Ours is a peculiar plight, Sir. I, and other personal security officers like me, have to protect all types of persons. We have worked with some protected persons who were truly gracious. There were some who always enquired if we had eaten or whether we had rested. We liked them. Some others insulted us; made us carry their briefcases or look after their brats. Or go shopping with ‘Madam’. Some reviled and ridiculed us. And there were still others who didn’t even see us as human beings. We did not like them.
But it’s not our job to either like you or dislike you. Our job, Sir, is to protect you. Protect you to the best of our ability, for which we are tasked and trained. We have to be vigilant every hour, every minute and every second if we are to keep you out of harm’s way.
You, Sir, face threats on account of the position you occupy, as also some threats for the person that you are. We call these institutional threats and personal threats. I have been assigned to protect you because you face these threats. I have been trained to protect, and have acquired special skills. Skills that you do not need to know about. Suffice it to say that it is expected that I shall ward off any and every threat that you might face. And if required, take a bullet meant for you.
It is expected that I will be successful each and every day. The day I am not, I will either be dead or wish that I were.
I am with you for most of your waking hours, including when you cough or sneeze, belch or fart. Without wanting to, I do hear many of your conversations. I am witness to your peccadilloes, your quirks, your all too human failings. Even when I try not to hear what you might discuss in confidence with your colleagues and your cohorts, I am still privy to much wheeling and dealing that you have to do.
But I, and others like me, observe our unspoken and unwritten code of silence. We strive to be invisible. We try to remain noncontroversial. We observe but do not speak. And we do not reveal what comes to our knowledge while discharging our duties. Mind you, some of it is explosive stuff! Yet how many former security personnel have come out with juicy bestsellers about you and your ilk?
I don’t mind being ridiculed or made fun of. I couldn’t care less what you or other people say or think. Yet, when I am dragged by you into your petty political games, or I am indirectly blamed by you for breaching confidences or outright accused of unprofessional conduct, I am disappointed. Deeply disappointed. And I wonder whether this disappointment shall cause me to react just a split second slower at some critical moment. That split second which might make all the difference?
The disappointment also makes me wonder whether you, Sir, are worth taking a bullet for.
(Please do read the disclaimer page. It is stressed that the views expressed are the author’s, and not those of any other individual or organisation.)