LAW ABIDING CITIZEN

It's 06:18pm on the dashboard clock. The thought of evading traffic or even being on its front line had already become pipe dream. I stepped on the brake pedal and engaged the un-plated Camry's 4speed automatic transmission.

The front wheels struggled to match the rev sending it into a spin in a bid to gain traction as I floored the gas pedal into a swift take-off. Let's go join the queue and be done with this trip ASAP, I said to myself. Few minutes later, while maneuvering the gridlock as I approached Capital gas station towards the outskirts of Lagos state; two haggard-looking, almost-toothless policemen jumped into my path, ordering me to park as they pointed their erect fingers to my right flank. After a very long break of trust in the men of the police force, I decided to give them benefit-of-the-doubt to do their job as they should. But I was wrong. The ageing officer walked up to me as I pulled over. I presented my original driver's license issued by the FRSC and the car's custom duty papers without stepping out of the vehicle. He barely scrutinized them when he looked at me and asked; Kilo mu wa fun mi? (what did you bring for me). I simply and politely replied..... nothing!. He immediately walked away with my papers in anger, hoping to frustrate some Naira out of me through the usual delay scheme, but I sat still and didn't blink; keeping tab on him via the rear view mirror to make sure he wasn't messing with my papers. Just then, John Legend's 'Tonight' began playing over the stereo. The track would have been perfect if 'police' replaced 'baby' in the lyrics. About thirty adamant minutes later, seeing I wouldn't bulge, I watched him send a young boy by the road side to bring me my documents. I verified them, looked at the clock; it's 07:25 and already dark. Slamming on the accelerator, I took off once again.

   Thirty five minutes into the drive, another check point. I pulled over and the same protocol ensued. The only difference this time, he was a younger police officer. He scrutinized my papers and searched my trunk before opening the palm of his empty left hand in request for his 'salary'. As the clock ticked away my trial time, I sat back and watched this young rascal in NPF uniform use a rod to shatter side mirrors of vehicles whose drivers refused to be extorted (private, trucks and commercial vehicles inclusive) while another occasionally corked his gun to induce fright. I know they say two wrongs don't make a right but in this moment, these sick fellows deserve proper beating! The kind that send their breed on trips to emergency rooms and years of intensive care in the ICU. Looking around, I noticed they all had rods to complement their AK 47 rifles while the lead vandal wore a black jacket over his uniform; to hide his name tag I suppose. I glanced at the clock again and it's 08:20pm, indicating that I'd already been delayed/punished for thirty minutes without cause. And just like a switch swung into its ON position, anger rose within me. I walked up to the idiot and demanded my vehicle papers, pinpointing the fact that he had no genuine reason whatsoever to keep me waiting. He barely looked at me and continued his hunt for side mirrors or Naira notes. I didn't stop. I kept reiterating his wrongdoing into both his conscious and subconscious as I tagged along wherever he put his foot. This got him irritated but he held on to the breasts of stubbornness like an hungry baby bent on sucking its mama dry. Unfortunately for him, this mosquito's also desperate for its blood meal (my papers). Minutes later, as the heat of the argument rose, his colleague convinced him to let me go. Of course he yielded, but not until he had made one final attempt at making money this year. I looked at him and spoke very selective words in a tongue even a deaf Nigerian will understand; even if I dey drunk, shingbain no go drop from my pocket!. In english; not even in my drunken state will I give you a dime at this point! Then I drove off. That was when I noticed the long queue of other vehicles waiting to be freed by these demons. Then we wonder why hit and run reprisal attacks on officers escalate. It's obviously not far fetched. Their anger wouldn't let them feel for you strangers.  

   I believe there are few good cops but now it appears ratio ten to non-existent. Most have gone from beggars in uniforms to lords of the highway who demand not only bribes but also toll fees they call O.D (office and duty). This they ask with audacity. Bribe we know is given by offenders to pervert justice, but what the hell is O.D for? Probably a fee law-abiding citizens must pay for using the highway in their presence I guess.

   I remember being at a checkpoint not too long ago, four vehicles were affront me and a tinted Nissan Frontier police van carrying a senior officer was wailing from a distance behind. Immediately, the officer who had been collecting squeezed notes quickly dispersed the waiting vehicles as the code word 'watch out' was shouted to him by his colleagues from behind. The message was clear. They must not be caught in the act. It could mean their job. 

   I've been taken to the station for vehicle verification purposes a couple of times. And each time, the stories change after arrival. Male and female officers in the bid to probably incriminate you or force to you to cower and vomit money, begin disseminating lies like they are served compulsory perverse pills every morning. If you don't tread carefully and tactfully, you could get jailed or bailed for either a non-existent crime or a crime you know nothing about. Little wonder people dread the sight of these yellow buildings that ought to be community friendly. The system is messed up to the point you can't even trust cops to search your car without supervision, lest they drop dirt in it to get you pleading guilty in a law court or have your family and friends bleed your bail through their nostrils.

  Sometimes ago, last year December precisely, one of the police officers attached to MM international airport posed to take a leak beside our parked vehicle, only for us to discover minutes later he actually positioned himself to take a purse one of us accidentally dropped on the ground. Assured by our sixth sense, we traced him to the departure terminal and confronted him. His colleagues saw our determination to search him on the spot and quickly intervened. We were all taken to a corner where they appealed to him to come clean. Long story short, he produced the #12000 he had swooped out of the purse. Isn't it ironic that these are the same people who take pride in torturing folks who steal petty things like maggi, baby formula, etc to feed their hungry family? But the bigger thieves in government positions get richer and even bail themselves easily when caught. If you follow any of the country's popular newspapers well enough, such stories shouldn't be news to you. 

   We've watched NPF roll out uniform upon uniform in the bid to improve its outlook while its men get more addicted to the dark side. Just as the Holy book explains; "And no one puts new wine into old wineskins; or else the new wine bursts the wineskins, the wine is spilled, and the wineskins are ruined. But new wine must be put into new wineskins.”

   I believe our officers can be professional about their job. I believe members of the public are willing to give them the appreciation and support they desire should they begin to inculcate the right actions worthy of praise. I believe officers can be respected if they go about their duties respectfully. For respect, they say is reciprocal. I believe we can ply the highways and greet policemen with courtesy. I believe they can foster orderliness by also being exemplary law abiding citizens themselves. I believe there can be a better Nigeria Police Force.

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