Up in the remote north of the country, near the border of the Central African Republic and Cameroon. A place where time had largely forgot. There is a passing trade in bushmeat and little else. Occasionally, very occasionally something unexpected happens, on this particular day it was a film crew, dishevelled from too many days travel and covered in dust, passing through in a battered old pickup. Those who weren’t in the forest or working on their small plots of farm land came and looked at us as if we were from another world.