"Hey! Hold it there, if you move I move you!"
As if the menacing voices were not enough, Chuks looked up to see three muzzles of AK47 rifles staring down at him. It was broad daylight in the middle of Bradstreet, just about two kilometres to his home. He froze. What the hell is going on? he wondered.
"Turn off the engine and come down," one of the men in black instructed him. Chuks did not move. Was he not told not to move?
"Are you now deaf? Turn off the goddamned engine and come down, you bloody civilian!" Without further prompting he turned off the engine and in haste to open the door, the car key fell off his hand and dropped into a small space between the driver's seat and the front passenger's seat, an area so tight and dark. He reached out blindly, then realised he had a phone. He switched on the phone's torch, and the little, dark space was flooded with bright white light and he picked up the key. He opened the door cautiously and stepped down.
He saw a police van parked at the corner of the street, a car that bore a resemblance to a very used demolition derby vehicle; it looked as if had been bashed a couple of hundred times, the badly faded white paint on its side inscription read "Special Armed Robbery Squad".
"Oga, how long will it take you to come down from the vehicle? Do you think we enjoy standing in the sun while you lot enjoy your air-conditioned cars?" Chuks was taken aback by the question, are they not doing their jobs by "standing in the rain"? Is that not what they get paid for with money accrued from taxes that he never failed to remit? Instead, he found himself replying, "Sorry sir, I came down as quickly as I can."
This answer did not go down well with one of the policemen that stopped him who yelled, "Oh, you think you are smart? I have shot criminals cleverer than you."
Chuks decided not to say another thing in that direction. He wondered why he was stopped as he was neither over speeding nor defaulted in any of the road traffic regulations.
"Can we see the car's tinted permit? There has been a series of kidnappings around this neighbourhood, and most of them carried out by folks like you riding around in illegally tinted vehicles!" Oh, the infamous tint that the car he bought came with had once again made the police stop him.
Chuks was not surprised by the innuendoes. These corrupt policemen are like fishermen, they throw in bait and wait for a foolish fish to nibble on it.
"While you are at it, hand over your cellphone to Officer Kabira of the Cyber Crime Division for further investigation."
At the word, "investigation" Chuks knew that the men in black are looking for an avenue to extort him.
He handed his phone to the officer that spoke to him. He looked at the place where the police service identification numbers and tags were supposed to be on their uniforms and noticed it had been hacked off. These guys do not want to be identified.
Chuks rummaged through the car's pigeon hole and grabbed all the vehicle's papers and other documentation. He wordlessly handed it over to the man.
"Hey Mister, what is the phone's password?"
Kabiru yelled, even though he had no reason to scream as he was within hearing distance.
"4009," Chuks answered patiently. He knew how to deal with these corrupt police. Never show that you are in a hurry or they would take advantage of that and delay you hoping you will bribe them to secure your freedom.
"I see your occupation is written as "moth". What the heck is a moth?" The team leader asked.
"I hope he's not the type that flies at night," chipped in Kabiru.
"Oh, it's an abbreviation of my profession. I work at the Federal Medical Center. I sometimes carry my patient in this vehicle. That is why I obtained a permit for tinted glass." Chuks explained.
"My friend, I asked you a question. No need for great grammar. What do you do? I never asked you where you work." The man was visibly irritated. Maybe he had seen so far there was nothing to nail him with.
"Sorry, officers. I'm a mortician. It means I work in the mortuary. Sometimes I carry dead bodies with my car."
"Officer Kabiru, give this man his phone back. You can go!"
Chuks nearly burst out laughing as he drove off. The ID he handed the officers were fake. But it always gives every policeman that stopped him the same reaction - no one wants to deal with people whose work revolves around dead bodies.
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