• Writing
• Writing
• Nonfiction
• The spy who came in off the street

This is Hari, not the spy.

On 29 March 1998, the Hanoi office of The Vietnam News received an unexpected visit from a man who claimed he was robbed at gunpoint and his secret documents stolen. 

The man said he was Bangledeshi by birth, living now in Pakistan. He asked to speak privately with our editor-in-chief, Mr Khuyen. He had a copy of a robbery report filled out at a nearby police station.

Mr Khuyen, who always made time for foreign guests, saw the man without delay.

He said his name was Qazi Abdul Majeed and he wanted a notice published in the paper – because he desperately needed his secret documents returned to him. Also, his stolen bag had contained essential medicines. You see, Qazi explained, he had in years past been poisoned by Iraqi secret service agents, and the medicine was the antidote that was keeping him alive. And, of course, he needed money. 

For reasons that are not entirely clear, Mr Khuyen agreed to run the announcement. It read as follows:

Public Notice

I appeal to anyone having any knowledge of the whereabouts of medical documents vital to my life of which I was robbed in Hanoi on March 13 to please contact me. The medical documents include precise prescriptions and detailed treatment procedures for arsenic poisoning from which I have been suffering for the past eight years.

They were included in a black safety bag (diplomatic-style) which was locked by a magnetic key and which also included a Bangladesh passport number J860536; a large amount of cash in US$100 bills; bank documents; and microfilm notes on the Iraq/Kuwait war, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Libya and Cambodia.

The matter is being investigated by the police but I also seek public assistance. The robbery occurred in the evening near Hoan Kiem lake and involved three medium-sized men using a revolver held against my chest and covering their faces and hands with sheets of plastic.

I urgently seek your help as the matter is life threatening to me.

Please contact Mr Qazi c/- Orchard House, 28 Cau Go street, Hanoi.

Hari saw the notice before it went to print. He told Mr Khuyen he thought it was a joke, but it was printed anyway, in the next day’s edition.

I was not at the newspaper that day, as I had only just returned to Hanoi after an absence of nearly two years. Following my M.A studies in London, I had failed to secure full funding for my doctoral studies at ANU in Canberra. Left with few options, I had asked Mr Khuyen if I could return for a short spell at the paper.

For the most part, the staff had not changed. Several of the young women were now married, and two of them – Phuong and Quynh – were pregnant. Among the foreigners, Hari, Terry, Steve, Bob and John were still there. Paul’s last day of work was a few days after I arrived. Eric had left several months before, but was in Hanoi working at another paper. Jim Monan was in town. All in all, not much had changed. After a week to settle in, I started work the first week of April.

I did not meet the spy who came in off the street, but his arrival at the paper alongside my own return helped to reset my intellectual compass, from the sedate and politically correct world of academia in London to the routine zaniness of 1990s expat Hanoi. 

Qazi Abdul Majeed came back the next day and asked to speak again with Mr Khuyen. This time, Mr Khuyen passed him off to John Loizou – the oldest and most senior foreign editor at the paper. John was a gruff old Communist from Darwin, known to have a dark temper. But he also had a soft spot for people in trouble. He made the mistake of trying to help the man.

Hari was there, and he sensed it would be well worth his time to sit with the strange character who claimed to be a spy. 

Hari listened to the man monologue for about two hours, and much of what he heard was ‘out of this world.’

‘He was a thin, dark man,’ Hari recalls, ‘scholarly looking, in fact – but definitely a con artist.’

Hari says the man spoke very confidently, with a straight, serious face. He dropped some very big names, and said he had been the personal advisor of Pakistan’s President Zia. 

‘He was well-educated – he was not making bizarre statements – and he knew his history. His accent was heavy, but he had a good command of vocabulary.’

In other words, Hari thought he was an unconvincing con and a trickster, but not insane.

‘He knew people would not just ignore him, because of his age and his appearance.’

‘Qazi Abdul Majeed’ moved into John’s hotel, and wouldn’t go away. After a few weeks, he came to John and asked for money to pay his hotel bill. By now I had returned to work, and Hari and Steve had filled me in on the story. John came to the office and asked Khuyen for some money, so he could finally get rid of his Pakistani friend.

‘Mick, you don’t have any money do you?’ John implored as he walked past me. He often called me ‘Mick,’ a nickname I tolerated without enjoying. 

I had $10 or $20 in my wallet for personal emergencies, but this was not one of them.

‘No,’ I shrugged.

John took what money he had and brought the man to the train station. He waited until his friend  was on a train and pulling out of the station before returning to the office. A few weeks later, we received at the office the following fax, which Khuyen was kind enough to share with me: 

TO: 

THE VIETNAM NEWS.  HANOI.  VIETNAM   FAX NO 84. 4 824.xxxx

FROM:

         Qazi Abdul Majeed

         International Journalist.

         9/1 SUROW LANE.  CHAKROPONG ROAD.  BANGKOK.  102001  THAILAND.

 REF: – press-news                                                 dated:  12-5-98        BKK.

My dear friend,

Please have my love and regard. After severely suffering I have arrived in THAILAND and taking THAI-traditional medicine. No sooner had I reached to BANGKOK then I received phone-call from unknown person. The speaker hides his existence speaking in ENGLISH. He added the following:

“They live in VIETNAM. They already destroyed my medical report_others in Vietnam except M/F/NOTES pass port. All of my micro/film notes are well protected with MASTER. They may return those (105) “ m/f note” at any time according to GLOBAL SITUATION.”

Your VIETNAM NEWS flashed about my tragedy under” PUBLIC NOTICE” on plural dates (30/3/98 and also on other dates.) Unfortunately I could not take those at HANOI. Now I need those issue of VIENTMAN NEWS dated 30/3/98 + other dates for keeping as press-record originated at HANOI. As result I request you to send those issue of THE VIETNAM NEWS dated 29/3/98, 30/3/98 + other dates to my address at BANGKOK.

I am optimistic for the recovery of all the FILMS NOTES (105). Infact the files are confidential records on IRAQ/KUWAIT, PAKISTAN-AFGHANISTAN.SOVIET, BANGLADESH, COMBODIA and Libya for global peace and justice.

 They are what about to save the human being as victim from the “CONFIDENTIAL COLUMN” of “COOL SLAVERY.

The ARMS ROBBERY at HANOI on 13/3/98 codes an INTERNATIONAL ISSUE which can not be closed until the recovery of the FILM NOTES

I request you flash it as my press-statements.-

Just because of the tragedy I was going to be expired in VIETNAM before the proper time of DIVINE CALL. I was suffering at HANOI as if a wreck WAS FLOATING in a an endless ocean.

THE VIETNAM NEWS, YOUR HIGHNESS (MR.T + MR.J50/ and others were kind to take care of me in the days of my tragedy. AT DONGHA RAIL STATION I became quite helpless. But the VIETNAMIS were kind to help me as a victim/friend which signifies the character of a great nation.

I enjoyed the natural beauties of VIETNAMI GIRLS which is the blessing of GOD for the VIETNAM. It can not be bought at any cost. Without any cosmetic covers VIETNAMI GIRLS are more attractive like magnetic pearls which would soothe my gripe in the tragedy. By the grace of GOD if I get my M/F notes, I wish to merry a VIETNAMI-GIRL (SWEET 16) as my beloved queen for my generation.

On the way to DONGHA rail station I enjoyed the green golden fields dancing tossing their heads and breast.

Infact I went to VIETNAM on the way to COMBODIA just to discover the truth of VIETNAM. As a blessing of GOD the twin experiences of mine (BITTER+SWEETER) bear the real factors of VIETNAM. As a result I understand that VIETNAM is wealthy, healthy and beautiful country the world and most important country in ASIA.

NOTE PLEASE:   ACKNOWLEDGE MY LETTER

 Thanking you

 QAZI ABDUL MAJEED

 International Journalist and Former Diplomat

And there you have the story of the spy who came in off the street. It stands among the overflowing dumpster of evidence that Hanoi in the 1990s had more than its share of crazy aliens walking around. And as is often the case, Vietnamese women bear the brunt of attention slobbered on them by a foreign man. ‘It can’t be bought at any cost, like magnetic pearls soothing gripe in tragedy.’ Oy vey.