Yaoundé, April 14, 2008

Greetings!

It’s hard to believe that more than a month has passed since my last posting. It has been busy, both on the personal front and on the work front, so there hasn’t been much time to sit on the balcony or to write.

When I last wrote, I had rented a house down the road, and an outside toilet had been (almost) completely built for the sentinels. The toilet is still in the same state, you’ll be glad to know, that is, all is there except the bowl and the small sink. I think the agent hopes that I’ll cave in and buy them, but that would be admitting ownership and no doubt being held liable for the cost of the total. So there it sits. The dear man is unfindable, in spite of repeated phone calls (unanswered) and e-mails (equally unanswered), although he has been sighted by André, the sentinel at the new house. I’m waiting to see what’s going to transpire on that front.

On the electrical front, there was quite a lot to do. I think I promised an amusing account on that score, and I shall not disappoint, even if sometimes events were a tad frustrating.

One Saturday, I was inspecting the house and outside toilet, together with Roger, my helpful friend from the Centre, and André, the ever-smiling sentinel at the house, the bell at the gate rang, and it turned out to be the electrical inspector cum metre reader. He had come to deliver a bill and asked me who I was! It turns out that a) the previous lessee (or the owner) had left without paying bills and that b) to turn on the electricity, this bill had to be paid. I pointed out, gently, that it wasn’t my responsibility to pay off this bill, and the electricity man agreed that it was the house agent’s business to clear things up. The latter (Mr. Olli), of course, had told me that there was no problem, and that all we had to do was to go to the electricity board, the Société nationale de l’électricité (SONEL from now on) and sign a few papers to have the electricity contract switched to my name.

André’s radio was blaring, and from the gate, it was clearly evident that it was plugged into a socket, indicating that we were using electricity. The metre man, Ben by name, expressed surprise, since the electricity had been cut off at least twice since November. So he went over to the metre to see what was going on… Imagine our surprise to find that the metre had been by-passed, and that power was being stolen directly from the grid, with no protection whatsoever. Lordy, lordy! Well, said Ben, this is not only illegal but dangerous. I totally agreed with him, and asked what he suggested. So, it was decided that the SONEL people would come around on Monday morning and cut off the wires, and thus the electricity. Then I could set up my own account with the SONEL.

That evening, Roger and I called Mr. Olli. I asked Roger to do most of the talking, figuring that messages might be clearer if passed between two Cameroonians. Roger had a hard time getting through to Mr. Olli’s head – the latter just blusters on and on and tries to bulldoze his way out of things. Mr. Olli insisted that all was well and that I shouldn’t meddle with things that didn’t concern me. I pointed out that they did concern me, since the lease clearly stated that I was responsible for all electrical bills from the time of the signing of the lease, not before, and I needed bills in my name. Plus, I said to Mr. Olli, at the moment the electricity was being stolen off the grid, and I had no desire to be fined or imprisoned for stealing from the state, and that I had given orders for the electricity to be cut off on the Monday. Dead silence from the other end…

On the Monday, Aurel (one of the night guards, the talkative one), was delegated by Roger to go to the SONEL to see what should be done once the power had been cut off by Mr. Ben. He discovered that I would need to fill out papers, pay for the installation of a metre and all its accoutrements and that a deposit would be required. I duly took out the money that was required, and he went back to make the payments (I’d also filled out the forms) and start the process. A few days later, the new metre was set up, the illegal electric wire taken down, and the legal system put in place. Phew…

No, no, the saga isn’t finished yet! The new metre was set up during the morning of a Friday, and at noon, André came around to the apartment, looking quite woebegone, saying that the power had just been cut off! He said that he’d had power for about an hour, and then a team of electricity workers had shown up with a work order to turn it off. As I had all the papers with me, he couldn’t prove that the power had just been turned on legally, and the team said they were just doing their job and showed him the work order that they had. Poor man! I sent him back to the house, saying that Aurel would be showing up shortly. Once Aurel showed up, the team came back with their boss, Mr. Ben. Mr. Ben, if you remember, had told me that he was going to make sure that the illegal power was cut off, and that was the reason for the work order. It’s just that he hadn’t got around to it on the Monday or Tuesday, as originally promised. So Aurel and Ben went back to the SONEL to see Aurel’s contact there (who happens to be the district manager, fortunately) to see what had happened. The district manager was quite surprised and apologetic, since he had forgotten that he had signed that work order before signing the order to re-install the electricity. Héhé… all was well, however, and he ordered the team back to re-install the electricity, so the power was back on by 3 p.m. I’m sure there’s a TV series to be made of all this!

I suspect that I’ve made a few people in the neighbourhood unhappy, since I’m quite sure that the illegal line was feeding quite a few households… Ah well, I’ll have to live with it! No way am I paying for everyone’s electricity – it’s expensive enough as it is!

Of course, the speed at which all this was accomplished could not have been attained without the help of baksheesh left, right and centre (plus a bottle of whisky for the district manager)! I suppose I shouldn’t be encouraging that type of behaviour, but as Aurel said, if you want to get things done, you need to follow local practices, or else end up waiting for a long time (i.e., months or years) to get your legal connection. Poor Cameroonians… Fortunately, it was Aurel doing the baksheeshing, or the price would have been higher!

Meanwhile, on the apartment front, things have been happening also. I believe that I’ve mentioned the fact that Dahirou, the older day guard, has quite the liking for little sachets of whisky. The younger guard, Mustafa, does also, and this had led to quite a few amusing, if frustrating, moments.

Relations between the various guards seemed to have deteriorated dramatically over a few weeks. I suspect that Aurel’s self-importance together with the fact that he’d been haring back and forth from the apartment to the SONEL to the house hadn’t helped (he does strut with self-importance), plus, of course, the ever present jealousy that seems to be a fact of life in Cameroon. I’m sure Mustafa and Dahirou are wondering why I didn’t ask them to do all haring around. The answer is quite simple, really: Mustafa, nice as he is, is such a wimp and Dahirou is in his cups most of the time (or snoring it off) that neither of them could accomplish much.

Anyway, the latest ruckus started on the Friday evening of the day when the electricity was finally installed, when Dahirou and Aurel had words. As stated up above, Aurel had spent most of the week fixing things up with the SONEL during the day, and still guarding at night, and by Friday, he was pretty bushed, to put it mildly. So, on the Friday afternoon, when he came to confirm that the power was on, at about 3 p.m., I told him to take a few hours to rest and that he didn’t need to report for work until 9 p.m. (he usually starts at 6 p.m.). At 6, I told Dahirou that he could go home, because Aurel would be late, as I’d given him permission to be so. Dahirou said that he’d wait anyway, and I said that it was up to him, but that he was free to go (no way am I getting into paying overtime!). Dahirou finally gave up and went home at 8. At about 8:45, Aurel showed up, in time to start his shift; he put his motorbike in the parking area, locked all the gates behind him, and was about to come up to get his bottle of filtered water, when there was a knock at the gate, and it was Dahirou, almost banging. I happened to be on the balcony and saw Aurel ask who it was (he always does) and then open the gate to say hi to Dahirou and ask what he wanted. I didn’t hear what Dahirou said, but Aurel exploded and said that he had been given permission to arrive late, and what business was it of Dahirou’s to tell him off. Hard words then seem to have been exchanged, with Dahirou wanting to come in to pick up a couple of logs he’d collected during the day (to cook on), so Aurel got them for him, but threw them over the wall! It was from my vantage point fairly obvious that Dahirou had been drinking between 8:00 and 8:45, just from the way he was walking. Aurel was furious (of course, I’m sure he’s blameless in all this, hem, hem), and phoned Roger to tell him about this (they sort of report to Roger, in the sense that he hired them all, and he’s asked to be kept informed of all that happens; a very complicated management system to be sure!). Aurel wanted Roger to go and tell Dahirou off right away, but Roger said that he’d see Dahirou the next day. Roger then spoke to me, and I confirmed just what I’d been able to hear, and of course that I’d given Aurel time to rest before coming in to work. Roger and I agreed to discuss this the next day, or Sunday, when cooler heads might prevail.

Anyway, Aurel fumed around for most of the evening (he really doesn’t like Dahirou!), pointing out that his qualifications and experience and connections were better than anyone else’s around here and rant, rant, rant! I suspect that it’s that kind of talk that gets people’s backs up (doesn’t it always?).

Roger duly came round on the Saturday, and said that we should hold another meeting of the troops to clear the air (you’ll remember that there was one in early February). He doesn’t find it normal that adults should act like children, and of course it looks bad on him, as it were. As zebigboss, I’d have to be there too, and say a few words. Lordy…

Saturday was a normal day, in that Dahirou was at work (and slept a lot!), as was Sunday, and Mustafa came on for night duty, as usual (he works Saturday and Sunday nights, Tuesdays and Thursdays during the day). On the Sunday evening, Mustafa came up at about 7 and asked me if I’d seen the bow and arrows that are usually kept downstairs for the sentinels. No, I replied, the last time I’d seen them had been the night before. He said that they had disappeared. The mystery was (somewhat) cleared up a little bit later, when Dahirou came round to say hello to Mustafa; Dahirou had taken the weapons home, claiming they were his. After Dahirou had left, Mustafa asked me if this was the case. I replied saying that I had assumed that they were mine, in that I had a bill showing that I had bought a bow and arrows back in December, and that anything that I’d bought was for use by all the guards. Mustafa didn’t say anything, just looked quizzical and off he went.

If this is starting to sound like a soap opera, you’re not wrong….

So, Monday night rolled around, and the troops were gathered by 6 p.m., including André and Roger. We congregated downstairs, with me sitting on the steps, and began. I started off first, saying that I’d noticed that there seemed to be some discord at the moment, and I was hoping that things could get resolved, since I want a team to be working for me, not a bunch of individuals (management 101!). I also said that I’d noticed that alcohol was still being consumed, and that this was a final warning – not only were they not to drink on the job, but not to drink during working hours (in case it was interpreted that it was ok to leave and drink outside on the street!). I also added that I expected them to show up for work sober, since they couldn’t be very good sentinels if a bit woozy. All very diplomatic etc.

Then the fireworks started! Roger was sort moderating the meeting, so he asked if anyone had anything to say, and Aurel started up right away – quite the harangue about Dahirou, the fact that he had dared to insult Aurel on the previous Friday, that he had no right to question Aurel’s arrival time, etc. etc, not to mention that he (Aurel) had lots of experience, etc etc. Basically, Aurel was looking for an apology for the insults (which I felt he deserved, I must admit). Of course, Aurel claimed that Dahirou was drunk at the gate, and that on a number of occasions he’d had to bang hard on the gate to be let in, especially during this week when he’d had to consult me about the electricity, etc. Aurel does go on a lot… and doesn’t help his case!

Roger waited until he’d finished, and then asked Dahirou for his side of the story. Dahirou claimed that he had just come around to pick up the bits of wood that he had forgotten, and had just asked out of curiosity why Aurel was late, and then Aurel lit into him. Of course, I couldn’t corroborate that, since I hadn’t heard what Dahirou had said outside the gate… Then Dahirou went on and on about how from the beginning things hadn’t gone well; first there was the story of the radio – I’d given Aurel money to buy a small radio for the sentinels, and within a few days, it had been broken, and couldn’t be fixed (or so I was told). So I bought another one, but the original one disappeared, probably to Aurel’s home, and Dahirou thought that this was not on. Aurel fumed at this, and interrupted (this is a no-no, since the person who has the floor is allowed to complete his piece before someone else starts talking), saying that the radio had been broken because Dahirou had fiddled with it in the first place, instead of just using it normally, and besides what about all the cigarette butts that were always being littered about and that he had to clean up when he came on duty in the evening, not to mention the fact that the cardboard he’d brought, from his own home, to put on the ground so that all the sentinels could use it to lie on when taking a brief rest, and how come Dahirou was forever taking bits of the cardboard on which he “did his doings” and then threw it over the wall, which meant that the cardboard had to be replaced, and the fact that his things are always being gone through and there are never any matches left no matter what size box is there, and on and on and on…. Lordy… He finally calmed down after Roger yelled at him and told him that Dahirou had the floor. So, of course, Dahirou lit in, saying that all these things were lies etc etc, and he had his own litany of woes, the major one being that Aurel was always late by a few minutes even since he’d got his own motorbike.

Meanwhile, I drank my iced tea, wishing it was whisky (there’s an unopened bottle of Lagavulin in the cupboard, but maybe not unopened for much longer!). Roger then asked what had happened to the bow and arrows (Mustafa had gone to tell him of this event), and Dahirou said that as they were his, he had decided to take them home. At this point, I intervened, and said (unknowingly adding fuel to this boiling mix) that I had paid for these weapons, and that I had a bill to prove it, and that I’d give Aurel the money for this purchase at the time that he had presented me with his list of necessities (I think the list is in one of the previous blogs). Well – what a ruckus! Aurel said that when he had gone looking for a bow and arrows, he had been unable to find any, and had come back to say so, while Dahirou was around. Dahirou, according to Aurel, said that he had a set, so why didn’t he sell them to Aurel for 5000 francs (about $12.50), so that’s what happened. Dahirou retorted that that was not what had happened, that he’d only agreed to lend the bow and arrows until such time as new ones could be bought, and that he’d not received any money for them. Woo-hoo… what a fight of he saids you saids etc. Somewhere, of course, there was shifty work – not that a great sum was involved, but…

All this time, Mustafa and André were just spectating, Mustafa unsure what to say, since he’s related to Dahirou, but wanted the bow and arrows back, and André, as the newcomer, just standing there with a huge smile on his face.

Roger finally took command of all this, and started his speech and giving out orders of what should now be happening. First, he summarized what we had all heard, and pointed out that we’d never know the full truth, neither about the bow and arrows, neither about the quarrel on the Friday night, but pointed out that there seemed to have been funny business originally with the bow and arrows. He added that both he and I have more to do with our time than worry about childish behaviour (“I’m ashamed of you”), there are lots of other people looking for work.

Roger then warned the drinkers (Mustafa and Dahirou) that they’d better cease and desist, as this constituted their second formal warning. Mustafa mewed at this point that he’d never been derelict in his duties, at which Roger sneered and said that Mustafa had been quite tipsy the last time that he’d been around, about ten days before, and that M. David had noticed too. Mustafa looked at me at this point, probably for support, but I had to agree with Roger that Mustafa had definitely been under the influence and that I’d even had to go down and let a guest in at the gate because Mustafa had refused to open it. Anyway, a round of dismissals was threatened again.

The meeting finally came to an end, and Dahirou, Mustafa and André all went off, with Aurel staying behind, since he was on duty..

By this time, it was about 8:30, and Roger went off home, and I sat down to finish some work. Well, it didn’t take more than 10 minutes for Aurel to come in, having knocked and then just wandering in as is his habit, to say how angry he was at a) Dahirou and b) at the Roger had mismanaged the meeting. Of course, Aurel didn’t get his way at the meeting, so I assume that’s why he was annoyed. He was most hurt at being accused of stealing (the bow and arrows and false invoice), since he thought he was helping Dahirou out (the latter never having any money) and he knew, since he’s worked with other Canadian projects, that I had to have a receipt for every expense. Anyway, he ranted on and on, I just made hum and hah noises, and looked pointedly at my computer, but nothing was going to get rid of him, so I allowed the steam to flow. He finally left me alone.

Lo and behold, ten minutes later, the bell rang, so I went out to the balcony, to see Dahirou’s smiling face looking up at me from the street, to say that Mustafa would be along with the bow and arrows in a few minutes. Off he went. Off I went, back to my papers. Ten minutes later, the bell went again, and it was Mustafa, with bow and arrows, but he refused to give them to Aurel, and insisted on coming up to the balcony, made a little speech saying that these were the bow and arrows brought back for the time being until replacements were bought, handed them to me solemnly and off he went.

At this point, I must confess I’d had enough, and told Aurel that I really had to finish this work before I went to bed, and shut the door behind him.

The next day, I had to face Mustafa, who came to work promptly at 7 a.m. (instead of around 7:15), and he too told me what he thought – he too hadn’t liked the way Roger had run the meeting. Mustafa said that Dahirou claimed that he hadn’t received any money for the bow and arrows but that they would stay here until replacements were found. Plus, he added, he (Mustafa) didn’t want to be involved in this type of disagreement, because he always took his duties seriously and showed up for work even if he’d had a few too many (!!!). I pointed out gently that I appreciated this, but that if he were tipsy, he couldn’t be an effective sentinel – and repeated that I’d had to let someone in the previous week because he wouldn’t open the gate. Of course, he swore it wouldn’t happen again, and I said I hoped not, because his contract wouldn’t be renewed if it did happen again (he has a 6-month contract). And off he went…

And so, I thought, things would remain calm… Alas, it was not to be! If you need a pause from reading, this is a good place to take a break. Maybe have a glass of whisky?

As luck would have it, on the Friday following the meeting I had one of my sleepless nights – thankfully, they are very few here – and I woke up at about 2:45. At 3, I got up, since it was obvious that I wasn’t going to sleep again unless I had a cup of mint tea or something, and while waiting for the water to boil, I thought I’d ask Aurel if he’d like some water or a cup of coffee, or something. So, I opened up the doors (this is like unlocking Fort Knox), and called down to him. No answer. A bit concerned, I must admit, I went downstairs to see if he was ok or just sleeping (which no doubt happens a lot, although Aurel will never admit to sleeping on the job!). Imagine my surprise to find that he wasn’t there and neither was his motorbike. This type of absence had happened at least once before, so I wasn’t too pleased, obviously! So much for the paragon of sentinels! And another warning coming up…

Saturday was thus spent in a bit of a haze, of course, although I had a couple of naps to recoup. I’d gone back to bed at about 5, and was awakened by the doorbell announcing Dahirou’s arrival shortly before 7. He doesn’t usually ring the bell, but he announced with a big grin that Mustafa was there also. Being rather dozy, I didn’t register (it meant that Mustafa had come for money), and just smiled, shut the door and went back in! Anyway, when I went out shopping (the highlight of the week) with Njikam, the taximan, Mustafa was nowhere to be seen, and Dahirou was snoring it off as usual – he didn’t hear me clang open the bar, unlock the door and lock it again behind me. I supposed that he’d been drinking all night, ho hum…

Dahirou was awake when I came back a couple of hours later and the rest of the day passed quietly. At about 3:30 or so, the bell rang, and it was Mustafa. He had asked me, on the Thursday, if I could give him an advance on his salary (they don’t get paid until the end of the month), since he and his family didn’t have anything to eat, and at the time, I told him I couldn’t because I didn’t have any money on me (quite true) and that I wouldn’t have any until Saturday. Hence his visit… So, I gave him all of 5000 francs, which is all I could afford, and off he went. Dahirou, who never misses a chance to get an advance, told me he had to attend a funeral and could he have an advance too, so he got his 5000 francs also. Dahirou then went rushing off (to pay something, he said, truthfully, héhé) and no doubt bought himself a couple of little bags of whisky. Anyway, he came back, and left at 6, at which time Mustafa was to come on duty for the night.

As it happened, I was on the balcony and saw Mustafa carefully approaching the apartment, from the direction of the bar, of course (I mean, it’s in the same building). He was watching his steps carefully, and talking to himself and pointing at something. I’ve seen him like this before and know that it is an indication that he is tipsy. Well…. I wasn’t only disappointed, , I was bloody mad! Apart from the fact that he’d been warned again, it meant that the 5000 francs I’d given him a couple of hours earlier, theoretically to feed his family, had gone to booze.

You’ll remember that Mustafa says he can work even if a bit tipsy. So I watched him fumble at the gate, stumble up the stairs to get the bottle of water needed to make coffee, swaying as he made the request, admired him while he looked at the box in which the coffee accoutrements live (kettle, coffee, cups, sugar, little bags of milk, mosquito coils, matches) and finally decided that he should make two trips of it (and watched him negotiate the stairs twice, almost in the hopes that he would trip!). I wasn’t quite sure what to do, to be honest; although I was fuming, I didn’t dare say anything in case I lost control and because although he’s pretty skinny, he’s also pretty strong, and I didn’t want to get into a fight. Nor did I want to hurt him, accidentally. So, coward that I am, and also wanting a witness, I called Roger (who had asked to be informed of any transgression, of course), and invited him around for a brief visit. So, a few minutes later, Roger rang at the gate. Mustafa stumbled to the gate, looked at it in perplexity, hunted for the key in his pockets (he locks the gate as well as bars it) and stumbled back to his chair, without having opened the gate. Roger rang again, and this time, I came down and let him in, with Mustafa sort of hanging over us – I’d managed to get to the gate before Mustafa stumbled back. Roger didn’t say anything, just came upstairs and said – he’s drunk again!!! Yup, I said, that’s what I wanted you to see.

Of course, a few days before at the big meeting, we had just given notice that drunkenness would lead to automatic dismissal. Roger, however, pleaded for one more chance for Mustafa, and also pointed out that we needed to follow legal procedures, which include a written warning that had not yet been written. So, we decided that Roger would go and get André and bring him in from the other house, so that he could be the sentinel at the apartment, and that we’d send Mustafa home so he could “rest”. No sooner said than done, and Roger was back with André within 20 minutes. Mustafa, befuddled as he was, wondered why André was here, and I said that I thought Mustafa should go home to rest, because he didn’t look too well, and that, as a consequence, I’d asked André to come and keep the guard. Oh no, said Mustafa, I’m not tired, I’m ok, things are fine, André can go back to the other house. Roger then lit in and said that a) it was obvious that Mustafa was tipsy and b) he was refusing a direct order from his boss. I wish I’d been able to record the ensuing conversation, with Mustafa slurring his words, saying that he wasn’t tired, that he wasn’t tipsy, that the boss was just an old man who liked him, and anyway it was up to the boss what to do – all this while the boss kept on repeating that he should go home. I have a contract, said Mustafa, who must have realized that he was in danger of losing his job. Yes, I said, but your contract says that you have to be sober when you are at work. I am sober, he said, and I’m not tired and I must do my work. And so on, and so on…

This continued in the same vein for a good twenty minutes, with André trying to talk sense into Mustafa, but without any luck. Finally, I’m not sure quite how it happened, Roger just reached out and took Mustafa by the shoulders and pushed him out of the gate, and locked it behind him. Quite dramatic, I must admit. Roger then said that Mustafa should be suspended without pay for at least a week (for gross insubordination and for showing up drunk at work), a ruling with which I agreed.

So, Mustafa had a week off, without pay, and he wasn’t too chirpy about it, especially when pay day rolled around. Everyone gets paid on the last day of the month, and in March, this was on the Monday, and everyone was paid by 5 p.m. The next day, Tuesday is a day on which Mustapha works, and he duly showed up at 7 a.m., looking a bit worse for wear – I suspect that he’d been drinking on Monday night. Anyway… I came home at noon, as usual, for my lunch break, and, also as usual, Mustafa went off for his lunch. The guards are only supposed to be away for about 20 minutes when they go to get their lunch – I’ve asked them to bring it back to eat here, since they are on duty, and when Judith (the lady who “does” for me) is here, one feels a responsibility. Anyway, I left shortly before 1 and he hadn’t returned. Judith told me later on that he did come back shortly after 1, and that she then sent him out on an errand, to buy some pineapple. I guess he went off happily, but took quite a while to come back, telling Judith that he’d stopped off to have lunch (!). Judith said that she wasn’t sure what he’d had for lunch, but anyway…

I was due at the Hilton for a meeting with colleagues at about 4:00, and had a couple of errands I wanted to run in town before getting there, so I came back to the house at about 2:30 to drop off some stuff that I might need for the evening work. I knocked on the gate as usual, since the guards always pull the bar across the gate (quite right too!). No reply – I peeked through the crack between the wall and the gatepost, and all I could see were Mustafa’s feet, sticking out from under the stairs. When Dahirou is sleeping, he lounges in the guard chair, so I can see all of him (as it were), but this was a bit worrying. Anyway, I banged louder and louder, with no reaction from the man at all. I could see that Judith was still there (fortunately! She sometimes leaves at about 2, when she’s finished her work, with my permission), so I finally rang the doorbell. Judith came to the balcony, and I shouted up at her that Mustafa was sleeping (the whole street could hear, I’m sure!), so she came down to open the gate, making sure that she made lots of noise doing so. I came into the yard, and banged the gate shut, clanged the bar across it – absolutely no movement from Mustafa. I mean, absolutely none. A bit concerned, I came up closer to him, and called his name, but to no avail. I shook him a bit, and still no reaction. There was a definite whiff of alcohol and a couple of empty beer bottles (but of course, no proof that he’d actually been doing the drinking). Since it was impossible to wake him up, I left him there (too kind, really – I should have called someone and had him hauled out, but I didn’t have time), and went upstairs to fritter around the office. When I left, about 20 minutes later, there had been no movement, and I noticed that Mustafa had left his keys in full view. So, I pocketed them, and asked Judith a) to lock the gate behind me and b) to lock the gate behind her when she left. This is what she did – I phoned her later to ask if there had been any change, and she said that when she left, at four thirty, he was still in the same position, with no movement as she clanged the gate.

The meeting turned into a supper meeting, and I got back at about 9 p.m., and Aurel greeted me like a long-lost brother, and lit into his narrative about Mustafa and Dahirou. It turns out that the keys I’d picked up were actually Dahirou’s set of keys (no idea where Mustafa’s were), and he’d come to pick them up so that he could get into his shack! So, there they were conferring through the gate when Aurel arrived, Mustafa wondering where he’d dropped his keys (maybe when I had lunch, he said, showing how befuddled he was, since he couldn’t have got back in without his keys!). Dahirou, of course, was not pleased, since it now meant that he had to break the padlock to get into the shack and he also had the keys to a neighbour’s house… The final conclusion that these fine people arrived at (naturally, I suppose), was that Judith must have taken the keys! I disabused Aurel of this notion, saying that I’d picked them up for security reasons

The next morning (Wednesday), Dahirou came up to complain that his keys had been taken and was wondering if “la dame” had taken them. I said that she hadn’t taken them, but that I had, and that I didn’t know that they were his keys. I pointed out that Mustafa was sleeping so hard that anyone could have come in to take them (etc. etc). When I came home at noon, Dahirou handed me a note that Mustafa had delivered as an apology. I just grunted, and said that I would have a letter for Mustafa at the end of the day. In the letter, I gave a last warning, and added that any transgression, no matter how small, to the rules and regulations and responsibilities would be cause for immediate dismissal. I really wanted to fire him right away, but not being able to prove he’d been drinking on Tuesday, I felt that I should give him his second written warning, as required by the law.

On the Friday, Mustafa spent most of the day here, with Dahirou, although it’s not a Mustafa day. I’m quite sure he was drinking, as Mustafa has a strange way of talking when he’s under the influence. I did ask them to be a bit quieter, a couple of times, since I was working at home with a colleague. At about 2:30, the colleague and I went off downtown – she to her hotel (she was in town from Canada for a couple of weeks) and I to the bank. When I got back, Dahirou was nowhere to be seen (neither was Mustafa), and the gate was unlocked! Before I could get in, Dahirou came rushing up saying that he’d just gone out to buy a couple of cigarettes. I told him off for a) leaving without permission and b) leaving the gate unlocked! Lordy, lordy, but patience (even mine) was wearing thin…

And it goes on! On Sunday, Dahirou asked to go out for lunch at about 11:30 (permission granted) and he was back in about 20 minutes (probably just enough time for a couple of nips; how uncharitable of me). Anyway, at about 1:15, I went out on the balcony and noticed that the bar across the gate was down, a sign that the guards are outside on the street. Curious, because I couldn’t see anyone, I went down to open the gate and peeked out. No one around and THE GATE HAD BEEN LEFT UNLOCKED AGAIN. I was furious, to put it mildly! I was just about to pull the gate to, when Mustafa came rushing up saying that Dahirou was having a discussion with a man at the bar (yeah, right) and that he, Mustafa, was coming to take Dahirou’s place. I showed my annoyance by shouting at him, saying that I was paying Dahirou to guard during the day, and what business did Dahirou have to leave and leave the gate unlocked? I stormed upstairs, clanging various gates and doors shut behind me. What I should have done, of course, was lock Mustafa out and tell him to come back at his working time, and just left Dahirou to stew, but it was too late by the time I came out – Mustafa had gone to get Dahirou and they were both there. So I just banged doors shut. And wrote a letter for Dahirou too…

On Monday (nearly done, my friends!), I announced that there would be a meeting on the Thursday evening, with all guards. I wrote out all the rules and regulations (they are included in their contracts), invited Roger to be present, and read the riot act. I read out the rules, made sure that they said they had understood them, repeated again that this was the final warning for all of them, got them to sign the sheet of paper on which the rules had been printed, gave them each a copy of the rules and sent them away.

We’ll see now what happens…

While all this was going on, the work side was quite busy. My two colleagues from Canada were here, as it is the time of year to prepare the annual report and to plan next year’s activities, so it was a busy time, to put it mildly!

This has been quite long, but I hope not too boring! Looking back on it, it’s been quite amusing, but also frustrating. I think, however, I’ll leave you for now so you can all recuperate, and will add more in a few days’ time… Life in Cameroon is anything but boring!

Cheers!

David