"It is better to be feared than loved, if you cannot be both." - Machiavelli

We learned about Machiavelli in 10th grade global studies. We talked about "The Prince," about its author and about his philosophies. I've never been sure whether I agree entirely with the fear/love concept put forth by the Italian diplomat. The more time I spend working with South African street children though, the more I think old Niccolo might have been onto something.

I was leaving Amasango yesterday around 1 with another American volunteer. We were going to lunch at Reddits, a small quaint coffee shop, on the other side of town. As the front entrance of Amasango was unlocked and swung open, Mango, a sixth grade student at the school, snuck out with us.

He looked at Matt and I and said "You're going to buy me lunch, a burger and chips."

Matt and I both looked at each other, a bit bewildered at Mango's assertion, and asked him to go back into school.

Mango refused. "I'm not going to get lunch today," he said. "You are going to buy me a burger and chips."

What he was telling us could have been true-but he was the reason he wasn't getting lunch. On Wednesday, Mango was wearing a hat in school; a violation of school rules. When Jane asked him to remove it, he refused. As she was walking by him, she took it off his head. Not happy with this arrangement, Mango began to get physical with Jane. A couple teachers and guards intervened.

"You're not allowed to have hats in school," Jane repeated to Mango.

Mango said something in Xhosa, glared at her, grabbed a piece of bread sitting nearby on a table, and attempted to bring it to his mouth. One of the adults ripped it out of his hands and Jane, again, looking him in the eye said "If you are not going to follow the rules of the school, then you don't get bread. If you are not going to follow the rules of the school, go home."

Mango was escorted off the grounds and stood just outside the fence, complaining and whining for about 30 minutes before he gave up and left.

Now here we were, a day later. Jane was dealing with another crisis and wasn't at school. The security guard who's particulary good at getting the kids to listen wasn't at Amasango, and Mango was refusing to go back to school.

I said to him, "Mango, you're going to get in trouble if you don't go back to school. Matt and I are leaving and we're not buying you anything."

Matt echoed my sentiments.

We kept walking. Mango kept following.

"You're going to buy me lunch," he taunted.

"Look," I said. "Mango, you're high. I've told you before and I'll tell you again, you're a smart guy who does stupid things. Right now, you're doing a stupid thing. Go back to school. We're not buying you lunch."

"Yes you are," Mango said.

"Mango, Matt and I are going to Reddits. We're not buying you lunch. You need to apologize to Mama Jane, then maybe you can eat at school. If you follow us, all you're going to do is cause a huge scene at Reddits and then get dragged away by Hi-Tech."

Mango looked up at me. "I'm not scared of Hi-Tech. Call Hi-Tech. Go and call Hi-Tech. I'm not scared of them."

As our exchange continued, we were nearing the South African Labor Department. The building always has a couple guards stationed outside. Matt said "There's Hi-Tech. We can just go tell them now."

"Go tell them," Mango dared.

Neither of us had the heart, or the guts to do it at that point, so we kept walking.

"Mango, I have Mama Jane's phone number, I'll call her and tell her what you're doing," I threatened.

"I'm not afraid of Mama Jane," he replied with a smirk.

I was really getting angry at this point. A high little 15-year-old was telling Matt and I how things were going to be handled.

"Mango, you're starting to really piss me off," I said. "Go back to school."

He didn't listen. We kept walking.

We were just outside a bakery when I spotted a South African Police Service car with three officers inside.

"Mango," I said, glancing over at the car. "I really don't want to do this. Please go back to school. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'm not afraid of the police," Mango said. "I'm not afraid of the f---in' police. Go tell the f---in' police. You are going to buy me a burger and chips. I'm not afraid of the police."

"Mango," I said once more. "Please go back to school."

"I'm not afraid of the f---in' police," he said again.

I stopped in my tracks, went over to the police car and knocked on the window.

"Hello," I began, then pointed at Mango. "Can you please take this boy back to Amasango? He goes to school there. He hasn't robbed us. He is just refusing to leave us alone. We know who he is. He hasn't stolen anything. But he needs to stop following us."

The officer in the driver's seat responded. "Which boy?"

Mango was about 20 feet away from us with his back pressed against the wall. "That one," I said, pointing to him. "Please take him. He won't leave us alone. He must return to Amasango."

"Okay, sir," the officer replied.

The South African Police Service got out of their car, pointed at Mango and asked him to walk over to them. He did. He didn't fight. He didn't resist.

Although he told Matt and I moments before that he wasn't scared of the "f---in' police," when they called him over, he looked fearful, and defeated.

"Good," I thought to myself. "You deserve it."

He didn't think I'd do it. I'm not sure last time I was in South Africa I would have had the guts to do it--but Amasango has taught me that empty threats are just that: empty, meaningless statements that will get you nowhere. I've learned that unless you follow through on what you say at Amasango, you won't be respected.

I love Mango--but he pushed the boundaries too far. Matt and I talked to him for nearly 20 minutes begging him to go back. He refused each time, getting some sort of odd pleasure out of the fact that he was seemingly winning this battle.

Now, the boy who wanted a burger and chips was in police custody headed back to Amasango.

Matt and I walked to Reddits.

The South African Police Service escorted him back to school.

I wish it hadn't come to that--but he gave me no choice.

I think Machiavelli is right. At least with some people, it's better to be feared than loved.