I never wanted guards at my house: chez moi is nestled into the hillside just above Bangui’s small city centre, and it feels discreet and safe. But armed burglaries are sadly an everyday crime here, and when I first rented this house the owner asked whether I wanted to keep on Robert, the guardian who had looked after the place for years.
Robert is a tall, thin Central African. I still don’t know his age, though he must be in his late forties – the average life expectancy for Central African men is still just 46. I liked Robert from the start: he was reliable, honest and straightforward. The only problem was that any time I tried to speak with him he put his head down and stared at the ground, refusing to meet my eyes for even a second. I asked if something was wrong and he just shook his head. I began to worry that he didn’t like me!
