One
day, I ran into some police officer who mounted what I considered an illegal
roadblock somewhere at Ajangbadi, Afromedia. In this part of the world, you
expect such move to fish out criminals and send them to jail. Clean the streets
of bad eggs and restore law and order. It is hard to say if the police are
winning the battle or this type of policing is effective considering the high
level of insecurity in Nigeria.
One
thing is clear. Standing on the road with an AK 47 pointed at oncoming
motorists with the hope that they will be intimidated and line the pocket of
the officer, is far more lucrative to some average Nigerian police than fight
crime. It is safe to say that fighting crime is expensive and mounting roadblock
is lucrative. Mounting roadblocks with the sole aim of extorting money is evil.
You cannot effectively fight crime and deliberately collect bribe at the same
time. You must draw the line because one bad cop is worse than an entire
criminal gang. Combating crime is an art. It is right of the people to be
protected by the police.
It
is hard to win an argument that the presence of police officers on the road
have helped to reduce crime. If the idea have not send real criminals to jail,
then we are yet to have a police force that can be trusted with the protection
of live and property. This is sad. No nation can progress when those who are
saddled with responsibility to combat crime are compromised
However,
while the police officers took their place by the road, some wielding AK 47 and
others grabbed their club with an iron grip, I decided to stop at one of the
shops owned by a friend. I was on a deadline. My editor have asked me to submit
a story and I was desperately in need of an idea. So I thought hanging around the
friend and watch the officers could open the floodgate and lead me to the
Promised Land. Just as I had anticipated, I had my hands full. The police did
not disappoint. I got more than what I had bargained.
I
faced the road and watched how the police men extorted money from motorists. Nearly
every car that came by was forced to part with some cash. It was an
embarrassment until a young man emerged on an unregistered motorcycle. One of
the officers crossed his path and asked him to stop. Rather than comply, the
young man flared up. “You can’t stop me. I am not an okada man!” he yelled at
the officer. He tried to maneuver his way out but was blocked completely by the
officer as others watched from their abode on the side of the road. It was a dreadful
scene to watch and all eyes were fixed on them. I was still fuming from what I
have seen so far. I wasn’t impressed.
“I
say stop!” the officer sounded with one hand on his AK 47. The motorcycle
rolled to a corner where the officer had expected. But the poor soul on the
bike was furious. This resulted in a shout match between the police officer and
the man. Before it could degenerate into a melee, three or more police officers
stormed out of their corners and set them apart.
I
crossed my hands over my body with keen interest to see what would happen. I
wanted to see how the officers would handle the matter. The men were still
breathing down on each other’s neck, when one of the police officers who had
come to sue for peace took the young man aside. “Why are you arguing with my
colleague? He asked you to stop. You should have obeyed him. He was simple and
clear. STOP! YOU STOP! IT DOESN’T REQUIRE YOU TO START QUARELLING WITH AN
OFFICER.”
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| Nigerian Police: In the line of duty |
“I
have money on me and I am late for where I am going,” the man told the officer.
“That
is not enough to act the way you did. We are police men. You should not
entertain any fear. We are from Okokomaiko police station. Aside the money with
you, what else do you have?” The officer smiled and added, “Na me and you dey
here. Talk. You are covered.”
The
poor soul scanned the police officer carefully, perhaps pondering if his next
line of action would be a good move or not. It was clear that the young man had
encountered many police officers in the past and things have not been
straightforward. He knew some of them could fall flat at the very sight of
money. But he forgot the wise saying that “choose
your next words carefully, they may be your last as king”. The police
officer may have come from another world where fighting crime is more important
to him than personal gratification. You can hardly know who is righteous until
we are put to the test. In the underworld, there are hardly common interests.
Personal interest is king. It reigns supreme. The Nigerian Police Force is a
breeding ground for men who are interested in their personal interest than the
common goal. This idea can only lead to retrogression and failure on many
fronts. My candid advice is that we restructure the police and flush out the
bad eggs immediately. No nation can sustain mediocrity. It’s the highway to
hell.
The
young man got his calculations wrong. In the criminal enterprise, the right
thing to do is to offer bribe as quickly as possible and move on. Once the dust
settles down, your money may look like a poisoned chalice. No matter how much,
even the ugliest of cop will gladly turn it down in order to save his face.
Nothing last forever. The police who frequently takes bribe knows that one day,
he will account for his profligacies. Sometimes it only takes intuition to know
when not to accept the bribe. These things come in rough packages. Sometimes, a
veteran can easily tell when it is over.
His
outburst may have occurred to him as a wrong move so late. He had caused a
scene and had left several of the officers angry and unsettled. No sane person
likes to be embarrassed. The public was watching. I was there too and my
presence alone was enough to shift the balance. Now the young man may require
more than a few Naira notes to get himself out of the hole that he had dung. It
is difficult. But in most cases, money is a defense and can open many doors. He
reached out to his pocket and brought out some Naira notes. He flashed an
exaggerated smile at the officer and said, “I get something. But na small
thing.”
“For
where? Where the thing dey?”
“E
dey for my bike.”
“Wetin
you get?” the officer sensing that the man offering the bribe had something
more than the Naira notes in his possession, asked. They exchanged glances. “Na
wetin be the thing?”
“Na
small thing,” the young man said again. He flung a glance at his motorcycle and
slowly back to the officer standing before him like a pillar of inquiry. He
breathed deeply and revealed, “I carry tramadol and small cocaine…”
The
officer wore a frown. He swallowed hard and calmly threw out a question, “Where
the thing dey?”
“E
dey for my bike,” the man confessed. He stretched the money that he had brought
out of his pocket to the officer but he was ignored.
The
officer turned to his colleagues who were few meters away and sent a signaled
that they understood. Before the young man could blink, the other police
officers dashed to his side. They pounced on him and dragged him to the bike. “Oya,
show us where the thing dey!” one of them thundered, almost knocking the man
over.
Sensing
that he had been betrayed by the officer, the man brought out his phone and
placed a call on another officer called Gangan. He told Gangan that he was
being molested and harassed by some police officers at Afromedia.
Unfortunately,
the telephone conversation only made the matter worse. Gangan is a popular
police officer around Ojo and these officers knew him. “For making that call,
we will get to the end of this matter. You must get to Area K!”
They
grabbed him tightly and asked to bring out everything that was hidden in the
bike. The young man reluctantly raised the seat and several drugs concealed in
small containers were exposed.
The
officers checked the items. They were truly tramadol and cocaine as the man had
revealed.
“No
wonder you had the effrontery to raise your voice against me!” the officer he
had confronted earlier said. “You are in soup!” He brought out his phone and placed
a call.
Not
long after, a police van pulled up in front of them. The man and his bike were
arrested and thrown into the waiting van. One after another, the police
officers claimed into the van. Once they had settled down with their guns and
clubs by their sides, the van slowly moved away.
Meet the Author
Omoruyi
Uwuigiaren is a former cartoonist turned writer. When he was a kid, he loved
music and composed songs for his high school band. After school, he wanted to
pursue a career in music. Instead he embraced writing and studied Mass
Communications. His literary works and books have appeared in Urban News
Express Online, Moronic Ox Literary and Cultural Journal, Open Books and many
more. He’s the owner of Ruyi’s World of
Books and Stories.
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