Sed quis custodiet ipsos custodes? [But who will guard the guards themselves?

Abstract

Juvenal had adultery in mind when he wrote that, but I use it in a Zimbabwean context where the distinction between those who administer the law and those who break it, has become blurred. Do not underestimate the guilt that runs through the veins of half-decent white people who, for decades, benefitted from the exploitation of black and brown people. But do not take advantage of their guilt too often, like my erstwhile friend, Assistant Inspector Takesure Mararike [not his real name], who robbed me of my Toshiba laptop, my soul. One morning I heard a banging at my gate, and there was Takesure with his pretty young wife, Cleopatra. He was a radio technician with the Zimbabwe Republic Police, and he had recently been transferred from Gwanda. He needed temporary accommodation, until the Force found him a house, and he had heard that my servant's quarters were vacant. Indeed they were; for good reason--they consisted of one cramped room, a toilet without a seat, a shower without hot water, and a grimy fireplace. These kayas, as they were called, symbolise the contempt with which settler employers treated their indigenous domestic workers. I said I was ashamed of the place, but if he was desperate he was welcome to stay there, free of charge for as long as necessary. That very afternoon he moved in, with his wife and three little children. I asked him to go easy on the water and electricity, both scarce and expensive commodities in Bulawayo, but said he could help himself to as much firewood as he needed. (It was only after they had left that I discovered his wife had sold my entire woodpile to passers-by.) The next day there was a knock on my door and I ushered in Takesure, looking very smart in his police uniform. He told me, over a cup of tea, how tough things were in these days of economic meltdown in Zimbabwe. He had heard that telecommunication companies in New Zealand were keen to recruit radio technicians from African countries, and could I help him with enquiries? | sat him down next to my Toshiba laptop and together we surfed the Net until we found some friendly and helpful New Zealand websites. It looked as if there were indeed jobs going for radio technicians. I helped Takesure create a neat resume, and we used my email address to apply for a job through Telecom Human Resources. A week later, Takesure and his family were gone and so were my Toshiba laptop (my entire database), my son's bicycle, 25 litres of petrol, my backpack, my torch, and a change of clothes, which included my colourful woven belt from Guatemala, the only one in town. The police would not touch the case, and passed me on to the C.I.D., who invited me for questioning the following day. My immediate concern was to visit my Internet server in order to download any emails that had accumulated since the theft. There was one from the Telecom Recruitment Team: Dear Takesure A job opening matching your profile for a position to help Kiwis get connected has just been posted in our Career Section. If you would like to apply ... etcetera. …