The tale of my unofficial visit to a Nigerian Police Station

It was a sunny afternoon in Lagos on the 13th September 2016 and I had set out for the Ogudu Ojota axis of Lagos from the Egbada axis. I used to stay in Shasha Akowonjo( wonder how many Lagosians know this place). I have usually been asked where this location is by 9 out of 10 people I mention it to; I just tell them close to Egbeda and another 5 would then know where I am talking about. Then if I added that it is in the Iyana Ipaja axis, maybe I can get another two to join the fray.

My boss was hosting some guests in his home for the Ileya (Id el Kabir) festival and I happen to be one of those who received a text for the same purpose. On many previous occasions, I had gotten this text but it most times gets delivered when I am out of Lagos (spending the holiday with my parents in Abeokuta). So, this was going to be a different day. I had many thoughts in mind I won't mind relishing when I get there. I had imagined how fat the meat would be in the plate; the calibre of construction industry players (the clients, consultants, and contractors alike) who would be at the event. At least, an atmosphere a little different from the work mood. Since it was supposed to be a “merry merry” gathering, and I being a fan of native attires, I had carefully chosen my blue colored but with some purple spot Buba and Sokoto. The cloth was chosen by one of our friends as an “aso ebi” for his marriage. I remember having visited Kano sometimes around that time and gotten the “aboki” cap just for the sake of complimenting the outfit. My tailor had also carefully styled the cloth with some nice looking embroidery that made one look close to an Hausa man and also looks nice on a tall man that "I is" (in Nkechi’s voice) - who knows who one might be meeting there, especially for bachelors like us that still have our eyes wide open-.

I remembered having showed up at the wedding that day and my friends haven addressed me as “Alhaji Dotun” - they invariably took me to Mecca and back that day.

The journey was going well as planned until I descended the ever-busy pedestrian bridge on the Lagos/Abeokuta road popularly called “Ikeja - along”. I was just negotiating the turn into Awolowo way when an unrecognized voice beckoned at me. I looked to my left and noticed there was a police car parked at the beginning of the street. Many thoughts came to mind. Should I ignore the call? My inner man told me not to, but I tried assuming there were other people around that the policeman was calling but unfortunately, there was nobody going at that time but me. So, I had no choice but to answer. While I was approaching the man, Ifeanyi was coincidentally passing by. Ifeanyi is my cousin’s (whom I stay with) friend. He is more Lagosian than I am and I guess, he knew what gimmicks the Nigerian police could play, especially on a mild-looking,gentle-faced individual like me.

Just as I was heeding the call, I just heard a counter-voice “Oga, wetin him do?”, “Na my brother” then I looked and saw him. Now as I approached the policeman, guess what he asked me? Oga, why you put your had for pocket? I first felt like I needed a hearing aid and I needed him to repeat it. Well, I asked him and the idiot did say it again. I was like WTF. Apparently, my Buba has a pocket to the sides, somewhere closer to my waist region and if you agree with me, you find it easier most times having your hands in those pockets while walking especially when you are not holding anything in your hands. So, I obliged the dark looking officer on duty and showed him my phone and then, my wallet. Next, he asked for my ID card. This I thought I didn’t have with me (when was the last time anyone asked me for a thing like this). I told him, "Oga, all I have here is my ATM" ( trying to open my wallet to show him the content) , thank God, I had no cash in the wallet. In a funny way, I had my money in my pocket.

Next, he asked, what do you do, where do you work? The questions sounded quite unnecessary and unrelated to whatever the cause of our discussion could be but I tried in my calm but burning self to respond to them. I eventually trusted my fingers into the wallet, while trying to prove I don’t have my ID (office ID that is). I came across one LIRS taxpayers TIN card we were given at a time.I brought out the card and showed it to him (I wonder if he read or understood what was written on the card, he just said okay. At that point, I attracted the “vexedness” of one of the other black-uniformed men seated in their always rickety ford. Have you ever noticed that Nigerian policemen have dissimilitude for clean and new cars? If you get them a new car today, it is rickety the next week. They had been giving their “striker” some bodily supports every way they could but at this point, one of them just took it to his head. “So you had the ID and you were telling us you do not have abi" you think we're joking here and bla bla bla.

Have you forgotten Ifeanyi? He is still around and while their point man was engaging me, he was stylishly giving me some support as well as he could so they won't take advantage of the "still fresh in Lagos me". All of a sudden, one of them asked him. Who you be self? Where is your ID card? Unfortunately, Ifeanyi was not with his ID too.Ifeanyi was at that time preparing for his traditional wedding that weekend and was coming from Ikeja city mall (ICM) where he went to get some new things he’ll need when he goes to Ebonyi State but he miraculously came into the scene. He was engaged to this beautiful lady he has married now from Ebonyi state. He is quite light and with a stocky body structure, he was in a 3 quarter short just shooting a bit below his ball and socket joint with two bags in his hands obviously depicting the location he was coming from.

So, while I was being questioned, one of the other two had taken on Ifeanyi. Now, full attention was on him as he couldn’t provide an ID. Ify then brought out one paper I can’t say what the content was for proof that he works with the logistics company ABC transport. The policemen were not ready to hear that and attention was gradually shifting from me to Ify.

Hehe! See drama, these people can be so funny ehn. I guess they had gotten a clue they couldn’t rope me into anything at that time so they wanted to cash on my votary. In a funny way, I became concerned. I had an ID at least and looking at the features I gave of Ify and the culture of our environment, he could be easily roped into whatever they feel they could than I. Then in another way, maybe they probably thought it would be easier to scoop something out of him by psyching him at the end of the altercation than it would be with me (obviously they were looking for money but how they randomly picked me was the issue). I for one don’t like giving or taking bribe. I actually don’t like people telling me what to do before I do them or you know I am about doing something, then you now tell me to do it, I might leave the stuff at that moment and do at a latter time; just so to prove you didn't tell me to do it. This habitually happens with me and my mother when i was younger because she would see you with the broom and that’s when she will tell you to sweep the floor; I just proceed grudgingly or at a later time, give her the obvious response that she can see that was what I was about doing. This is more like my disposition with the subject matter of bribery or people requesting tips while they do what they are supposed to be doing. The reason why I ordinarily am not happy with gate men and receptionists (sorry if you are one and reading this. Hehe!). I'd rather give you something all by myself without you asking, especially when I felt you have acted nicely.

So, as the attention was on Ify, I thought of what to do and as a sharp guy, I used to think I am(I love seeing action and detective movies majorly and have seen how things are been done discretely. At that point in time, I blamed myself for haven not bought the spy pen I had earlier seen on an online mall), I brought out my phone which was at that time in my pocket, looked for an app they use to record videos ( in simple words, I put on my camera) stylishly swung the phone around such that the policemen won’t have a clue to what my mission was. I got some seconds recording and In my mind, I was like wow! another facebook story for me. I was already looking for the hashtags I would use on twitter and the handles I would tag for the post to probably trend; Omojuwa,Ogundamisi,gidi_traffic e.t.c already came to mind. But the issue was we had to leave that place first. I wasn’t sure too if I got any of the names of the policemen, so I decided to go on another attempt. Of a truth at this time, they were already handing off our case systematically. Next thing I was expecting to hear was “you can go” but maybe the policemen don't know how to say it yet.

Suddenly, one of the men wielding a gun in his hands (most likely the popular AK47) beckoned at me. "You are recording abi, you are recording". I am not a good liar so I chose not to respond. He snatched the phone from me and unfortunately, the camera was still active when I was told to unlock the screen. Before I could say jack, I was dragged closer to their car and forced into the back seat. I tried to restrain, thinking that some persons around could just see the chaos and create a scene with the policemen, but I was wrong. I was only reminded of my immediate impression of Lagos as a no man’s land. I had seen situations earlier in this Land wherein everyone is made to carry his cross.

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So I easened up when one of them almost landed an elbow on me when I restricted and forcefully pulled me in. Who am I? "how many body I get wey I go dey drag". I gave up and in the middle of that, Ify asked them which police station they were taking me to and they responded “Area F” …

To be continued…

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