A reckless security lapse yesterday almost cost me dearly

Nov 14, 2013 Features / Columnists, Freddie Kissoon

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I called the University office (this was in January 2012) and requested that they begin to reproduce my course outlines for the courses I would teach for that semester since classes were only one week away. The administrator officer told me the dean would like to speak to me. I was then told that one week ago, my contract was terminated.
I did not believe that but it was true. My contract only had five more months to go. Then one of the most prominent academics on campus with a restrained smile on his face said to me. “Freddie can’t you see how these people see you? Try to imagine it and you would understand.” Those words somehow jolted me. No one ever put it like that to me before. And I felt an eerie feeling came over me.
Then months later I was in Dr. David Hinds’s home and we were into deep analysis on the nature of the total opposition (both political and civil society) and I began to describe for him the spouses and children of many torrid and radical critics of the government in both the opposition, civil society and at the individual level that work for the State and were never touched but they picked on my wife.
I spoke extensively to David about how hurt I was over my wife’s victimization at her State job. I described how apolitical was my wife and a woman deeply committed to her professionalism which she practiced for 14 years at her State job.
Then David Hinds used those words that were so uncannily identical to what that academic at UG told me.
In his own inimitable style with a heavy voice he said, “Freddie you don’t know how those people see you, that is your problem. Try to understand how they see you and you would understand why they did that to your wife.”
I will never forget those two conversations because they left an indelible imprint on me. Those two conversations galvanized me into a security consciousness that sometimes borders on the irrational or the extreme.
But I don’t care. I think I want to be on such a security regime because I was beginning to internalize the mystery of those two conversations.
Since then I am almost paranoid about my security. I will not describe for readers the lengths I go to but even if you think I am full of myself I will reply that who feels it knows it. I have felt it. I know about it and I will not make it easy for those who want to harm me. Yesterday afternoon at 14.00 hours, I made an error in judgement that could have cost me my life. If I was harmed then the occasion would have been triggered by my foolishness.
I arrived at the Ruimzeight cremation site at 14:00 hours for the final rites for AFC economist Bolan Boodhoo. Boodhoo was struck and killed this week by a bus driver. Something was wrong. There was just one car on the parapet. Surely, the AFC leadership would be there. It turned out that I got the timing wrong. I parked just at the entrance of the bridge that leads to the foreshore.
Dennis Atwell of the AFC said to me as I walked away, “Freddie, you didn’t lock up and the windows are down.” I said, “Leave it, we are right here and everybody can see the car.” It was a bad mistake.
I chatted with the daughter and wife of Bolan Boodhoo and two gentlemen engaged me on politics. Time to leave. As Dennis and I entered the car, I saw the little paper signs thrown all over my car. I normally carry in my car about a dozen paper signs with pins on them that say, Peaceful Picketing.” I keep them just in case. Someone entered my unlocked car.
Bolan Boodhoo’s relatives were surprised because right in the back pocket of the two front seats, were my digital camera, my MP3 with headphones and my recording equipment. Two of Mr. Boodhoo’s relatives said to me that it was strange that they didn’t take anything.
When I went into the glove compartment three pouches of documents including my national ID, two ATM cards, all my car- related documents plus many more important paper and plastic documentation were gone. About fifteen minutes after, as I was driving to Georgetown, the security at Kaieteur News called my cell to say that someone phoned in and said they found my pouches and they left a number.
I called and was told all three pouches were found at Uitvlugt. I was instructed to go deep into Cornelia Ida to retrieve my stuff. One of the guys was laughing. He didn’t sound or look right. He followed Dennis and I way out of the labyrinth and actually came into the shop with us when we stopped to quench our thirst. He was laughing all the time, then said, “Well, Freddie, see you.”
What was that all about? My wife was livid when I told her.

 

 

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