How to kill a burglar

Nairobi

One evening in the Kenyan capital late last year, my friend Sean Culligan endured an experience that, in several instructive ways, can be compared and contrasted with that of the Norfolk farmer Tony Martin. Sean is a mild-mannered man who, after retiring from the British military, settled in East Africa. He works for a medical charity that is held in high esteem. For a pastime he likes target shooting. He has a licensed pistol. ‘My military training tells me that if you have a gun, you should carry it,’ Sean tells me. ‘If you carry it, you should be prepared to use it.’

The incident occurred on a Friday evening in Nairobi’s suburbs, where Sean had arranged to pick up a doctor and colleague named Suzanne from her house. They were going on to a meeting downtown. When he arrived, Suzanne’s three-year-old daughter had just been put to bed. She asked him to wait a few minutes in the living-room while she got ready to go out.

In her bedroom, Suzanne heard her dogs begin to bark outside. Because of the high crime level in Kenyan cities, most middle-class households employ a night-watchman. Suzanne couldn’t understand why her guard wasn’t calming the dogs down. She looked through the curtains but saw nothing. It was after seven, and since Nairobi is on the Equator, it was already dark. She walked out into the driveway to find out what was going on. Four men materialised out of the gloom. At least one of them was armed with a pistol, which he put against her head. He ordered her to keep quiet and re-enter the house.