“If we don’t do this, we’ll have nothing”: Everyday life for Caledonians who stay up late to protect their businesses

They are not security guards, but maintenance workers, masons and even store managers. What do they have in common? The desire to protect businesses, pharmacies and even medical centers at all costs. They know that the police cannot intervene at any time and in any place, so they set up temporary surveillance posts at the gates of businesses to ensure their daily lives.

Orlando has been working at the Korail supermarket chain for nearly two years. He would never have believed that one day there would be such a joke: ‘It’s too much work and we end up sleeping there’ It became his daily life.

On the third day of the riots, he and his colleagues took the initiative to protect the Normandy store, which opened a month before the riots began. What Orlando wanted to save was not only a store, but also a job. “It was a Wednesday. We came during the day and stayed in the parking lot with a few colleagues to show our presence because the French Bridge railway had been robbed and looted the day before” Remember the manager of the frozen foods department.

The protection initiative was a spontaneous decision. Through discussion groups on social networks, these men and women carefully organized themselves and even set up a schedule to ensure that they were monitored at all times of the day and night.

At night, there were about fifteen of us. Half of us slept from 10pm to 3am, and the other team shot until dawn. We were outside in the garden shed of the shop next door, and these were our dormitories.

Orlando, Frozen Foods Manager, Korail Normandie

‘Like anyone, we panicked’

Alone outside the cold store, Orlando recalls these funny, offbeat, and totally terrifying moments. “In the beginning there was no curfew. Vehicles with masked men drove by and slowed us down. They threatened us, saying to be ready because they were going to burn everything.” Remember the father of this family.

Orlando reluctantly left his wife and three children at home and lived like this for more than a month. Although sadness and anger were intertwined, he did not give up. “I want to respond to them, but you have to take it upon yourself to avoid retaliation. We are afraid that if we respond, they will take action at night” He admitted it.

Further south in the territory, MondorThe town has borne the brunt of the abuse and clashes since mid-May. In La Coulée, the shopping centre, which also houses a post office and healthcare professionals, has been under 24/7 protection since May 13. “No one asked us to keep it, but living in the city, we’ve become accustomed to it.” A resident of the Esplanade confided. Several nights a week, he would be on duty in the central parking lot accompanied by dozens of people. “All races unite” He pointed out that as time went by, round after round, these guards watched the surroundings with only flashlights, filled with fear, just like this night of June 14, rioters fired live ammunitioncausing three injuries.

When you hear the bullets bouncing off the wreckage of the car, you know they weren’t shot into the air. Like anyone, we panicked. It scared us, but we couldn’t get out of there.

Continue to stockpile medicines

This grim reality is all too clear to residents of downtown Kutio, near Dick Ukiwi High School. In this neighborhood, a small group of residents has taken turns every night for more than two months to guard the last remaining building in the area: the Cardusi Medical Center, where pharmacists, dentists, biologists and even veterinarians work.

So, the day after the first destruction of the community, and the abuses that have continued since, men and women from surrounding social housing have been guarding the center. ‘For the benefit of all of us’ A resident who wished to remain anonymous revealed. “We started monitoring when a car ramming vehicle on the Carrefour Kenu-In side tried to break through the barrier of the pharmacy.” I still remember the guy who spent that first night in front of the pharmacy.

After the 8 p.m. curfew, only men were on duty in front of the center. Under a small tent, they kept watch wearing large sweaters. Neighbors brought them food and warmth because they had to make it through the night. One team stayed up until midnight, and another until 6 a.m. But this citizen oversight was sometimes undermined. On July 8 last year, SMTU Venue, The fire, located just metres away, was extinguished minutes before the curfew was lifted, with the night watchman just going back to bed and others preparing to start their day’s work.

After more than nine weeks of surveillance, and no longer counting their sleepless nights, none of these residents could imagine what would happen next. A story that seems to have no end, but for many, “If we don’t do this, we’ll have nothing.”