In the Line of Duty by Omoruyi Uwuigiaren

 

In the Line of Duty by Omoruyi Uwuigiaren

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.”

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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The Bone in Our Neck by Omoruyi Uwuigiaren

 

The Bone in our neck by Omoruyi Uwuigiaren

                                               

One local farmer finds himself in a precarious situation. While inspecting his trap in the heart of his farm, he was not circumspect and tread smartly. He laid down his guard and strolled casually to the corner where he had his trap. It was his property, no doubt. He didn’t really need an invitation to walk around it or inspect his crops. He was within his rights to do as he deemed fit. But sometimes, not making the right move can be costly.

To be a property owner, means to be committed to a lot of things, which include your own safety. As soon as he moved nearer, the ground beneath his feet cracked. He lost his footing and was sucked into an underworld where he landed awkwardly on the floor and slipped into unconsciousness. You have to know the ground beneath your feet.

The animal, a large carnivorous creature, the farmer had wanted to catch and get rid of once and for all because it had nearly ruined his livelihood had outsmarted him by digging the hole near the trap and watched the man make the wrong move that left him battling for his life. What a moment!

While the farmer briefly closed his eyes upon the light of the world, the animal came out of a nearby bush and peered down the hole at the man that it considered wicked for not allowing its kind have their way on the farm. The animal’s face beamed with smile. He was happy that it had finally beaten the man who had always hunted its kind to his own game.

Then the animal thought it would be nice to drag the farmer further into oblivion by simply making a short work of him. It would be a massive victory for their kind. He had caused the animals so much pain. So getting the farmer off the menu simply means they will now have the farm to themselves. This is history unfolding. The doors are open and the victory is within the reach of the animals.

There was no need for him to be alive. Eating a creature of this size alone would not be nice. The wild animal decided to invite other animals to the party. The hunter suddenly became the hunted. The animal ran back to the bush to spread the news of its theatrical triumph.

Not long after, the farmer regained consciousness. He slowly rose to his feet. He dusted his clothes and glanced about. He could barely see beyond his nose because the day was far spent and it was almost dark down there. As he tried to get out of the hole, the wild animal arrived with its friends. Their meal was trying to get out of the hole. This is not a good idea. They need to narrow his path and send him to the silent world as soon as possible.

They bare their fangs at him and tried to attack. The farmer still had his cutlass by his side. He grabbed hold it with an iron grip for self-defense. Then fight broke out. The farm owner had been pushed back. He needs to fight and regain freedom. His life is in grave danger. If he doesn’t act quickly, he may never survive or regain his farm.

This is what Nigeria has slowly become. Kidnappers, bandits and terrorists are winning on all sides and those who should secure lives and properties appear to be on the back foot. Basically struggling to contain the cruel hands of hell, hopelessness have reached the high heavens. On no condition should a nation struggle in the defense of her citizens.  

Like the farm owner, if we take the wrong turn, our chance of survival will not only be slim, it will be completely wiped out. If Nigeria does not fix her security situation now, the proverbial giant of Africa may never reach her full potentials any time soon. It is difficult to argue that security situation will improve with the current structure. We are living dangerously. Misery is on the loose. Dogs are denied of bones. The chance to walk free is elusive. Freedom has become a luxury. To challenge the establishment, is to dare God and face the music. The renditions are often not pleasant to the ears. It’s like the long walk to freedom. This time with twists and turns that lead to nowhere. To make a difference, we must push and be committed to the project.

There is no future being a liability. Living dangerously is not a path to greatness. It is a sign of weakness. Not knowing how to fix your problems is a calamity. Nothing spectacular or germane will happen in a country constantly on the wrong side of things. It is frustration, humiliation to be lost. You don’t help a man by killing him.  

We have a scar that is easy to see. The country is in the middle of a crisis. That crisis is insecurity. It is a bone in our neck. Sadly, this bone is large enough to choke the nation to death. No nation will make significant progress when her citizens are not guaranteed of their safety.  

Achieving a feat or securing the country can never be done overnight. There is no short cuts to greatness. And beautiful things are never a product of sheer luck. There must be deliberate attempt to do what is right. Though, luck sometimes play a key role in propelling one to an enviable height. However, in governance, there is little luck can do in fixing problems. It is down to good governance, expertise, know-how and the readiness of those saddled with the responsibility of governing to act accordingly. Progress is a costly commodity.

As of today, Nigeria is yet to fully embrace or move in the right direction. It appears we still don’t understand the magnitude of the problem before us because we are not doing enough to punish criminals or make them pay for their crimes. We are trapped. There is no balance. Criminals only become daring when they sense they can easily get away with their crimes.   

Terrorists have recorded so much success in the last few months and this have only made them daring. We are one dreadful decision away from total collapse and anarchy. You track down a convict, what you make of him afterwards is of greater importance. If we cannot make him answer for his crimes, we have actually done nothing. Urgent steps must be taken to arrest the situation and stop the bandits in their tracks. The government should draw the line because we have an emergency. If we continue to play politics with insecurity, Nigerians will suffer and things will spiral out of control. We must stay away from any form of evil. Dragging our feet in the congregation of the ungodly only drive crime and put lives in danger. 

I don’t think it will be fair to say Nigerians are free in their own country. Every day is a struggle. Those who make it through the night are never sure of a better day. The constant reminder that nowhere is safe, is evil enough and can make people crack under every truckload of misfortune. Trapped and relatively outnumbered by criminals and their enablers, we are reinforcing failure and getting drowned by the day. Evil is awake. Her soldiers are on the dark streets. Multiplying by the second and making gains to the detriment of the world around them. First phase of the mayhem almost successfully executed. The eyes that see are quivering. Some are leech. Some are cruel hard monsters. They pretend not to know evil is upon us and crawling at every direction to ruin lives. A journey from abyss to the very top is not a pleasant one. It takes might and sacrifice to have a fulfilled life. But some think they can easily cut corners and reach the heights by wielding knives and daggers.  

As a knife pierce a chicken, we have been thrown under the bus to be crushed and battered. That is why there are hardly any day a Nigerian is not killed or kidnapped. Ordinarily no man wants to die because twists and turns make life sweet. Can Nigerians have their destinies in their hands? That is a matter of choice. There is no a guarantee that Nigeria will turn the corner anytime soon. The picture is not clear and the future is bleak.  

Salvation is not a worldly seed or costly apparel worn by the rich and affluent. It is divinely given to all men who merit it. So is insecurity. The cost of it is huge. Divinely given by Satan to his cohorts. Beaten by the beast. Never in the way of relevance. Spoilers who want to own things without following the due process. It is evil.

Things will only get worse if nothing is done about it. The road to the Promised Land is not always paved with treasures and good intentions. Sometimes, it has all sorts of problems, which requires the know-how of a leader to navigate the terrain. Not fixing the problem or lacking the know-how, will lead to a hall of pain.

 

It is true that a man is for himself and God is for us all, but nothing is guaranteed in a failed state. If we don’t fix insecurity, we should be prepared to face the outcome of its deadly brutality. It doesn’t make any sense if the state is at the mercy of bandits. It only shows that those saddled with the responsibility to keep the society safe are either not good enough or they have been compromised.  

The Bone in our neck 

Nothing discourages a people like when they know that their safety is not guaranteed. They exist not knowing what will happen to them the next minute. They live every day like is their last.

Safety is not a meal that the government should serve anytime they so wish. Malevolence should not take the place of safety, goodwill and good governance.

Our inability to decimate bandits, have only made them more daring. It will surely get worse if we tread the same old path. It is dreadful to count the dead when we should be focused on humanity and make the world a better place. To disappear is to die. To live is to conquer. God bless Nigeria.

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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