So it all started when I was suddenly awakened early one morning by Peyton, one of my roommates. He comes in my room and calmly says, “Anna, I think we’ve been robbed”. Sure enough, 4 laptops computers (one of them being mine), a camera, Kindle, iPod, backpack, and a host of other random things in our house had been stolen. The back door was wide open, so we assumed that either we forgot to lock the door or someone had a key to the door. We immediately call the police, and they quickly come over to do an assessment of the robbery. The most humorous part was when the Rwandan police officers break out the fancy camera and measuring tape, taking pictures of the empty spaces where the items were stolen and measuring the distance that the robbers had to run between the house and the outside fence. I’m not really sure what they were going to do with that information, but at least it appeared that they were performing a legit crime scene investigation to the frantic muzungus. And then the police made me get a bag and a piece of paper so that they could gather evidence, which was a huge rock that the robbers left in the place of our computers. Of course we wouldn’t want to tamper with the evidence because, you know, the fingerprint technology is really advanced here. I spend almost the entire day at the police station, describing in detail what was lost and telling them everyone that we know in town. And then I go home, fully expecting that I will never see my precious laptop with years of memories in pictures, important documents, and favorite tunes stored on it.
The police performing their high tech investigation....
So fast forward one week, after all of us had completely given up hope of ever seeing our possessions again. And here we get to the really humorous part of the story. So we are getting ready to leave for school, and Kelly gets an email from one of her friends in the US. Her friend had gotten an email from this random guy in Rwanda who said he thought he had her laptop and to call him. (Totally random that the friend was involved, just happened that this guy opened her laptop and emailed the last person who had emailed her). We quickly dial his number and find out that he does, in fact, have Kelly’s computer. Someone had tried to sell him this computer and when he opened it, he found all of Kelly’s information, pictures, etc. He was actually an honest man (miracle #1) and felt he should help Kelly get it back. And then he tells us that the man he bought it from has 8 other laptops, which we figured most likely included our other stolen laptops (miracle #2). He said that if we would come to Gisenyi (about an hour away) that he would try to help us reclaim the other computers. So I dial the police commander on speed dial, explain the situation, and an hour later we are on our way to Gisenyi in a car with three muzungus and an undercover cop. I am driving the car and flying in Rwandan terms; we only get pulled over two and a half times on our way. Lucky for us we have a policeman in the car that casually waves to his fellow officers, and we continue on our way.
We arrive and meet our tipster, John Isaac, at a nice hotel in Gisenyi (better there than the black markets in the Congo, which is what I was expecting). After a round of sodas and some causal getting to know each other talk, he brings out Kelly’s computer and gives us additional information about the whereabouts of the man who sold him the computer. While he is calling the man and planning to meet him to look at the other computers, the District Police Commander of the entire Northern Region of Rwanda, whose name is Rogers and happens to be our neighbor, is continuously calling me to get the latest info and give me tips on how to handle the situation without blowing our cover. I won’t go into all of the details, but here is when the day gets really interesting. Over the next few hours, we literally carry out a covert, undercover mission in the middle of Africa to recover our stolen goods. Several events happen in these hours, including a few meetings with the local police, a drive by house spotting where the stolen goods were being kept, and a hunt for a certain red car around town. At last, I perform a sly “drop-off” as our undercover cop and new friend go to meet the suspect at the local bank. The three muzungus in the Honda Accord try to look as inconspicuous as possible as we are hiding out in the bustling downtown trying to spy on the events happening in the bank. Meanwhile, the police bust in the bank and arrest the suspect (and our new friend John Isaac as a ploy), and we are called back to the police station to identify our property. Unfortunately the other computers ended up not being ours, but the guy said that he knew exactly where our other computers were. He was working with another guy who had bought the computers from the actual robbers, so we perform another undercover operation all over again trying to get the next suspect in line. After a long day and a lot of bonding time with the Rogers and John Isaac, we hunt down the other perpetrator who brings us back one more computer and several other small things that were stolen (down to the ink pens). Because these guys were not the robbers but just the buyers, they were very cooperative with the police in order to get off easy. However, my beloved computer was still nowhere to be seen within my own vision; therefore, I still had no hope of ever seeing it again. After all, the guy told me that my computer had already been sold in the black markets of the Congo, probably the most corrupt country in Africa.
And two days later, Rogers shows up at my door with my white HP laptop in hand, with every picture, document, and song intact. I just knew that if my computer happened to be retreived, it would for sure be cleared of any identifying information. But no…..here I am with my computer in my hands, typing away as though I never lost it in the first place. The whole experience was very surreal, and, as I emphasized in the article for the New Times, I am thankful for the hard-working efforts of the Rwandan police forces.
Sometimes God really does have a sense of humor. We are thankful for the recovery of our stuff, and occasionally laugh and ask ourselves whether it really happened or we just dreamed it all. We now see the Police Commander often, and he often assures me that I did a great job carrying out our mission and driving the "undercover" car:) We made several really good friends out of the deal and have a great story to tell our grandkids someday!
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