Over the next few weeks I’m going to be helping badgers.

Or rather doing what I can to fight the government’s plans to kill thousands of badgers in a series of culls starting around the 1st of June in the west of England.

Rather than spend all my time in a badger costume on the tube I thought I ought to educate myself about the real facts.

Here’s my best shot. Excuse the pun.

If you don’t want to read this watch David Attenborugh instead:

 

 

 

WHY ARE THEY DOING IT?

Bovine tuberculosis (bTB) – that’s the sole reason.

bTB in cattle is a big problem. Not only does it kill cows but it can, in theory, pass to humans meaning strict controls are leading farmers to have to destroy large numbers of their herds because they might be sick with bTB. bTB is on the rise and it’s costing the lives of cattle and effecting the livelihood of farmers and costing the tax-payer money.

There is evidence that badgers can carry and transmit bTB to cows. Therefore killing badgers seems a good way to control the problem. At least at first glance

 

WILL THE CULL WORK?

This is the controversial bit. Or to be more accurate – scary and insane bit.

An independent ten year-long government research study run by top scientists concluded that a cull would have no meaningful effect on the bTB problem in cows. In some cases it could make it worse by encouraging surviving badgers to flee the area and potentially infect new populations with TB. The greatest possible benefit to bTB control would be a 16% reduction but only after 9-10 years of repeated culling of multiple thousands of badgers.

The study cost around £49 million of tax payers money and led to 11,000 badger deaths as well as vast numbers of orphaned cubs left to die of starvation.

Lord Krebbs, the eminent scientist leading the survey, said a cull was ‘crazy’ and passionately argued against it as a solution to bTB. All this from a scientific, not an ethical, stance.

The results were conclusive: the governments very own research found that a cull would wipe out well over half of Britain’s badgers, it would cost a huge amount of time and money and it would not have a meaningful impact on bTB, in some cases it could make it worse.

 

IF IT GOES AGAINST ALL SCIENCE WHY ARE THE CULLS GOING AHEAD?

I’ve scoured the internet and spoken to many experts to get a reasoned argument for the cull and can not find a single one.

The ONLY logic I can understand is that farmers are desperate about bTB (which is understandable) and want something done NOW (which makes sense) but don’t care very much what it is (which is foolish).

It is no coincidence that the National Farmers Union has a strong hold over the government.

Badgers are being used as a scapegoat. Badgers are being used by the government to win over the NFU. Culling badgers is a political exercise and is a non-solution. To make matters worse, last autumn the government had a vote which showed that most MPs are against the cull. We also know that the public is overwhelmingly against it – and yet the government are still going ahead.

Shocking stuff.

Professor John Bourne, Chair of the independent scientific group on bovine TB said this:

‘I think the most interesting observation was made to me by a senior politician who said ‘Fine John, we accept your science, but we have to offer the farmers a carrot. And the only carrot we can possibly give them is culling badgers’

ARE THERE ANY OTHER SOLUTIONS TO BOVINE TB?

It’s all very well hating the badger cull but what do we do about Bovine TB?

Well, contrary to what you might have heard there are viable alternatives. The problem is the cost. But only in the short term. In the long term the solutions will be far cheaper.

Vaccinate badgers – the easiest solution is to vaccinate badgers against TB. The problem is we have to catch them and release them. Money. Except there is an oral vaccine that will soon be available to spread on the floor.

Vaccinate cows – we can easily stop TB in cows by vaccinating them.

The problem is we can’t sell beef oversees that has been vaccinated as there is no way to tell difference between vaccinated and unvaccinated cattle. Too complicated to explain now but a new ‘DIVA test’ is underway that can sort this out. It just needs time and money.

Stricter controls of transportation of cattle – yes, but money needed

Bio security – better cleanliness to stop the spread of bTB across cows. Time and money

THERE ARE LOTS OF SOLUTIONS IF WE TAKE THE TIME AND MONEY IN THE LONG TERM.

 

WHY SHOULD WE CARE ABOUT BADGERS?

Badgers have lived in the UK for at least 250,000 years and are an iconic part of British wildlife. They are also a protected species under law (except when the government wants to shoot 70% of them). And also, I hate to say it, but badgers do feel pain and they are sentient. Let’s not give them the vote but let’s give them a life.

 

WHAT CAN I DO IF I AM AGAINST THE CULL?

1) Sign the government petition here: http://epetitions.direct.gov.uk/petitions/38257

2) Come on a public march against the badger cull on 1st June in London. Read more here You can all join me and we can walk together.http://www.londonagainstthecull.org.uk/

3) Tell your friends about all of this!

4) Read my blog and spread the word further and wider on facebook and twitter. Subscribe above or click on the twitter/fb links

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I’ll be brief because I’m exhausted. 

I’ve just come back from pretending to die on the underground dressed as a badger.

I’ve been doing this with members of Network for Animals and a performance group called Artful Badger in protest at the upcoming badger cull in the UK. I ended up kissing another man-badger in front of an anti-gay marriage protest outside parliament (see video below). It’s always good to tackle two issues at once.

As some of you may know, on the 1st of June the government in the UK plans to go ahead with a highly controversial cull which will see thousands of our black and white fury friends shot dead around the west of the country in an attempt to control the severe rate of tuberculosis (TB) in cows. The idea stinks. Not only will it result in huge death and suffering for the badgers but multiple top independent scientists have agreed it will likely do little for the cows and might actually make it worse.

I’ll go into this in more detail later but this has awoken me from my political slumber. I only voted in the last election because I wanted to see if I could mark  the paper with an X whilst closing my eyes. And I’ve never understood why people get angry at politicians – it’s not a job I would want so I’m unwilling to throw any rotten tomatoes. But now I understand what motivates protests and marches.

 

Not only has the idea of the cull been opposed by a majority of MPs in a non-binding vote last Autumn but its also goes massively against public opinion. I don’t understand where the democracy bit fits in.  I’ve looked at the arguments closely and it seems the ONLY reason the coalition could be doing this is to keep the National Farmers Union happy by taking some sort of action – however badly – rather than doing nothing.

So in protest I joined Network for Animals and the wonderful performance group, Artful Badger and went ‘underground to die’. Sort of. It’s artistic licence innit. The point is that when people shoot the badgers its highly likely that many badgers will not be killed immediately and retreat to their setts to die a slow death underground.

At the end of the day, when we saw a large group of people protesting about gay marriage outside parliament we thought we steal their limelight for a moment by kissing same-sex infront of the cameras. The christians went crazy at us with one man saying that gays die much younger.

Weirdly I look like I’m totally and utterly drunk, which I am not. Kind of weird. But worth it for the badgers I suppose.

WRITE TO DEFRA TO COMPLAIN ABOUT THE BADGER CULL HERE

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Damn.

 

There’s so much I can’t tell you. 

I can’t tell you about my trip to the far corner of India, I can’t tell you about trying to smuggle myself illegally over the border into Myanmar, I can’t tell you about the stolen bear that I found, I can’t tell you about the very rare gecko that I released into the deep forest (an endangered specimen no less) and I can’t tell you about getting apprehended by separatists….

I like to think I’m a wanted international agent…but the truth is that I’ve turned over the location of a trapped wild animal to the authorities who need to carry out a suprise raid. Until that goes ahead nothing can be leaked.

Needless to say you assume I’m making it up. Which of course I may be. But I have the mascara to prove it.  And furthermore I have a very special watch that I used to get secret photos.

JUST IN CASE YOU ARE INTERESTED, INSTRUCTIONS FOR AN INDIAN SECRET CAMERA WATCH:

” This product is simple, small and exquisite, beautiful and practical, is home security, education, essential areas of life, utility, well all the customers.

Enter the default camera, sound recording standby mode, after the boot of any state. Save the file and shutdown :long earthquake the machine twice 

Changing the date: According to the computer configuration or system differences, identify the time of disk is slightly different, please be patient…best not to Jinxing the camera.”

My taxi driver wants my monkey fruit in the correct order.

For the last few days I’ve been driving around India with a Sikh taxi driver who has been extremely kind and extremely enthusiatic about being a Sikh. Everyday he tells me about his turban and Sikh traditions , which is very interesting. In return I have been telling him about saving animals which he finds equally interesting. Turban – monkey – beard – dog. Rather weirdly he’s also been telling me about his favourite fruit and putting them in order of preference…and quite often getting it wrong

‘Mango is number one fruit!’ he calls out whilst swerving through traffic. Then a few moments later:  ’No – mistake.  Kiwi is number one!’ I wonder how one can get one’s favourite fruit wrong.

Finally after three days of driving he asked me if I actually liked monkeys.

‘Of course I do. Very much’

‘Which is number one? Monkey or dog?’

‘They are both number one’

‘Will you take some home? Monkeys?’

‘It might be hard’

‘Just go to parliament. They have many monkeys there’ I laughed at his sly political joke. He didn’t smile.  ‘No really, they will give you eight monkeys. You take them home because no one wants them here’

‘But I can’t take them on the plane just like that.’

‘You can get money by making them dance. People want photos’

Oh no, I thought. There’s clearly so much work to do out there. Even this lovely man wants me to make monkeys dance.

But then he said something else: ‘We love monkeys. They are one of our gods’

And then I realised: nowhere is man’s kaleidoscopic view of animals more colourful – and confusing – than it is in India. They swerve to avoid cattle in the street and then  happily leave a dog dying in the dust. Hinduism, one of the most prevalent religions in India, is rich with its array of animal gods that demand worship and yet on an everyday level there is so much animal suffering ignored on the street.

Wildlife SOS are doing great work tackling these complex but vital issues in this wild and colourful land – and at the helm is a charasmatic, unpredictable, energetic and surprising invidual in Kartic.

Support him and the team here. If and when this animal is released I can fill you in on some more adventures.

 

Back home to save badgers

I am returning to the UK to work on the crucial issue of the upcoming badger cull – proposed to start JUNE the 1st.  More info to follow

 

NEXT BLOG: I DRESS UP AS A BADGER AND DIE ON THE LONDON UNDERGROUND IN PROTEST.

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BUY A SET OF 10 POSTCARDS FROM MY PREVIOUS VISIT TO ‘THE ARK’ DOG SANCTUARY IN INDIA – MONEY GOES TO THE RESCUED DOGS.

PRESS HERE TO DONATE £12.50 + PP  (=£15 UK, £17 EU, £19 ROW). MARK YOUR DONATION ‘POSTCARDS’. ALL THE IMAGES CAN BE SEEN BELOW 

As I flit around the world, stroking a bear here, catching a dog there, I feel a little like a compassion tourist. I touch suffering and then move on. It’s easy to forget that real dedication requires staying in one place. 

Today I had a catch up with Avis by phone, the inspirational woman who runs The Ark dog rescue shelter in Kerala, India and it reminded me how tough things can be if you are committed to one cause.

‘I don’t know if I’ve really made that much difference, Martin’ she said in a low voice.

I was shocked. ‘What? You’ve done so much. What are you saying?’

 

‘Over eleven years I’ve sterilized 6000 dogs but where are they? I don’t see any. We release them  and I see them all on the road – they are territorial after all, I know where they live – and then the next day they disappear. When that happens you know they are being rounded up and killed. The government says it sponsors the ABC programme [Animal Birth Control] but really they don’t. They want the dogs off the road so they kill them.’

‘But what about all the injured dog’s you’ve been treating and caring for?’

‘Yeh, there is that. But Martin, I’m leaving the ABC programme. I can’t afford it and there is no point. It is too corrupt out here. I’ve spent everything on this. I’ve spent my entire house. Eleven years of work. And yet I feel like I am letting the animals down by stopping sterilisation. But I’m too old now. I’ve only a few years left and I have to concentrate on the sick animals that come in.’

It hurt me to hear that. Avis is far stronger than me and I can only imagine her winning. She is still winning of course, she’s caring for hundreds of dogs, but it’s tough to hear she is stopping the sterilisation programme.

 

Mad, my Indian friend

‘You know that Mad came to see me’ said Avis.

Mad, the aptly named character I had met when working with Avis called me a few days ago to say that he was out of cash. His family were not supporting him any more and he had no where to stay. I recalled our heady conversations in a bar when I told him the virtues of following one’s heart and how he should give it all up to help animals. The next day he started helping wildlife but apparently snakes didn’t pay the bills. And then, he told me, he crashed his motorbike. It was as if my inspiration talk had ran out and he hit a brick wall, literally.

‘Was he badly injured?’

‘He was hobbling. He said he’s gone back to the army’

 

Mad’s facebook page now has photos of him holding guns and pictures of rad army jeeps. I wonder if he’ll ever go back to helping animals. I don’t know if one can be vegetarian and shoot an AK47

However, I recognise both Avis’s and Mad’s struggle in myself. I too am riding a motorbike down a long road and feel I am low on fuel and have little money and may steer off course at any moment. The toughness of daily life then threatens to come crashing into the aspiration to be kind and compassionate.

The business card manufacturer MOO.COM (check them out, great for making your own postcards and business cards) has kindly given me some postcards that I can print and sell in order to raise money for a Year To Help cause.

We are not going to let Avis get down and she still has hundreds of dogs to look after. I’m selling all the above images of her dogs as a pack of 10 postcards for £12.50+ PP (send £15 total in UK, £17 Europe, £19 ROW)

CLICK HERE TO ORDER, THEN PRESS ‘DONATE’ AND FILL OUT YOUR TOTAL MARKING YOUR ORDER ‘POSTCARDS’

 

 

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This is a tricky post. 

I’ve been fairly quite the last few days about what is going on in India. This does not mean I’ve been quiet on my journey.

I’m dying to tell you about the latest adventures but information is extremely sensitive.  Perhaps in a few days I can write some more. Very frustrating.

As I progress on this year I’m finding more and more that I end up in hazy worlds of secrecy, threat and uncertainty.  The pursuit of animal rights (and welfare) so often comes up against legal barriers, unsavoury people and cultural resistance. I see it as a sign that many animals  live on the jagged edges of our society. Although I am often little more than a bystander with a camera I’m surprised that my desire to help has forced me into compromising decisions.

Perhaps I am naive to have ever assumed otherwise.

Already there have been stories on this blog that I’ve had to water down for the sake of my own safety. Perhaps I can tell more when I write the book, perhaps I cannot.

I want to reiterate again – maybe more to my wife and family than to you – that I am not  going to take unsavoury risks. I am simply not brave enough. But I do want to pursue that very faint beam that my heart throws out in front of me into the darkness..

 

Some criticisms from Daily Mail readers – and my answers

The responses I’ve had to the Daily Mail article have been incredible. So many emails and offers of support for Mango that it will take a long time to go through them to reply. But some criticisms too. I want to provide some reasonable replies to those. I’m all for being criticised if it engages.

 

COMMENT 1:

“The people of the United Kingdom ..do not realise in the Philippines there is no state benefit, a man with no skills working full time cannot but keep the wolf from the door…in these circumstances a little protein, from whatever source is very welcome and necessary to sustain human life.”

MU:  The Philippines is a certainly a poor place and many people struggle to survive. But so often dog-meat is eaten by well t0-do people. It is considered a cultural delicacy rather than an essential protein.  It is, I am sure, far cheaper to sustain a healthy lifestyle on grains and vegetables than on dog meat.

 

COMMENT 2:

“Dog meat trade is illegal in the philippines and it is only in the far far north that these dogs are taken and considered a delicacy NOT IN MANILA. I feel that parts of these story are made up as he was offered dog meat as pulutan? i cant help but feel skeptical that some are made up for press release. The government are doing its job to put a stop to this illegal dog meat trade also a lot are already educated about posible rabbies contamination. And if you are so sincere about animal cruelty then stop eating pigs chicken fish and cow! you guys even eat ponies and rabbits! “

MU: Yes, dog meat is illegal in the Philippines but it is NOT true that dogs are taken only in the far north. While dogs are mostly eaten in places like Baguio they are harvested all over. And this is part of hte problem. The long journeys – where up to 90% can die – are awful. Furthermore the government is NOT doing its job as the trade continues underground.

However your point about eating horse and rabbits etc is well made and there is a certain hypocrisy to our reaction to dog meat if we are eat other meats.

 

COMMENT 3:

“The dog could and would be found a good home here in the Philippines whrein it is acclimatised, it’s a waste of time and money to cart it all the way to the UK where it would probably shivver to death.”

MU: It is not always easy to rehome a dog in the philippines I am sorry to say. Plus, I felt responsible for getting this dog to safety and I am based in UK not in philippines.  There is, however, a fair point to made about the money spent to get this dog to London. Could it have been spent better on multiple dogs out there? Possibly – but two things 1) I am using Mango’s story to raise awareness for the issue 2) Compassion, as I repeatedly say, is not always about maths and logic. It is about following your heart. I want to do whatever I can for each animal I meet in distress.

 

COMMENT 4:

“Do you think just maybe this has more to do with his pet photography business than actually wanting to save the dog? “

MU: I don’t have a pet photography business! And cute photos of stray dogs don’t help the sales of my ‘serious’ art photography in galleries at all.

 

COMMENT 5:

“It is good that this dog has been rescued, but why has he gone to all this effort to bring the dog to the UK if he is not prepared to look after it himself. Seems like he is just trying inflate his own ego rather than look after these dogs.”

MU: as most of the regular blog readers know I have made a promise with Ann – and my dogs – that while I am off travelling the world I will not turn our home into noah’s ark, as much as I woudl like to.  I knew, at the start of this project, I could write the ‘sanctuary’ story and collect more and more crazy animals that end up fighting in the kitchen. But I decided instead to travel and help out in the field.

But, yes, it is true, I have an ego. Often I wonder if I am writing about this stuff because I want to appear ‘good’. Ultimately, however, I hope I’m doing it because I really want to help. I think I am.

 

COMMENT 6:

“I’m sorry but what right has this man to mess with what is Filipino national tradition?”

MU: Actually, I find this the hardest comment to answer.

What right does anyone have to tell anyone else how to live? It is comforting to think that compassion rises about cultural differences and that if we see another person harming a being we have the right, despite our nationality, to say ‘STOP’. But do we? I’ve no doubt that my lifestyle also inflicts pain – further down the chain of events. I drive a car, I have eaten meat, I don’t recycle everything etc etc.

But once more I repeat the point that I am reacting to each animal I see with my heart. If I can help it I will. I do not claim to be

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Mango is now officially British – she has appeared in the Daily Mail Online.

She’ll soon be eating fish and chips, hailing black cabs and complaining about the weather.

Read here:

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2322974/Blog-campaign-saved-puppy-Phillipines-dog-meat-markets-Now-needs-loving-home-UK.html?ito=feeds-newsxml

TO DONATE MUCH NEEDED FUNDS TO THIS YEAR-LONG PROJECT CLICK HERE

PLEASE NOTE:

You can still buy prints of Mango here. HOWEVER,  because we now have enough money to transport her back to the UK and because the Year To Help funds are DISASTROUSLY overdrawn the money will go to funding the project and helping more animals.

(incidentally, if anyone out there knows how on EARTH I can raise more money to keep this project alive till the end of the 365 days please send a message to martin@yeartohelp.com. I’m so over budget I might tip Britain into a quadruple dip recession. I need the advice and a chat with a fundraiser or sponsorship type person. I’m rubbish at it. thank you. )

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I wanted to check up on the little Delhi street dog with the leg scar that had followed me the other day.

‘Tommy’, (who is in fact a girl – let’s call her Tammy for now) ended up being taken to a charity shelter called ‘Friendicoes’, which happens to be the dog shelter started and run by Kartick’s working partner at Wildlife SOS, Geeta Seshamani

I went to visit the shelter and Tammy bounded up to me perfectly happy despite the large strapping on her legs that had been put on to treat the wound.

The enthusiasm of youth seems to immunise puppies from a certain amount of pain. And now her life had changed completely and she didn’t seem too fazed – from a dirty car park to a rescue centre and soon…she’ll be going to a new home.

While I was at the centre I looked around at the other dogs there. Whereever you go in the world there is a level of brutality to some dogs that is hard to understand.

Tammy is going to be cared for until she recovers and then they’ll look to find her a new life.  I’ll try and keep up with her story but if anyone wants to donate directly to the centre they are desperately in need of cash (or to me, marked ‘TAMMY’ and  I’ll make sure its passed on to her directly)

 

 

As per usual you can buy any prints from this blog according to the sizes of the prints here, marking your donation TAMMY so I can make sure it gets to them.

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I’m now back in Delhi and just when I thought I could relax this puppy would NOT leave me alone.

I’ve got him into a sanctuary after I saw he had a small but nasty cut on his thigh. He should find a new home. This one for all you dog lovers out there. I just can’t leave them alone…

 

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I’m in a strange situation.

I’m walking into a small village accompanied by thirty policemen, many with guns.  We are looking for a single illegal bear cub. Our intelligence is rock solid, I’m told that Kartick has not failed on a mission like this for ten years but I fear we are about as conspicious as a burning meteor.

What is the point of my cunning disguise? Will anyone appreciate my mascara?

The police and Wildlife SOS team park the cars 100 metres from the entrance to the Muslim community.

‘Too dangerous to go closer’ says the officer with three stars on his shoulder. The informer seems mighty nervous.

We all flow down the street and turn into an ever-narrowing alleyway, pushing onward ike a stream forcing new channels. Children poke heads out of doorways and then retreat to let us past.

 

Monkeys

I see monkey’s chained to walls, one seems blind and truly terrified.

‘Can we rescue these?’ I asked my guide/rescuer keenly while taking some photo. I am told to keep quiet and move on. The monkeys need help but first we must get the bear.

 

Do not lose your man, Martin.

We enter the main area of the community where families come out to see the commotion. It its a sunny day, no one in the community has guns, kids are around, I’m surrounded by police. Suddenly it all feels safe. What was I worried about?

But my UK antennae are not tuned to Indian life. In London I can read undercurrents of aggression from a hundred metres. I learnt it at school when Louis Peterson threatened to beat me up for accidentally hitting him on the head when I threw a basketball and missed the hoop by about ten metres. He prowled the school and I watched his every twitch. But here it seems to me that all is calm. When a man brushes past me, knocking my camera I presume it is an accident. When it happens again I forgive him too easily. Thankfully in a few minutes I’ll be forced to get out of here before I find that on the third strike I might be out.

Police start tapping on doors. No bear here. More doors are knocked. Then one is smashed down. People come to crowd around.

Still no bear.

I see two more monkeys tied by chains but this time their necks are held together by a few links. I go to take photos. The camera is a dangerous thing. When pushed to your eye its offers a safe and dark enclosure.

 

My mind climbs into the camera and looks out of its neat window. Snap, snap, snap. When I put the camera down I see that my guide has gone. Do not lose your man, Kartick told me

I call my man quicky. ‘Come, come!’ he says frantically. But I don’t know where he is. The police are dispersing in three different directions so I follow the ones with the biggest guns – as you do.

‘I’ll meet you by the monkey’ I say, which is about as useful as telling a farmer you’ll meet him by the sheep.

‘Come now, come NOW!’ he says more urgently.

Has he found the bear?

We go faster now. When I turn the corner I see my guide in the distance waving to me. I run over and he pushes me into the car and we race off down small streets which become ever wider as we reach safety.

‘Do we have the bear?’ I ask as I look back at the receding plume of dust behind the car.

‘No. We have to go. It was getting very dangerous.’

‘It was? ‘

 

Undercurrents at work

So we never saw the bear.

Why?

Only later did I find out the whole story.

It is common knowledge in India that in order to survive most people in local communities set up relatonships with the lower ranking police officer – this is called a HAFDA which is a regular protection fee to make sure they don’t get in trouble. This was the first time in almost a decade that no bear was seized by Kartick’s team. There’s a distinct possibility that some undercurrents were at work here that allowed the community to be forewarned but we can’t be sure. Things certainly don’t stack up.

Saving animals in India is not just physical and emotional. It is deeply political and divisive.

The community we visited has a reputation for disorder and violence. Someone had found out that Kartick was involved and apparently people had threatened to kill him. He wasn’t present but things were escalating fast. I saw none of this in my ignorant haze but the police quickly recognized a tipping point on the near-horizon. We had to leave

So we just left the bear there?

Kartick later assured me that the bear would be saved soon and that the monkeys would as well. That just wasn’t our moment.

To be honest, I am surprised sometimes that Kartick is still with us. I’ll let you know of any updates. But for now I am glad to be back and safe.

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Phew, I made it.

But the outcome was not as I had expected. We raided a community that got very heated and the plan had to change quickly…

…and what of the bear?

At 4:30am I woke up to a thunderstorm.

This is not the ideal start to one’s first day of bear-rescuing. It would only have been made worse if the grim-reaper had tickled his fingers on my window. The fierce rain came through the hot darkness. I re-applied my mascara, sorry, I mean bear-rescue disguise, and got ready to meet my pick-up man at 5am.

An unmarked vehicle arrived some 45 minutes late with a driver who spoke little English. I had been told by Kartick not to engage in conversation. The driver obliged by not speaking a word back and we set off in silence into the sunrise.

During the journey we picked up three more people, one of whom seemed aggressive and was unwilling to sit in the back. I assumed he was the informer to the Muslim community. He was agitated and often broke out into protest with my driver  about something I could not understand. I stared out of the window the whole way without saying a word

 

 

Meeting the undercover cops

We arrived at the pre-arranged location to meet the plain-clothed cops. Their portly bellies and moustache-stroking nonchalance didn’t fill me with confidence -but what did I know?

By now Kartick was regularly texting me. He seemed nervous that I was alright. Which made me nervous.

Have they got weapons? R there women with them?

I presumed women would be used to soften any possible violent tendencies

Neither -  I wrote back

How many cops?

Six

Is that all? - he wrote.

Should I go if they have no weapons?

They probably have concealed weapons 

I could see nothing of the sort in their tight fitting trousers and t-shirts stretched over their full frames.

Then, just when I was considering bailing on the whole thing, we drove the car to another station and were joined by more police. First five more, then ten, then twenty. All of them were dressed in uniform and most were carrying rifles, pistols, one with an AK-47.

Jesus. I wasn’t sure if I should feel relieved or terrified. Why so many cops for a bear cub? And why did I need to wear mascara and a bad disguise? With this much police protection I could have been Salman Rushdie reading the Satanic verses aloud and they wouldn’t have been able to touch me.

But these police were not for me. Someone thought this raid demanded it.

Martin, do not lose your man - another text.

Kartick had made very clear that under no circumstances should I stray from the side of my driver – who was apparently an expert in these raids . I promised I would stick by him closely.

We set off for the small village compound where we new the bear cub was being kept. There was no way in hell this number of police would not arouse suspicion – or prepare – the people who we were coming for.

Something felt very wrong.

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