HENKING UNDER POLICE ARREST?

Under Police arrest?

The handcuff

So I boarded this sprinter trotro bus from Circle to Nungua after a tiring and a near-fruitless round in the capital city yesterday. One guy who was sitting next to the mate alighted at Teshie Mobile but our car would not move almost two minutes after.

Inquisitive as I am, I giraffed to see if the driver was at post (behind the steer), but he was nowhere to be found. I looked left, right and finally through the rare screen and there the driver was, following this young, (or if you like baby) police officer towards the filling station where a police Pick Up van was parked.

Like the other passengers, I ignored what was happening for a while thinking it was just one of those moments for the officer to grab some “one Ghana for his pocket”. The undue delay aside, we began to sweat profusely in the noise-making scrap metal of a bus; you know the rickety state of a typical Ghanaian, oh no, Accra trotro right?.

Now back to the sermon; All the passengers were visibly angry at this point and would not mind spewing vituperation at the hungry-looing PoliceBOY (Policeman) for holding us hostage for nearly 15 minutes. At least, he could have taken the driver’s details and released him to take us to our destination.

Now I was equally fuming with rage but I decided to go civil so I politely engaged the officer to find out what was happening and possibly say something in defense of the mate (conductor) who was inhumanly whisked into the waiting police van. He was hooked from behind his already ragged, grease-stained trouser, legs barely touching the ground and mercilessly locked in the doubled BED-ROOM (double cabin) pick up.

It was really nauseating but this frail-looking officer was only hiding behind the crown to embarrass the harmless mate and to win “fans” from onlookers. Below is what ensued between Henking Klono Bi and Abai (Koti), the Policeman

Henking: Good evening officer

Police: Silent (He won’t mind me)

Henking: Oh, big man, good evening

Police: Still mute

Then I turned to the mate to demand my balance so I can peacefully continue my journey.

Henking: Mate, chale balance me make I go ok? Anyway what’s your crime? I enquired from the mate

Mate: Them say I overload oooo

Henking: Oh really?

Then I turned to Officer Sir (the Police)

Henking: Oh, officer, from where I was seating I didn’t see him overload ooo

Police: Hey young man, you better shut up. If u don’t take time I will charge you for PERJURE

Then I quickly activated the small Press Law I was taught while studying at the Ghana Institute of Journalism (Thanks to Lawyer Kwamena Ewusi-Brown, that man knows the stuff) and asked myself, ah which of the PERJURIES? Is it the one Ewusi Brown taught me? The one I know or something different?

Henking: Ei officer, you will charge me for what? PER-JU-RE?

Police: Yes, because you are telling lies

Henking: Sorry big man, you can charge me with any other law that comes to mind (which I will contest anyway) but not PERJURE. Perjure, to the best of my knowledge is “lying under oath”. Where is the oath component, granted that I am telling lies? That was my quick response to him, which came almost by reflex action.

Police: H3h !!! You don’t respect h3h? You are challenging a Public Officer? You think you know h3h? Leave here; are you the mate or the driver?

Henking: (With a sarcastic smile broadly on my face and a victory walk). I left the scene quietly to avoid further confrontation, saying to myself, this is SELF DEFENSE. This guy was going to MIS-apply the law on “innocent me”.

Thank God at least I did not look too ignorant before the spectators. Or perhaps I should also have confused the “recruit constable-looking” Police officer with more Latin legal terminologies like habeas corpus, certiorari, mandamus and may be AMICUS CURIAE- you remember this term? It was a nice experience anyway!!!