By Victor Kwame Sampong
Friday started a bit late for me due to some stuff I had to take care of at home, but, once I hit the road, I was optimistic it was going to be productive. Weekends are not to be toyed with as a cab guy.
My first ride of the day was fair. It took me to the Government Reserved Area, GRA, so I used the opportunity to grab some much needed breakfast at my usual joint along the Amaechi Drive, in preparation for the task ahead.
As soon as I got done with that, I switched both my Uber and Bolt apps on. I was lucky, that they both beeped almost simultaneously. A Bolt rider was heading to Iwofe, whereas pick up for the Uber was off Iwofe Road; talk about killing two birds with one stone.
My Bolt rider was around the corner (Prof. Abowei Street), so I picked her up and we headed for Rumuolumeni. I also called the Uber client to buy time, using traffic as an excuse. I even explained to my Bolt client and we just laughed and vibed along that line till I dropped her off, with a N300 (her change) tip as well. I turned around to go get Cliff from Palmgrove Apartments.
It wasn't long until he came out, so the trip started. As it is common with guys like him, he immediately connected to the Bluetooth device in my car. As soon as he did that the conversation started flowing as the jams started playing.
My guy was a poor DJ or so I thought. All his Naira Marley and Zlatan tracks were spoiling the fun. So, I asked to see his tracklist. He obliged and I switched to Omah Lay, Ajebo Hustlers and the groove was back, albeit short-lived.
A tactical unit of the Nigerian Police Force was up ahead and one of them flagged us down. I stopped brought, down the windows as he ordered us to park and come down for routine stop and search.
We obeyed, and my client was the first to be thoroughly searched with nothing found on him. Then it came to my turn and there was nothing found on me too.
The officer spotted the phone in my right palm and asked me to unlock it. It was at that point I even realized I didn't come down with my phone, so I told him it wasn't mine, but I could get mine from inside the car.
As I tried to reach out to get my phone from where I dropped it, the man pulled me by the collar backwards and landed a resounding slap on me. I knew virtue left me immediately that slap landed. I was stunned, but still managed to ask him why the unwarranted attack. That provoked him again to return a second one. I tried to block it but it seemed this particular officer's hands moved faster than Mohammed Ali's. It hit the target anyways.
Again, I enquired to know my crime. My tormentor charged at me asking why I should be holding someone's phone when I'm not related or connected to the person, other than the fact that he's an Uber passenger.
I explained the circumstances that led to the phone being in my possession at the time, plus, bringing the phone down with me was just an involuntary action, I wasn't even aware it was still with me, until he asked.
The one wey come make am vex pass na when I come ask am, how is it a crime for holding someone's phone who's in the same car with me? {The one that made him angry the most was when I asked when it became a crime to hold someone’s phone who’s in the same car with me}
The guy dragged me to their van and cuffed me with my client, while threatening fire and brimstone.
One of them saw the 'PRESS' sticker on my car, so came over to ask "Who's the pressman? I raised my other hand, then he reached out to unlock the cuff from my wrist, but asked that I still remain in the van.
My tormentor went back to the road, along with his crew, randomly stopping and searching. We were there for close to an hour and only decided to go when they 'caught' what seemed to be a 'big fish'.
They entered their vehicle and I was told to sit down at the back with my client, Cliff and the 'big fish'. I asked one of the police guy close to us where they're us to, and the man gave a chilling reply: we dey carry una go SARs office, where dem dey kill people... accompanied by a cheeky smile.”{We are taking you to the office of the Special Anti Robbery Squad, SARS, where we kill people}
As we sat in their car and they zoomed off, I noticed one of them was driving my car behind us.
I sought to find out from my companion beside me what his offense was. He said they found seeds of left over 'weed' in his side bag hung around his neck. I just talk for my mind sey this one don enter. Na why dem close work. {I just thought to myself that he was in real trouble. No wonder they closed for the day}
Well, we got to the SARs office at Rumukpokwu and we were ordered to come down. The Uber ride was still on, so the map must have been giving directions all through our ride to the dreaded police station. That was why my chief persecutor brought my phone to me saying I should end the ride and hand over the phone to him. So, while he was distracted, I quickly sent a text message to the saved number on my call logs, name was Mama Carlos and the text read: Call China, SARs carry me SOS. {Call Mr. China Acheru, I’ve been abducted by SARS. SOS}
I had to be fast and do it unnoticed. No time to think anything through or cherry pick who to send to. But I knew if she saw the message she'll reach out to him because they both know each other.
I handed the phone back to my tormentor. We were marched into an uncompleted building, just beside the main entrance. They then told us to sit on the rough floor, which we did without complaints. The other officer who told me earlier that we were headed to a slaughter ground then called Cliff to take his statement, while my tormentor started with the 'weed guy'.
A few minutes later, a POS (Point Of Sales) machine operator who identified himself as Emmanuel came in to give my Tormentor some cash, from what seemed like a previous successful transaction.
After taking the weed guy’s statement, he asked him a straight up question.
“What do you want the police to do for you? You want us to charge you to court or settle here with you?”
The guy chose to settle and negotiations began from a hundred thousand naira or so. I think they later settled for a huge sum and one of them with scary beards, someone I knew for years, because we trained together (football) at the Captain Elechi Amadi Polytechnic Pitch back then, later gave him a bank account number to conclude the negotiations and transactions.
I switched my focus to Cliff's end. He maintained his earlier stand that he wasn't a yahoo boy (Internet fraudster) and the driver (me) wasn't covering anything for him. He gave me his phone willingly to change songs and that was it. His response infuriated my chief persecutor and he charged at him with a green pipe (like the narrow underground water pipes), flogged him 3 times on his back. The fellow immediately broke into tears, yet refused to recant his statement.
He was about to hit him a fourth time when I stood up and asked him why the violence? Big mistake, but I did it.
I asked, “What exactly do you want him to say? We have been saying the same thing since you accosted us, because that was how it happened. Now, the phone has been unlocked and searched.
“There is nothing incriminating on it, so why this torture?” I asked.
Maybe, I should have kept quiet. But as we say in local parlance, I don buy market {I was now in deep doodle}
The officer, who I later got to know is an inspector, came at me, raging like a mad bull, with punches and slaps. He then took me down, MMA style, using my slippers as a weapon. Then he stood up to get his pipe, hit me with it a couple of times while I tried to block the ones I could from getting to my head or face. I guess being an ardent boxing fan helped, plus I've watched many 'action films' so, I tried to dodge some of his punches too. Lol!
He got tired and went out fuming. He was screaming and shouting, asking why I should question him. Then the line I've always expected from them: do I want to teach him his job? He promised to deal with me and lock me up till Christmas. If na for night, he would have shot me and discarded my corpse. {saying, If it was night, he would have shot me and discarded my corpse}
He came back a few minutes later and asked me to take off my clothes. Before I could react, my white shirt was being forcefully removed. After they had done that, he got to my belt and pulled it so hard that the leather broke. My trousers had already gone down my waist, but with my feet still stuck, he resorted to pulling them off anyways. It was tight at the ankle, so while he was pulling, I was being dragged around the room with my bare back scrubbing the rough floor.
I could count about five policemen in the same room but none did anything. They enjoyed every bit of it. Some even consoled me by saying "this one sef small. Na when una reach inside the main cell una go see something”. {This one is even light. When you enter the main cell, you will get the main dose of our brutality}
Soon enough, it was my turn to write my statement. The one who took Cliff's was the same person assigned to me. I could barely hold the pen due to the pains in my hands, they were shaky. The officer noticed and asked me to take some time off to calm down. I was still in my underwear, with nothing else on me.
I managed to get a hold of myself and proceeded to write the statement, with the officer acting as my guide intermittently. Barely halfway through, the fair one who had earlier removed the cuffs from my wrist walked in and from the looks on his face, he wasn't pleased with my appearance. He asked what happened and I explained with the marks and sore on my body.
He took a second look at my ID card and sought audience with his colleagues.
Soon after, the one who was taking my statement called me into another room to tell me their oga has looked into my case and I could be on my way out of there immediately I finish my statement.
When I came in, my tormentor was also taking another hard look at my Press ID, turning it back and front. He asked me to get dressed and come sit by him, which I did. He then tried to apologize for his earlier actions, telling me how nice a person he is. The man even offered to buy me a new belt or give me the money to get a new one. Wow! Such quick turnaround? I declined his offer anyways.
They gave me back my personal effects and released Cliff as well. We both stepped out, stood for a few minutes to make sense of what we've just gone through. Nothing made sense. We promised to keep in touch and bade each other goodbye.
I got into my car, and made my way home. I could barely hold the steering nor clench a full grip or fist as the back of my hands were swollen, with pains on the left side of my body and a few bruises on my right elbow.
I stopped by a pharmacy, bought some painkillers, took them right after I had my bath and slept off. I woke up and it seemed the pains tripled. I called someone to help massage my arm, took some more painkillers and slept some more. This was the routine for the entire weekend. When I look back at the events of Friday, I realized I could have easily been killed, my corpse buried behind their building and no one would ever know what happened.
I thought ENDSARS ended SARS?
Friday started a bit late for me due to some stuff I had to take care of at home, but, once I hit the road, I was optimistic it was going to be productive. Weekends are not to be toyed with as a cab guy.
My first ride of the day was fair. It took me to the Government Reserved Area, GRA, so I used the opportunity to grab some much needed breakfast at my usual joint along the Amaechi Drive, in preparation for the task ahead.
As soon as I got done with that, I switched both my Uber and Bolt apps on. I was lucky, that they both beeped almost simultaneously. A Bolt rider was heading to Iwofe, whereas pick up for the Uber was off Iwofe Road; talk about killing two birds with one stone.
My Bolt rider was around the corner (Prof. Abowei Street), so I picked her up and we headed for Rumuolumeni. I also called the Uber client to buy time, using traffic as an excuse. I even explained to my Bolt client and we just laughed and vibed along that line till I dropped her off, with a N300 (her change) tip as well. I turned around to go get Cliff from Palmgrove Apartments.
It wasn't long until he came out, so the trip started. As it is common with guys like him, he immediately connected to the Bluetooth device in my car. As soon as he did that the conversation started flowing as the jams started playing.
My guy was a poor DJ or so I thought. All his Naira Marley and Zlatan tracks were spoiling the fun. So, I asked to see his tracklist. He obliged and I switched to Omah Lay, Ajebo Hustlers and the groove was back, albeit short-lived.
A tactical unit of the Nigerian Police Force was up ahead and one of them flagged us down. I stopped brought, down the windows as he ordered us to park and come down for routine stop and search.
We obeyed, and my client was the first to be thoroughly searched with nothing found on him. Then it came to my turn and there was nothing found on me too.
The officer spotted the phone in my right palm and asked me to unlock it. It was at that point I even realized I didn't come down with my phone, so I told him it wasn't mine, but I could get mine from inside the car.
As I tried to reach out to get my phone from where I dropped it, the man pulled me by the collar backwards and landed a resounding slap on me. I knew virtue left me immediately that slap landed. I was stunned, but still managed to ask him why the unwarranted attack. That provoked him again to return a second one. I tried to block it but it seemed this particular officer's hands moved faster than Mohammed Ali's. It hit the target anyways.
Again, I enquired to know my crime. My tormentor charged at me asking why I should be holding someone's phone when I'm not related or connected to the person, other than the fact that he's an Uber passenger.
I explained the circumstances that led to the phone being in my possession at the time, plus, bringing the phone down with me was just an involuntary action, I wasn't even aware it was still with me, until he asked.
The one wey come make am vex pass na when I come ask am, how is it a crime for holding someone's phone who's in the same car with me? {The one that made him angry the most was when I asked when it became a crime to hold someone’s phone who’s in the same car with me}
The guy dragged me to their van and cuffed me with my client, while threatening fire and brimstone.
One of them saw the 'PRESS' sticker on my car, so came over to ask "Who's the pressman? I raised my other hand, then he reached out to unlock the cuff from my wrist, but asked that I still remain in the van.
My tormentor went back to the road, along with his crew, randomly stopping and searching. We were there for close to an hour and only decided to go when they 'caught' what seemed to be a 'big fish'.
They entered their vehicle and I was told to sit down at the back with my client, Cliff and the 'big fish'. I asked one of the police guy close to us where they're us to, and the man gave a chilling reply: we dey carry una go SARs office, where dem dey kill people... accompanied by a cheeky smile.”{We are taking you to the office of the Special Anti Robbery Squad, SARS, where we kill people}
As we sat in their car and they zoomed off, I noticed one of them was driving my car behind us.
I sought to find out from my companion beside me what his offense was. He said they found seeds of left over 'weed' in his side bag hung around his neck. I just talk for my mind sey this one don enter. Na why dem close work. {I just thought to myself that he was in real trouble. No wonder they closed for the day}
Well, we got to the SARs office at Rumukpokwu and we were ordered to come down. The Uber ride was still on, so the map must have been giving directions all through our ride to the dreaded police station. That was why my chief persecutor brought my phone to me saying I should end the ride and hand over the phone to him. So, while he was distracted, I quickly sent a text message to the saved number on my call logs, name was Mama Carlos and the text read: Call China, SARs carry me SOS. {Call Mr. China Acheru, I’ve been abducted by SARS. SOS}
I had to be fast and do it unnoticed. No time to think anything through or cherry pick who to send to. But I knew if she saw the message she'll reach out to him because they both know each other.
I handed the phone back to my tormentor. We were marched into an uncompleted building, just beside the main entrance. They then told us to sit on the rough floor, which we did without complaints. The other officer who told me earlier that we were headed to a slaughter ground then called Cliff to take his statement, while my tormentor started with the 'weed guy'.
A few minutes later, a POS (Point Of Sales) machine operator who identified himself as Emmanuel came in to give my Tormentor some cash, from what seemed like a previous successful transaction.
After taking the weed guy’s statement, he asked him a straight up question.
“What do you want the police to do for you? You want us to charge you to court or settle here with you?”
The guy chose to settle and negotiations began from a hundred thousand naira or so. I think they later settled for a huge sum and one of them with scary beards, someone I knew for years, because we trained together (football) at the Captain Elechi Amadi Polytechnic Pitch back then, later gave him a bank account number to conclude the negotiations and transactions.
I switched my focus to Cliff's end. He maintained his earlier stand that he wasn't a yahoo boy (Internet fraudster) and the driver (me) wasn't covering anything for him. He gave me his phone willingly to change songs and that was it. His response infuriated my chief persecutor and he charged at him with a green pipe (like the narrow underground water pipes), flogged him 3 times on his back. The fellow immediately broke into tears, yet refused to recant his statement.
He was about to hit him a fourth time when I stood up and asked him why the violence? Big mistake, but I did it.
I asked, “What exactly do you want him to say? We have been saying the same thing since you accosted us, because that was how it happened. Now, the phone has been unlocked and searched.
“There is nothing incriminating on it, so why this torture?” I asked.
Maybe, I should have kept quiet. But as we say in local parlance, I don buy market {I was now in deep doodle}
The officer, who I later got to know is an inspector, came at me, raging like a mad bull, with punches and slaps. He then took me down, MMA style, using my slippers as a weapon. Then he stood up to get his pipe, hit me with it a couple of times while I tried to block the ones I could from getting to my head or face. I guess being an ardent boxing fan helped, plus I've watched many 'action films' so, I tried to dodge some of his punches too. Lol!
He got tired and went out fuming. He was screaming and shouting, asking why I should question him. Then the line I've always expected from them: do I want to teach him his job? He promised to deal with me and lock me up till Christmas. If na for night, he would have shot me and discarded my corpse. {saying, If it was night, he would have shot me and discarded my corpse}
He came back a few minutes later and asked me to take off my clothes. Before I could react, my white shirt was being forcefully removed. After they had done that, he got to my belt and pulled it so hard that the leather broke. My trousers had already gone down my waist, but with my feet still stuck, he resorted to pulling them off anyways. It was tight at the ankle, so while he was pulling, I was being dragged around the room with my bare back scrubbing the rough floor.
I could count about five policemen in the same room but none did anything. They enjoyed every bit of it. Some even consoled me by saying "this one sef small. Na when una reach inside the main cell una go see something”. {This one is even light. When you enter the main cell, you will get the main dose of our brutality}
Soon enough, it was my turn to write my statement. The one who took Cliff's was the same person assigned to me. I could barely hold the pen due to the pains in my hands, they were shaky. The officer noticed and asked me to take some time off to calm down. I was still in my underwear, with nothing else on me.
I managed to get a hold of myself and proceeded to write the statement, with the officer acting as my guide intermittently. Barely halfway through, the fair one who had earlier removed the cuffs from my wrist walked in and from the looks on his face, he wasn't pleased with my appearance. He asked what happened and I explained with the marks and sore on my body.
He took a second look at my ID card and sought audience with his colleagues.
Soon after, the one who was taking my statement called me into another room to tell me their oga has looked into my case and I could be on my way out of there immediately I finish my statement.
When I came in, my tormentor was also taking another hard look at my Press ID, turning it back and front. He asked me to get dressed and come sit by him, which I did. He then tried to apologize for his earlier actions, telling me how nice a person he is. The man even offered to buy me a new belt or give me the money to get a new one. Wow! Such quick turnaround? I declined his offer anyways.
They gave me back my personal effects and released Cliff as well. We both stepped out, stood for a few minutes to make sense of what we've just gone through. Nothing made sense. We promised to keep in touch and bade each other goodbye.
I got into my car, and made my way home. I could barely hold the steering nor clench a full grip or fist as the back of my hands were swollen, with pains on the left side of my body and a few bruises on my right elbow.
I stopped by a pharmacy, bought some painkillers, took them right after I had my bath and slept off. I woke up and it seemed the pains tripled. I called someone to help massage my arm, took some more painkillers and slept some more. This was the routine for the entire weekend. When I look back at the events of Friday, I realized I could have easily been killed, my corpse buried behind their building and no one would ever know what happened.
I thought ENDSARS ended SARS?
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