MY LAGOS DIARY: EPISODE 3

The  Police is Your Frenemy
By Koko Wanjiru Davids

I had two interesting encounters with the police on the streets of Lagos in less than a month. Two unforgettable moments that have been etched into "My Lagos Diary."

The first encounter happened in September. I wasn’t particularly pumped about returning to work after the last 2-day Sallah holiday. Not because I don’t enjoy my job, but because I don’t fancy my daily commute due to the hellish traffic! But I had to activate work-mode…whether I liked it or yes!

So that Wednesday morning, I was ready bright and earlier than usual. The driver came and we set out a few minutes before 6am. We pulled out of the estate, and about a minute and a half after we made a U-turn at the VGC Roundabout, a “danfo” bus characteristically strayed recklessly into our lane. My driver was quick to react…he slowed down and swerved a bit to the left so as to avoid colliding with the bus. Next thing I hear is tyres screeching, a loud “crash” and the sound of glass shattering to the ground. My head jerked forward then backward due to the force from the hit. A pick-up truck had just collided into us from the back! A police Rapid Response Squad (RRS) truck driving on the other lane stopped at the scene of the incident. Fortunately for me, the police officers had witnessed everything as it happened.

The driver and I quickly came out of the car to assess the damage. It was quite bad. The back lights on the passenger side of the vehicle were totally shattered…as well as part of the back bumper.

One of the officers in the RRS truck signaled for us to drive off the road so as not to hinder the flow of traffic. Before any of us could say anything, the driver of the car that hit us emerged, turns to my driver and starts yelling, “What is wrong with you? Why did you step on your brakes?”

I was livid! I couldn’t believe this man’s reaction. “Are you alright? What are brakes for? What kind of silly question is that” I blurted in anger. I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that he bashed a car from behind and was now blaming the driver of the car for the accident.

We got into a spat for probably about three minutes. The policemen just stood aside watching the drama, seeming clueless as to what action to take. I went over to state my case  and to get them to intervene in the matter.

“It is your fault. You are the cause of this…” one of them sternly said to the man some minutes after. “When you hit someone’s car from behind, you are held responsible.”

The man changed his tone. He became subdued. He informed us that he was going to pick up his “Oga” from a hotel and that he didn’t have any money to fix the car. It turns out that a police officer had been in the passenger seat of the truck with him, when it struck our car. He was an escort to the so-called “oga” who owned the vehicle.

Me: I didn’t care who was what or who owned the car. I just wanted them to pay for the damages. I called my mechanic right there, and he gave us the cost of the two lights that would need to be replaced. The bumper would also need to be refurbished and sprayed.

The escort officer interjected and informed me that the driver could lose his job if the “oga” finds out what happened.

"I'm not interested in all that," I quickly replied. I was tired of being a victim of reckless Lagos driving. These ones won’t go scot-free.

The officer eventually offered to pay for the damages out of his pocket, though not the entire cost at once…just the amount needed to purchase the lights. He however assured me that he would send more money later.

“You know madam nobody can tell when we will meet again, that’s why I’m doing this,” he said to me.

After contemplating for a few minutes, I accepted his offer and we exchanged phone numbers. I was more than relieved to leave there as the rains had started coming down heavily.

“Maybe the police is my friend after all,” I thought to myself as we drove away.

Unfortunately, the money I got from Mr. Police Escort wasn’t enough (the lights actually cost N5, 000.00 more than projected). I called to update him on the new development and he promised to “arrange something” before the end of that day. He never did. It’s been over a month since this incident occurred and the situation report is still same. I got tired of calling him because to be honest, I know he won’t do more than he already did.

The second incident involving the “men in black” happened last Monday. I got pulled over by a policeman around my office area. He asked to see the usual…car documents and driver’s license. The driver presented all and he harshly says “Clear well! Park well! Park there!”

I was befuddled…I didn’t know what offense was committed. I came out of the car to inquire what the matter was.

“This your car is nylon tinted,” says the officer. “See…” he motions to the tinted back windows and windscreen. “You need a permit to drive a car that’s tinted.”

“But I’ve been driving this car without any problem. I’ve never been stopped by the police. And just to inform you, this car was purchased with the windows like that. We didn’t have any issue getting it registered,” I explained but my words fell on deaf ears.

“Oh! I won’t stop you from driving the car o! You just have to pay a fine then apply for a permit. It will cost you N87, 000 to get a permit,” was the next statement I heard.

Yes! You heard right. This man asked me for N87, 000.00 without blinking or mincing words. I was dumfounded for a couple of minutes while the man walked away to harass another unsuspecting driver. My driver suggested I just appeal to the officer to let me go and that we would sort out the permit issue another day. I reluctantly did just that, and well…let’s say it sort of worked. His “fee” reduced from N87, 000.00 to N10, 000.00.

“I work around here and I just left the office to run a quick errand. It's almost close of work,...I have to go back to the office,” I explained further.

“Ehn...go to your office and bring the money now since its not far from here” he was resolute. I was enraged.

After about 5 minutes of back and forth between us, he agreed to let me go but on the condition that I “settle” him well. Ofcourse I knew what he was driving at, but I wasn’t planning on giving him any money. I stood my ground and he changed his stance “Oya go and park your vehicle in our station there. You can come tomorrow and start the process for the permit.”

Looks like I was in a catch-22 situation. I had neither money nor the willingness to give this cop anything. I also had a long drive back home and was already running behind time. My driver then pulls out N3,000 from his pocket and hands over to the crooked cop, “Oga abeg this is all the money we have here. Take it and let us go.”

He gleefully accepts, hands me back the car papers and says before walking off: “You are even lucky I collected this small amount from you. It's because you’re a woman and you’re with your driver. If it was your husband driving, I won’t take anything less than that N10, 000.00 from him.”

Before I could even recover from the nonsense this policeman had just spewed, another officer standing close by smirks at me then remarks snidely, “so madam you work around here and you can’t even come once in a while to greet us?”

I was too appalled that words eluded me. I simply got back into the car and we drove off. Believe me when I say that the police is your “frenemy”…your friend and your enemy. In fact...more of an enemy than a friend.

The only police who was my friend was my late grandfather who retired early from the Nigerian Police Force sometime in the late seventies (I think) because corruption had begun to creep in. If only he lived long enough to see just how rotten the system has become. He died in 1997. God rest his wonderful soul.

#MyLagosDiary