MUSTAPHA AJBAILI
Driving on a curvy and dangerous road along one side of a deep gorge carving of a mountain range toward the south of Morocco, I was pulled over by a Royal Gendarmerie officer forming a security checkpoint in the entrance of the city of Bouizakarne. The officer saluted me and asked me to step out of the car and join him inside the gendarmerie office built on the roadside.
It was my first time ever to be pulled over by a police officer while driving in Morocco. Inside the building, the young officer asked if I knew why I was pulled over. The only reason I could think of was that I overtook a truck while driving on a section of the road now left behind. But my reason seemed to lack some logical sense because I was the fourth in a series of drivers who all overtook the truck when the road appeared to be sufficiently clear ahead; yet no other one of those drivers was stopped at the checkpoint. I told the officer the reason I had in mind, anyway.
“But excuse me, officer, are you being selective in implementing justice?” I replied.
He stretched his right hand and grabbed my papers I had placed on his table. After examining my papers, he said, “Welcome home, this is how it goes here.”
He proceeded with the question, “What do you do in Dubai?”
“I am a journalist,” I replied and handed him my journalist ID card.
“Ahhh, you are a shadow soldier,” he said.
[silence]
“And how much do you get paid over there?” he asked.
“I will tell you, if you promise not to fine me,” I said.
He smiled, handed back the papers to me and wished me safe trip.
I stood up, walked a few steps and stopped. I turned my head toward him and asked, “By the way, how do you people know if someone does a traffic violation in those mountains…any hidden cameras?”
“We have a man sitting on that cliff and watching cars driving through that curvy road. He calls us if he sees someone does something wrong,” the officer said.
I laughed and walked out.
“I told you welcome home,” the officer shouted.