Commander

Abeiku did a quick mental calculation. It was 12:30pm and it was fairly safe to assume there would be close to no police at their posts. Surely, they should making their way to lunch. A lot of people had used the highway already and they should have amassed enough bribe already. Seeing a long stretch of road ahead, he stepped down on the gas pedal and allowed his Range Rover to show off her true potential.

And what a beauty! In a matter of minutes, the arrow on the speedometer swung up to the 200 mark. He was cruising and it felt good. It was moments like these he had longed for. They gave him stories for his friends when they met to boast about their streetwise rebellion.

He had always taken pride in his sharp eyesight. He could see for about a billion feet ahead, and what his eyes told him now suggested that he’d been wrong about his earlier assumptions. His eyes settled on the sight of two burly men dressed in their blue tell-tale uniforms, signalling for him to pull over. For a millisecond, he thought of ignoring them and speeding off, but then he spotted the motorcycle parked next to the police post. These motorcycles were known to give a hot chase to even the fastest of cars.

So he pulled over, and rolled his glass down. Mustering the haughtiest face he could, he turned to snarl out of the window at the police man with the clipboard. Last week, Ato had told the boys a trick that always helped him escape the hands of the law. It was time to execute it.

“Yes?” he growled. His voice got even deeper and more intimidating when he growled. Surely this police man was no match for him.

“Good afternoon sir.”

“Good afternoon,” he mumbled reluctantly

“You do realize you were driving way above the speed limit, don’t you? That’s against the law.”

“I know that.”

“Good. I’m going to ask you to hand over your papers. We’ll settle this at the police station.”

“Do you know who I am?! DO YOU?! Boy, all of you need to be reported. So much disrespect. So much impunity. Ordering the Police Commander’s brother to hand over his papers? Oh Ghana.”

“Excuse me sir, what did you say?” said the policeman, with something in between a smirk and an embarrassed smile. Yes! It was working! Boy, wouldn’t it be something to laugh over when he told the boys.

“I saaid, the Police Commander is my brother!”

“I’m sorry sir, you’re speaking to the Police Commander. And I have no brothers. Only sisters.”

By Edith Smart