The whole drama started after I waded through the notorious traffic in Apata, got to Omi Adio and headed to the rock city. A few minutes after I left Omi Adio, I met a police checkpoint on the lonely road and I thought being a journalist, I would not have any problem with the policemen at the checkpoint, but what I encountered left a sour taste in my mouth.
As I got to the point, a policeman flagged me down and looking at him, I could sense that he was already dead drunk early that morning. After flagging me down, I exchanged pleasantries with him, he just shunned the greetings and said I should respect myself! I was flabbergasted.
Of course, I asked him what the problem was and he said I was insulting him. I asked him how. What he said surprised me. He said I did not wind down while talking to him and that I also insulted him by sitting down in the car. He then said how I, a driver, could be talking to him sitting down in the car.
Then I knew something was wrong with the man and I quickly told him to stop referring to me as a driver. “Oga, I am not a driver, this is my car,” I told him in anger. He then wondered how a ‘young’ man like me could be driving a brand new car instead of being driven. He said he thought I was a driver because drivers drive those kind of cars that I drive while their bosses sit at the ‘owner’s corner’.
Yet, he did not allow me to go. After some time, he said I should show my Identity card for him to know it was my car. I asked him what had the card got to do with the car, but in anger, he insisted I showed him the card. Then, I was seething with anger because I knew he was wasting my time and I was not ready to give him anything. After looking at the card, the first question he asked baffled me.
“So you are association editor? Which association is that?”I found it hard to laugh at that ignorance. But I tried to inform him that I am an associate editor in Tribune, telling him that I am one of the editors with the newspaper. But he was not yet through with me. The next comment he made shocked me to the marrow.
“See o, this ID card says African Newspapers of Nigeria Plc., and you claim you are working in Tribune and even driving Tribune car, this is a case of stolen vehicle, Oya paaaaark well, young man,” he shouted, aiming his gun at me.
I was too shock to do anything at that moment. My fear was that if this man went ahead to shoot me at that lonely road, no one would know about it.
After parking my car well as he ordered, I decided to see the leader of the patrol team who was comfortably seated in their patrol vehicle and was busy eating boiled corn. He was more courteous. On getting to him, he quickly left the car and asked me what the problem was.
Because I wore the Tribune official T-shirt which we normally wear on Wednesdays, he quickly said “Mr. Tribune, what is the problem?” I told him about what I was going through in the hands of one of his ‘boys; and how he held on to my ID card.
He asked the policeman to bring the card and after reading through, he became angry and told the man that he should have read the card well, and that Nigerian Tribune is the same as the African Newspaper of Nigeria Plc.
The patrol leader apologised profusely, gave me my ID card and asked me to go. I already knew I could not meet the 10.00 a.m. appointment I had in Abeokuta. And can you imagine? On entering my car, the policeman still came to me and asked me if I would not give them something. In anger, I told him that he should learn how to be courteous next time and zoomed off.
What we are trying to point out here is the way some of our policemen throw caution to the winds sometimes when they are in uniform. Could you imagine what would have happened to me if I was a driver or if I did not have my ID card with me at that moment? In fact, a case of stolen vehicle would by now be hanging on my neck, or I would have been shot in that lonely, quiet road and may have been described as an armed robber. But thank God for his mercies and I eventually got late to the programme.
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