He was tall and stylish. Eloquent and cultured. Clearly skilled at what he does. What a waste of human potential. But then this was Senegal. Dakar in 2005 to be specific. His name was Mohammed, and he was educated in France, or at least that is what he told us. It was morning time, and we had been out wandering for several minutes, looking for a place to eat breakfast, maybe something traditional.