The policeman peered[1] in through the open window of our car. “Can I borrow...?” he began. My heart sank.
This was our sixth police checkpoint in an hour. We were in Marange district, Zimbabwe’s eastern diamond heartland.[2] The sand, silhouetted baobabs, and the ever-present security forces made it an eerie place.[3]
Diamonds were first found in the area in 2006, sparking a massive gem rush.[4] Students threw schoolbooks into the bushes in their hurry to dig, their teachers following them in a crazed search for instant riches.
In late 2008, President Robert Mugabe ordered a controversial military clampdown to reassert state control.[5] The authorities have been battling ever since to get the diamonds certified blood-free[6]. Foreigners venturing[7] into the area are viewed with suspicion: They might be diamond buyers or illegal dealers.
With the policeman’s eyes upon me, I steeled[8] myself. I knew that like most of Zimbabwe’s civil servants, policemen are badly underpaid. (In fact, public service unions are clamoring for a share of the state’s diamond wealth to be put into long overdue salary increases.)[9]
“... one of your books?” the policeman finished. He pointed to the dashboard[10].
My books! I’d almost forgotten them. Before leaving home, I had bundled three paperbacks into the car, hoping to while away a hot journey with a pleasant read.[11]
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