Five days ago on Independence Day eve we were all coming back to our hotel just after dinner around 11pm. The president had put on a street party with bands and there was a crush of people. Jostling my way through I had my wallet protected with one arm. In the blink of an eye I could feel my mobile phone being lifted out of my trouser pocket and, despite turning around instantly I was none the wiser who took it.
Next morning I changed passwords but was informed that I could not make a statement to police as the station was closed for Independence Day! Subsequently we went to Massawa and now that we are back I organised last night for one of our guides to accompany me to the station this morning.
My guide turned up promptly at 9 am which was a surprise. Went to the central police station negotiated our way past the AK47 toting guard and went up the grimy stairs, first one office then the other. Eventually told will need to go to another station.
We walked about 2 km to the other station again past a machine gun armed policeman only to be told that these statements are only done on Tuesdays and Thursdays, today is Monday. Nonetheless we went through the dirty courtyard past the derelict, rusted car with a couple of trailors piled on top of it and past the little veggie patch planted with silverbeet again up dusty stairs. The first guy gave us a sympathetic hearing and we all went down to the cafeteria. I had to buy 2 foolscap sheets and carbon paper for 3 Nafka (20c) and my guide wrote my report in the local language.
From there back past the beets and the car to another less friendly guy who sent us back again. On our return he relented and opened up a massive ledger book and hand wrote in it and countersigned my written form and endorsed it with a number 08/18. Not a computer anywhere and most of these supposed policemen on duty were wearing T shirt and jeans. Truly a “this is Africa” (TIA) experience.
