It was still dawn when I set out. The ravaging sunshine that often afflicted those of us living on the cusp of the Sahara had not thrust its way through the clouds when I met up with an old friend and also my middle man. He was called Target.
Target had an inside knowledge of Zamfara state, where we were going to hunt for gold. His father - a prominent chief - knew a reliable gold dealer in the region, so he was taking me there.