Grey

I was pushing the scooter up the small hill when I saw the police jeep. It was standing next to one of the first buildings in our appartment complex.

My petrol had run out (common occurrance). I had the two packets of chicken safely on me which had taken me out early on the Sunday morning (guests for lunch). I was coming home a little winded but happy to have found a shop open and to have bought fresh tomatoes and dhania from a street-side vendour.

I saw the jeep and the policemen standing around. Some in uniform. A few plain clothes. My first thought was that they are raiding one of our well-heeled neighbours.

But as I passed by the vehicles, I looked into the back and saw two old security-men. These are old men that our buildings employ as guards. Because no one wants to pay the real wages - these men are contracted out from a 'security agency.' These agencies provide the men - usually old feeble men - who sit for 12 hour shifts to monitor who goes in and out.

I saw these men sitting hunched over in the back of the police jeep.

Their faces were grey.

Almost like the dirty grey uniform that their agency decks them out with.

My first thought was that the agency itself was getting a police sweep. But when I got to our building I asked the security-man on duty what was up.

He said that a car-stereo had been stolen during the night. These men were supposed to be on duty, but were asleep.

I felt sick. Here I was returning home with chicken, about the meet wonderful friends and then go to worship at our house-church - and here were two old men who were about to be beaten.

The methods used to 'investigate' are notorious. It is well-known that local policemen take bribes from accused to 'mitigate' their questioning.

Where are these men tonight? Are they still in the lock-up? Have they managed to cough up enough cash to be released? Has one of them 'confessed?'