts is that they are not just stories. They are somebody's experiences.

Maybe it is because I've been privileged to grow up in a place where break-ins is not a common worry. Just from the way the locals talked about it today – the stories, the elliptical "got done" – shows that they even have a way of talking about break-ins. We in Singapore, don't.

The reality of having a home violated has never struck me so heavily before. I am going to bed tonight very sobered.