Attempted Robbery

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

I was woken in the early hours of the morning by some noise at my front door.  I’m used to waking up to noises here – weather can make a lot of sound with a tin roof and metal door.  Then I looked towards the door and saw a light that I thought was lightning.  After a few seconds I realized that it wasn’t a normal noise and it wasn’t lightning.  Then I thought it was a meflo-dream (a side effect of my malaria meds is weird dreams and it was the night of the week I usually have them), but quickly realized it wasn’t that either.  I yelled out ‘what the f***’ and started to get out of my mosquito net.  By the time I got to my window, the guy that had been trying to break into my house was running away.  I yelled out in what I felt was a loud and scary voice, ‘hey!’ but he was pretty much gone by that point. 

The rest of my night was a waste.  I got up and made sure my kitchen door was locked (it’s detached from the house) and that my door wasn’t broken or anything.   It was also the middle of the night and I wasn’t thinking clearly, so I looked to make sure my expensive stuff was still there, even though the door was still closed.  I couldn’t really get back to sleep.  Every time I got close I thought I would hear something and jump up again.  It’s not my safety that I’m worried about; it’s the safety of my laptop, camera, and even my gas bottle (that cost me more than $80).  Just a couple of weeks ago a friend of mine in Garoua got home from being gone for a while and her gas bottle and stove had been stolen. 

The next morning when I finally got up, I went to get beans and beignets for breakfast and texted my post mate about it while I was eating.  He told me to call our logistician about it.  I hadn’t called yet because I’m worried that any incident up here will get us closed, but that is probably just me being paranoid.  I called Bouba and he was really helpful.  He called up the police, gendarmes, and the chief of my quarter.  He wanted all of them to go to my house so people in the community could see them there – maybe that would scare anyone who wanted to rob me in the future. 

The police and chief of my quarter showed up first and in force.  There were probably six cops in their full uniforms who looked around my place, asked me questions about what happened, and talked to my neighbors.  I’m glad they did too.  I tried to tell my neighbor, Habiba, what happened, but she doesn’t understand a lot of French, and based on the smile she had, she didn’t get what I was saying.  My Fulfuldé is nowhere near good enough to tell her what happened.  The police commissioner, who I’ve met before on several occasions, pointed out that it looks like they tried to pry the door open with a crowbar or something; it was pretty bent. 

He had a couple of suggestions for what to do to increase my security.  There were some walls from old buildings in my front yard that he said someone could hid behind with a knife that he wanted demolished.  He also said I should put a couple more loops on my door so I could padlock the top and the bottom.  He then called my landlord and told him what happened and to fix those things.    

I don’t know why, but my French was horrible when I was talking to the police.  I just got nervous and couldn’t think of how to say what I wanted to.  It kind of sucks that after being here so long I can still get tripped up that easily.  I’ll just have to practice more. 

A couple of gendarmes showed up not long after and asked why I hadn’t called them when it happened.  I said that I forgot, but that I would next time.  They left pretty quickly.  I have to say, this incident just reassured me how much the community cares about our safety.  Within minutes of calling them there were almost ten people from different parts of the community there to help, or at least show a presence. 

Salle, the guy who is the repairman for my landlord, also came over very quickly.  It took him less than an hour to put the loops on the door and knock down the walls.  The walls were just old mud brick with some plaster, so all they had to do was push.  Which leads me to another positive to come out of this: now I have a place that I might actually be able to put a garden, and the mud brick just became a pile of dirt! 

I sent Ruth, our Peace Corps security person, an email about it.  She called me within a couple of hours to get the details of what happened and make her own suggestions for how to increase my security. 

We think the guy took a can of paint and a bar of soap I used to wash dishes that I had on my porch, but other than that, nothing was stolen or broken.  All in all, things turned out pretty well, and all I really lost was a night of sleep.