Today started well. We arrived at Place de la Paix to find the UN had sorted the people: the site was under control. The people too were, almost patiently, waiting. The worst part about the morning was that the weekend's garbage had not been removed and, with the dead dog in rigor mortis, the site should have been classified as a biological weapon. (It took all my will power to keep my vegemite toast in the right place!)
After a fairly uneventful distribution to about 700 families and before the sun climbed too high in the sky (although it was 38C when we left at 10:00am) we climbed back into our vehicle, into the soothing gale of sterile air-conditioned air and we headed away, quite pleased with our efforts.
That's when the sinking feeling in my stomach commenced. Rumours of theft and profit at not just The Salvation Army's expense, but at the cost of the beneficiaries began to surface. I can't prove a thing, other than that the stock is gone, but the people I trusted, the people I pay to be on our side have apparently let me down. But not just let me down; they have stolen from their own people, for their own profit.
It has left us in an awkward position with promises made. But mostly it has gutted us. You start analysing every little thing; wondering if there is more below the surface. You start wondering if there is anything you could have done better or different to avoid this happening. And of course now I have to decide what I do about my people - I know what I feel like doing! (And I have a few suggestions from US Military personnel that secure our sight.)
