To kill a mockingbird
It’s all over the news, a British aid worker was shot dead yesterday, here in Kabul, a 3 minutes walk from my frontdoor.
Although this sounds quite bad, at first, specifically taking into account that some people I know knew the man personally. What’s more, the man was about to marry and also about to become a father, with his wife residing in the US, set to leave Kabul at the end of the week.
However, looking at the incident more closely, some interesting things come up:
1. After chilling at the Elbowroom (where I had dinner only two days ago), he left in a marked ministry car (he was working for the Ministry of Rural Rehabilitation and Development) but was immediately followed by two cars, one of which, at least, was a black 4×4.
2. While one of the cars stayed behind his vehicle, the second cut him off, right infront of the Dutch embassy and also infront of the UNICA guest house (for UN people only). This road, particularly this stretch, is controlled quite a bit. The Dutch embassy and the UNICA have guards posted outside, 24×7.
3. The Brit was shot dead, the killer only needing one bullet.
4. The Brit was working on a rural credit scheme, one of its aims being to reduce the dependence of farmers on growing opium.
To me it’s obvious: The man was executed, this action was very much targeted at him, not at the expat community in general.
However, DACAAR issued a directive today, stating that, until more information becomes available ‘All expatriate staff must restrict unnecessary movement in Kabul city after 20.00 hours’.
DACAAR claims it allows its employees full freedom, only advising on safety measures. Not, so it seems. DACAAR is following the recommendation from ANSO, the Afghanistan NGO security office (what a crappy site!).
Crap! Crap! Crap!
And we were planning to go the Mustafa tonight, enjoying free Tai food and cheap beers.
What’s more, our plan of visiting Mazar-e-Sharif next week with now rooz might now become hellishly difficult, DACAAR not letting us go out of the city…
Small world
And, yes, it’s a small world. A good friend of mine from Mongolia, his wife, she knew the guy from high school.