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Writer's pictureLawrence Musunte

HE TOOK A BULLET FOR ME: Pastor Working As A Petrol Attendant

Updated: Aug 5, 2021

I survived death on my first job in South Africa. One thing I am forever grateful to God is the gift of intuition.


Most people think of intuition as being led by emotions. But No! Intuition is that gut feeling that I know that I know that I know inside me even if it doesn't make sense.


21 years ago I arrived in Cape Town with a two-fold mission; to find an opportunity to further my Theological Studies with a well accredited institution, and to seek ministry opportunities.


In my first six months my contact person set me up mostly in Baptist Churches on the Cape flats on Sundays.


In fact it was in one of the Baptist Churches where I was blessed with my first mobile phone. God has blessed me with an incredible ability to minister in different denominations.


Sunday after Sunday I got a thank you envelope sometimes R100 or R200. On your lucky Sunday you might get a few Pentecostal handshakes plus the envelope.


I quickly realized if things continue like this I will not be able to pay rentals & support my family. So I got a job. Yes my very first job. Up until that point full-time Pastoral ministry is what I only knew.


Petrol attendant at Caltex garage in Parkwood near Grassy Park was my first job.


This was a very rough neighborhood, if you are familiar with Cape Town you will understand.


My Manager was an ex-prisoner a tough talking scary man. But knowing him I discovered inside he was a soft person, a teddy bear.


One of my mistakes at the Pumps was trust. Like this elderly man used to fill his car there all the time.


So one day he came asked me to fill his tank that he will pay me later and I did. To me he is elderly a father figure.


The old man disappeared for one month. My boss had to cut off money from my wages. So he will always say "Pastor don't trust anyone here. This is not a Church"


The day the death threats began was when a rapid response security vehicle stopped on my pump. We had business with this particular company. They will fill their tanks, and you would give them a book to sign.


The company would then pay at the end of the month. So we joked with the security officer whom we knew too well. After filling his tank I went to fetch a book so he could sign, he drove off quickly without signing.


It didn't bother us being a rapid response security vehicle he might have been responding to a crime, we thought.


I couldn't cash up without proof that this security company took fuel. My manager was not worried he simply called the company.


Shockingly the security officer had knocked off & the security vehicle had petrol drained out.


In short he took petrol from a company vehicle to his own and then parked the vehicle.


The following day he was brought by his superior and I identified him as the person who run away without signing the receipt book.


Even though others who worked with me identified him too, because it was my pump he got so upset with me. The company accepted to deduct money from his wages to pay the Garage.


Everytime he drove by the Garage he insulted and threatened to kill me. The threats continued and I spoke to my manager. My ex-prisoner boss assured me he won't let that happen. And said to me "don't listen to him. A person who wants to kill you won't tell you".


One Friday evening before knocking off, he drove by our fuel station and he stopped, throwing racist and Xenophobic insults, but at the back of his car were about three young colored boys whose eyes were fixed at me.


As he shouted pointing at me, the boys were looking at me. I knew that day that he came to show the boys who the target was.


So same day Friday I got my weekly wage. I pulled my two Malawian collegues aside and told them I am not coming back. You saw that crazy man coming here with boys. I am convinced those boys were here to get my face, it is these boys who will kill me.


The guys tried to persuade me to stay I said I can feel it inside me. If I come back to work, I will be killed.


Before going to my place I decided to go tell my elder sister in Witboom that I have quit the job and why. My expectations was she will talk me into staying at the job.


But out of respect I just wanted her to know before I shared with my wife whom I protected from threats I was receiving at work up to this point.


To my surprise when I narrated the whole story to my sister she cried.


She said to me, "Pastor Musunte last night I had a dream that you were shot dead". She said please don't go back there God will provide another job.


Tuesday the following week I went out to search for a job.


My Manager from the caltex Garage Parkwood came to my house in Salt River to look for me.


My wife told him I am out searching for a job. He begged my wife to ask me to return. He was desperate and my wife was concerned. She asked him why he was so desperate to get me back.


Then came the news. "Yesterday around 18hrs one of my workers was shot right next to the Petrol Pump. The other Petrol attendants from Malawi quit their jobs right there. I need your husband to come back to work".


My wife looked at him and said to him "that bullet was meant for my husband".


When I came back to hear the story I quickly phoned my collegues to hear what happened.


On Monday there were two Malawians, one Xhosa guy we called him rasta because he had dreadlocks, and a colored guy were shifted to work.


I was told two young boys walked to the Garage. It's 18 hrs in summer so it's sunny people are going into the garage supermarket, cars are filling up their tanks on the pumps.


The two boys saw the two attendants standing next to each other. Then one of them said, "it's this one, it's this one" before the guys could realize what was going on one guy was shot with two bullets.


Blood spilling, customers running away the two boys just walked away and disappeared.


Because of trauma and fear the other Petrol attendants refused to come to work.


Dark skinned with a statue like mine he took my bullet in a mistaken identity.


He left behind a wife in Malawi and two children.


I never understood why God allowed me to escape that bullet, and someone else took it instead. His only crime was because he looked like me.


My intuition helped me to make a quick decision to escape a bullet.


But it also helps me in many different ways. And I believe that intuition is part of divine guidance.


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