I learnt early, as a young reporter, that the police was not to be trusted. In my search for practical knowledge as a student, I had gone to the Nigerian Television Authority, Benin , to work during the holidays. One of the assignments I was sent to cover involved the police who said they had shot dead some dare-devil armed robbers who had waylaid a luxury bus travelling to the east. The State Police Public Relations Officer had requested television coverage to break the ‘exciting’ news. Since the reporter covering that beat was away on vacation, I was asked to cover the briefing.

True to their word, there were some bullet-ridden bodies on display at the Police Divisional Headquarters at Ikpoba Hill where we, my cameraman and I, were taken to. The PRO explained in graphic details how his men swooped on the robbers who were robbing occupants of the bus and immediately despatched them to the great beyond. The story sounded really good.  

I did not have any doubt until I was editing the visuals back at the television station. One of the older reporters in the editing room with me sighed and said, “This story definitely sounds good, but let us hope that this time around, these were actually armed robbers.” I was taken aback! Then I remembered that there was actually no luxury bus anywhere around the premises where the bodies of the alleged robbers were displayed; only a Peugeot 505 car which was alleged to have been used by the robbers.

For the first time, I realised that sometimes what we see or are told might not be real. And to think that they had offered me some of money for my organisation’s usual cooperation. My reaction to that offer had caused quite a stir as I had been taught in the classroom never to accept any gratification from my news source; it is against the ethics of my profession. Details of that encounter were later published in ‘The Communicator’, a mass communication journal, which I edited two years later.

In another encounter with the police after that, one of them told me point blank that their duty was to prove to me, and convince me, that I had broken the law so that they could take my money. And they did!

These two encounters, and many others, informed my attitude to the police until, well, I married the daughter of a policeman. And my father-in-law’s story is both pathetic and appalling. Here is a man who joined the Police Force about 32 years ago. Some 28 years down the line, he was still a Police Inspector, in spite of the fact that he had improved himself academically over the years. His sin was that he joined the Force with little education, so whatever degrees he acquired while in service did not really count. One of the reasons he wore that rank for over ten years was because he is from Edo State and the few spaces at the top meant for those from that region were never really available. What was more, he was not ready to grease anybody’s palms.

I remember taking his case to my cousin, a Commissioner of Police.

“Which state is he from?” she asked me.

I told her.

“Ah!” she exclaimed. “That is quite normal. I spent over ten years as a Police Inspector myself. Don’t worry! He will be promoted when the time comes.”

I was grieved. Here is a man who as a Station Officer, the man in charge of security of his division, personally leads his men to the field anytime there is trouble. As a Nigerian, he could decide to stay in the comfort of his office and issue commands. But no! Whenever gun shots are heard in his area, he mobilises his men and personally leads the team. Everyone has pleaded with him not to risk his life so much, but he insists there is only one life to live and he would rather live his doing what he loves doing best – serving humanity.

Sometimes, my father-in-law jumps out of bed because he heard a gunshot in his sleep, so he must go and find out where it came from. His wife and children have pleaded with him to take it easy because Nigeria , especially the Police Force, is not worth dying for, but he would not listen. One night, he actually threatened to throw his heavily-pregnant wife out of the way, if she did not open the door for him to go out and find out where some gunshots were coming from. So the only thing the woman can do is become a prayer warrior extraordinary, pleading with God relentlessly not to let her husband fall by armed robbers’ bullets.

His hard work and dedication to duty have been variously recognised with more work and some verbal commendations, not with promotions. He is always called upon to lead one team or the other any time the President of the Federal Republic of Nigeria is visiting Lagos . Nobody has ever remembered that his mates, most of the people he joined the Police Force with, are at least three or four clear ranks ahead of him because they are from states whose quotas have to be filled with anyone who is available.

Most of the time, I honestly feel he is in the wrong profession.

“No,” he says, “it is the bad eggs in the Force that are in the wrong profession. Someday, they will all be weeded out.”

His time finally came less than two years ago when he was promoted Assistant Superintendent of Police. For all the hype, his basic salary was still less than N20,000. To be precise, it was about N19,500 until about January this year when some bogus salary review was announced for the men of the Force. Even then, that review has not been effected till now. And some of the men under his command earn as little as N7,500 after deductions. Is it not amazing that these are the people we are all banking on to perform their duties creditably well and provide the much-needed security? 

For all my father-in-law’s efforts at protecting the lives and property of others, his own life is not secure, and he does not have a plot of land anywhere, except in his village. Until the year 2000, when through some stroke of luck and sheer determination he was allocated a two-bedroom flat in the barracks, he lived with his family in a one-room rented apartment in one of the worst parts of Lagos mainland.

He remembers with sorrow and regrets how he and his men once bowed to the superior firepower of some dare-devil armed robbers. The only thing that gives him consolation with regard to that encounter is that he did not lose any of his men. In another incident last year, he recalls getting to the scene of a robbery incident with his men in the middle of the night and counting well over 50 armed robbers milling out of a particular bank. Given the necessary weapons, he insists that he could have wiped them out within a few minutes. But, you see, wishes are not horses. Till now, he says that in all his 32 years of service, these are the two incidents he would rather not remember because they give him nightmares.

One of the things that frustrate and annoy him is that he is restrained from doing what he knows is the right thing to do by ‘orders from above.’ Once, he was asked to handle gun-brandishing OPC members with kid gloves because someone up there had some interest in them. All he was supposed to do was follow them with his men, as they shot sporadically into the air in celebration of their boss’ birthday and not ask any questions or make any arrests.

My father-in-law’s motto is: Man God man. In my own understanding, that means you are the god others see, so you ought to do as much good to them as you can. No wonder he believes he must help others even at a great risk to his own life and even his family. The interesting thing is that his benevolence paid off only recently when a man he had helped without asking for or accepting anything turned out to be a top executive in a multi-national company. The man instantly gave his wife distributorship of their fast-moving consumer products and that, at no cost. She simply picks whatever products she wants to sell and pays only after selling.

Now, I am not in any way suggesting that my father-in-law is the only honest and dedicated policeman in Nigeria . I believe they exist in different departments of the Force. The problem is that they are either frustrated out of the corrupt, ineffectual system or kept perpetually under. And the case of Alozie Ogugbuaja, a former Force Public Relations Officer, readily comes to mind.

One only hopes that this endangered specie does not become extinct with time. If it does not, then there is hope that someday one sane policeman will attain the position of the Inspector General of Police and set in motion the machinery to effect the radical changes needed to make the Police Force what it should be.

Robot  Villager

# 1 ...Read the full article. Posted by Robot| 18.06.2007 10:04