Ever wonder about the story of that pretty lost heel lying in the road? Ever think to yourself, why is it lying there, why is there only one, or perhaps what happened to that woman? Well, here’s my story.

Monday, the 9th of October 2017 was the scariest day of my life. To be honest with you, for a moment I thought I was going to die.

It started off as your average Monday, the weekend has just passed and it was time to go to work. What I thought would be a quiet day, turned out to be the complete opposite. My news editor told us we needed to go to Welkom as there were protests.

So, immediately we jumped into the car and headed off to Welkom from Bloemfontein. The hour and a half drive seemed to pass quite quickly.

When we arrived in Welkom, my colleague Mark phoned police officials to find out about the protests and exactly where they were taking place. We drove down the roads and all we saw was burning tyres and rocks in the road. It looked pretty bad, however, we saw no protestors.

We kept driving and still we saw no protestors. Suddenly we stopped at a four-way stop that was barricaded by rocks. We saw a man directing a white Hilux bakkie past the rocks. Something seemed off to me, the man had an evil grin on his face, we wanted to turn around when he signalled to us that we can come forward.

I should have listened to my gut feeling. Mark rolled down his window, shaked the short, dreaded man’s hand and started asking where the protests might be. At this stage, I have ignored my intuition and opened up Twitter to start a live video. In the corner of my eye, I see the guy putting his hand through the window and grabbing the key. Mark and this guy are in a tussle for the key!

It hits me! We are in a crisis situation. I look for the locks of the car and the car is not locking! Three men come to my side of the car and open the door. There is nothing I can do. They try to take the two phones in my hands but I put up a fight, I am not thinking straight at this stage. Obviously, I don’t want them to take my belongings, let alone the work’s equipment! In a panicky voice, Mark eventually tells me to give them the stuff, and I listen and let go of it.

At the same time, one guy is running off with my handbag with my life in it! Another is feeling me up to make sure I do not have other belongings. I felt dirty, scared and disgusted all at once. Three men are holding Mark down, one climbs over me and half lays on my lap to check if we have other belongings or valuables. I wanted to hit him or at least do something but to be honest with you, I was too scared.

At this stage, about 10-15 guys are surrounding the car. A couple of them are opening the boot of the car, others are at the back of the car, three are by Mark feeling if he has anything on him, and I have three men by me now trying to get me out of the car. I hold the safety belt tight, making sure it does not clip out. I am praying at this stage because that is all I can do. In my head, I am screaming to the heavens for God to keep us safe.

It’s 11:22 now and they cannot manage to get us out of the car. I do not look at them and my eyes are fixated on the clock in front of me. Mark wins the tussle of the keys when the guy throws his wallet back at him when he sees there is no money inside. Mark manages to start the car, almost does a donut and we speed off – only to realise later that the doors are all still open.

I am not sure how these protestors got away from us as I went into a complete blank. Thank the Lord for that. We are safe.

I wake up from the “trance” I slipped into. Realising what just happened. All I remember as we drove off is seeing my pink and black heel lying in the road, stranded and lost. It could have been much worse, but something that day kept us safe. Whether it was God himself or the Angels - I am thankful to be alive.

Yes, we made news headlines across the country. It’s very weird and different being at the other end of the spectrum. Journalists need to be careful out there, sometimes we work in very dangerous situations and it does not mean because we are journalists that we are invisible and that when we wear our branding we are safe. Truth is, it is still South Africa. Always analyse the situation first and if need be - get police to escort you to places. Our lives are more important than a story.

-Josca Human