Beware: He Is Watching You!

It happened many years ago—I mean, in 2010—back when life was simple, evenings were predictable, and our biggest worry was choosing between dosa and pizza.

Like many, we had a weekly ritual: “Let’s go out.” No agenda, no plan—just drive, eat, come back, and feel accomplished. That day, we picked Zallaq—smooth drive, sea breeze, and of course, the compulsory roadside snacks.

An hour later, we returned home. The watchman greeted us as usual. Our villa was in a compound with the sea on three sides, a single-entry gate, three guards, and, seemingly, zero chance of anything going wrong.

While my wife went for a shower, I walked into the bedroom to change— and there it was. The cupboard looked different. I sensed immediately that something was terribly wrong.

Our locker was open, and to my surprise, it was empty.

The big question—how did this happen? Doors locked. Watchmen alert. Sea all around. No broken windows. No drama. Just a silent, surgical strike. The thief clearly knew our house better than we did.

My wife was devastated. We never recovered the gold or money we lost. But what we did gain was something priceless: fear. It moved in with us rent-free.

So we did what any logical person would do—we moved. New compound. More security. Cameras everywhere. Guards who looked like they took their job seriously. We even installed our own CCTV system inside the villa.

But one fine afternoon, while we were at work, someone walked in—broad daylight, no appointment—and walked out with our expensive watches.

My wife didn’t even argue. She just gave me that look—the “we are moving again” look.

So we moved again.

New place. Gated. Two security guards. Solid system.

Day one: perfect.

Day two: theft in the neighbour’s house.

I told my wife, “Welcome to the club.”

Thankfully, this time we had some positive news. The police caught the thief and brought him to the compound. He looked calm, almost impressed. While leaving, he asked the watchman:

“I entered right in front of you. What exactly is your job?”

Nobody could answer. The watchman didn’t have to—he was fired the next day.

After all this, my wife raised her eyebrow. I offered my final piece of wisdom:

“Let’s just not keep anything expensive at home.”

To some extent, the problem has been resolved. We even joked about not locking the main door—as if to send a message: “Dear Jean Valjean, welcome to our home. Please enjoy your short stay while we are away.”

But the mystery remained. How did the thief know exactly where to look? Who told them? The maid? The cleaner? A delivery person? Or was it just bad luck?

I finally found a possible answer.

While browsing the NewsofBahrain page yesterday, I noticed a cybersecurity alert. It warned about unsecured CCTV cameras. These so-called vigilant watchdogs, it said, can easily turn into silent informants if not properly protected.

Hackers can get in, watch your home, study your routines, and plan their moves with chilling precision.

And suddenly, everything starts to make sense. What if our biggest investment in security has quietly become our biggest vulnerability? The CCTV camera—installed to protect us—may, in some cases, be exposing us instead.

I think I’ve found part of the answer.

So here’s what we can do: secure your internet network and cameras with strong, unique passwords. Keep your systems updated. Avoid connecting your DVR to the internet unless necessary. Do not allow direct remote access to your cameras, and always enable multi-factor authentication wherever possible.

I’ve taken these steps myself.

But the question still lingers: what about the hacker? Is he getting smarter, too?

Is the game still on?

Keeping Fingers crossed

( The author is the Chairman & Managing Director of The Daily Tribune)