The Police Station
‘Good morning,’ I said to the officer
behind the counter, ‘My name is Kalaki. I need a police report on the loss of my
driving licence.’
‘Certainly sir,’ she replied. ‘You
just have to get a report form and fill in the details. That’ll be fifty pin
for a report form.’
‘Oh really?’ I said. ‘I thought it was
done free of charge.’
‘Maybe you thought a long of things,
sir. If you read the newspapers you’d know that all subsidies have been
removed. So instead of thoughting a lot of things and upsetting yourself, just
give me the fifty pin, get your report and go on your way.’
As it happened, I had just had an
unexpectedly pleasing encounter with the very ATM that had in the past been continuously
unsympathetic to my financial problems, and I was therefore on a high of
financial exuberance. So I carelessly took a bundle of fifties out of my
pocket, peeled one off, and said, ‘OK, darling, give me a report form.’
She fixed a swiveling beady eye on my
little hoard, suddenly whipped away the fifty pin like a chameleon catching a
fly, and disappeared down the corridor. She came back only two minutes later
with a blank piece of paper. ‘Here,’ she said, ‘just write down all the details.’
‘Excuse me,’ I said, ‘this doesn’t
seem to be a report form.’
‘Report forms are out of stock,’ she
said. ‘So just write me a report of what you lost and when.’
As she spoke a grimy half naked figure
appeared at the metal grill door behind the counter. ‘Please madam, I need to
go to the toilet.’
‘Toilet!’ she screeched in mirth. ‘That’s a
good one! Toilet!’ Then, turning to me, she sneered ‘Since the Police Service
has been privatized, we get some very demanding customers.’
Then turning
back to the wretch in the filthy metal cage she said ‘My dear sir, I saw from
the moment you arrived that you were a gentleman, accustomed to the very best.
That’s why I took the trouble to give you the very best self-contained accommodation.
You’ll find the bucket in the corner.’
‘Excuse me interrupting,’ I said, ‘but
can I have a receipt for my fifty pin?’
‘Certainly,sir,’ she replied politely.
‘Receipts cost fifty pin.’
Just then there was a kafuffle outside
and then two youths were hurled into the station by a rowdy group of men. ‘We
found them walking down the road holding hands!’ declared the leader of the
gang of ruffians.
‘A blatant homosexual act in broad
daylight, contrary to the Penal Code Section 1175, as amended in 1734!’ the policewoman
squealed in delight, as she closed the steel door behind the pair of illegal hand
holders.
I was just about to again raise the matter
of my police report when a man and his wife came in holding a young boy by the
scruff of his neck. ‘This thief stole our son’s bicycle!’ shouted the woman,’ as
if in a paroxysm of hate against all humanity.
‘That’ll be fifty pin to open a docket
and fifty pin to write a statement,’ declared the policewoman, as the grill
door clanged behind another captive. ‘Go to Room 6 down the corridor and speak
to CID.’
It was some time before she managed to
return to me and my little problem. ‘Excuse me,’ I said, ‘I’ve written down the
details here. What do I do now?’
‘You pay me a fee of fifty pin to sign
and stamp it. Then we make a photocopy for our records and put it on file. That’ll
be another fifty pin.’
Just then there was a sound of running
feet, and a man came panting up to the counter. ‘There’s a whole gang of thugs
coming down our street with pick-axe handles and pangas, and they’re
heading for the Evangelical Church!’
‘Why are you telling me all this?’
shouted the policewoman. ‘We’re non-political and non-partisan. We don’t take
sides in these things! We don’t even have bullet proof vests, so how can we get
involved in politics? I suggest you make a complaint to your member of
parliament.’
As he ran out cursing, I turned to the
policewoman. ‘Look,’ I said, ‘Even if you can’t do anything yourself, can’t you
phone HQ and warn them about an attack on a church?’
She turned to me with a sneer. ‘And
why don’t you mind your own business, just as I mind my own business? My job here
is just to lock up people when there is a complaint against them, and release them
when their relatives arrive.’
‘It’s a nice little business,’ I
admitted.
‘This is just a peaceful community
police post,’ she said. ‘My husband and I bought it during the time of privatization.
Like all small business people, we just get on with our daily work, and keep
out of politics.’
‘What about HQ?’
‘Now that’s big business. We keep
clear of them. They have a contract with the ruling party.’
Just then a distraught woman came in
sobbing. ‘You’ve locked up my Billy for stealing his own bicycle.’
‘For only fifty pin,’ said the
policewoman in a kindly voice, ‘I can release your son on police bond.’
The policewoman turned to me. ‘You see
how we keep both sides happy. The complainants pay to put them in, and then the
relatives pay to get them out.’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘it’s a nice little
community service. I’m sure we’re all grateful. Now if you’ll just sign and
stamp my police report, I think I’ll be off.’
‘There’s just one other thing,’ she
said.
‘Oh?’ I said. ‘What’s that?’
‘I notice from your report that you
lost your license last September. So there’s a fine of five hundred pin for
driving without a license.’
Video courtesy of Flip artists: www.flipproject.wordpress.com
