Memoirs of a Bolt Guy: Police Harassment is back o

Thursdays, like Tuesdays, are usually dull for me, and work doesn’t really peak on these days. Although I managed to turn the corner for Tuesdays like I stated in a previous episode, I’m yet to hack the formula for Thursdays.

So, after toiling during the day for peanuts, I decided not to force it any more, but to go home, earlier than I usually do to rest and recharge for the evening onslaught. I got home by noon or thereabout, ate, bathed and slept. I then woke up at 4:30 pm and went straight to play football.

At a little bit past seven in the evening, I was fired up to make up for lost time. I immediately went online and got an order close by. So I picked her up at the designated point and we headed for Rumuolumeni via Rumuigbo.

As we approached the junction, we were flagged down by the mean-looking policemen on stop-and-search duties at the Rumuigbo Junction. They had been there for about a month or so, “on special duty” from what I could gather.

The officer asked for my Drivers’ license, and then went straight to verify it, which proved legit. Next was my car plate number…Oga said there was an issue. That the number is “valid but not approved”…in his own words. The grammar weak me sef. How can it be valid yet not approved? Which kind of assault on the late Queen’s language be this again this night na?

I sought clarification from him and he explained that it means the number was forged. I had to disengage the client and apologize for the inconvenience. I took my phone to call the person who registered the car for me, but I couldn’t reach him.

The officer asked that I surrender my car keys and come to the force headquarters at Moscow Road to take it back after doing the necessary things. I told him to chill a bit while I get to the root of it. That was when my guy called back and explained that the plate number is valid and legal and it was duly registered with the Lagos State Government, as seen on AutoReg (a car verification website). The officer would have none of it and started threatening fire and brimstone. He was getting hostile so I let him have the key.

He who laughs last, they say, laughs best.

I put a call to a senior police officer at the force headquarters and then explained the situation to him. He asked that I hand the phone to his junior colleague. It was on loudspeaker, so I could make out what they were saying. My senior man was furious, letting him know that they were deviating from the primary reason that they were stationed there. He said he’s been getting too many reports about their unprofessional conduct and it was no longer funny. He directed him to release the vehicle to me. But the junior officer lied that he had already handed the keys to his commander across and immediately handed me back the phone.

My man was boiling at this point. He called me back and said, I should allow them to bring the car to Moscow Road so he could handle them himself, but just as I was about to leave, they signalled to me from across the road to come over that commander wanted to know what’s happening….heheheeheh!

My senior man called again and this time, I handed the phone to the commander, who was much nicer than his boy, maybe, after seeing the name displayed on the screen. In less than a minute, they were done talking.

The commander called me closer to explain that he didn’t know what was happening until now. He duly apologized and directed the junior officer to return the keys to me. He then appealed to me that I could contribute to their cause by providing them anything that would make their stay at the junction a bit better, but if I don’t have, I am still free to go…make e no be like sey him dey force me O. I smiled, went into the filling station to make a withdrawal of One Thousand Naira (N1,000) and handed it to the junior officer for ‘mosquito coil’.

I was about to cross the road when I heard two gunshots in the air.

People started running helter-skelter to take cover. Old warlord like me, proper Port Harcourt boy, I didn’t move na. I just shifted to stay behind their Hilux vehicle to see Wetin dey sup. Na peep I dey peep…no be sey I dey hide.

I saw them drag a young man to where their other vehicle car was, stripped him and cuffed his hands behind his back, and the drilling started. The commander now came to where we were, and I reappeared from my hideout. He said the boy was found with bullets and drugs in his side bag after a routine stop and search. I thanked him for keeping the neighborhood safe and resolving my matter amicably.

I took my car and closed work for the day. The omen was not good. No need to push my luck any further.

Meanwhile, this wasn’t my first encounter with this particular unit. About a month back, I got a call from a close friend at almost midnight that he’s been detained there because one of the officers allegedly found Tramadol in his bag.

Ordinarily, I wouldn’t bother about such things, but Jack would never touch drugs. I know him to that extent. I was in Choba, spending the weekend at China Acheru’s house. So I begged him to permit me to leave briefly because by then, his gate would have been locked since we had already shut down.

I drove down there and introduced myself to them. I heard from both parties and I did not believe the story told by the officer. I requested to see the said drugs found on him, but they refused. I told them plainly that this person would never go within ten feet of such substances. They tried too hard to spin it but I didn’t budge.

They threatened to shoot me because I was invading their space but I stood my ground, having already identified myself as a Pressman. I told them they won’t have any valid reason to give if they did shoot me because no one on earth can identify me as a criminal, never happened and never will!

Let me not go into the details, but eventually, they let him leave that night, after telling me to come to Zone 16 or so in Yenagoa to bail him.

Hilarious and aggressive lots… those ones.

It will be nice to read your comments on these