Of Bent British Coppers** and Life on Mars

Life on Mars - Sam Tyler (John Simm) in the centre

Back in 2008, I blogged about my  fascination with the UK TV series Life on Mars. Quick recap:  The year is 2006 and the setting is Manchester where a high-ranking police officer (Sam Tyler) gets hit by a car while listening to the David Bowie classic Life on Mars? (great song, horrible video...orange hair and a pastel blue suit? Seriously...like what was David Bowie thinking back in the early 70s?). Anyway, Sam Tyler wakes up in Manchester in 1973, is he in a coma? Has he traveled back in time? He is completely clueless and so are we.

So Sam Tyler is stuck in a 1973 nightmare without the internet, mobile phones or computers. He is also forced to put up with dinosaur police colleagues who are sexist, racist and smoke too much. The best character on the show is Sam's whiskey-swigging wise-cracking boss from hell Gene Hunt; an expert at making sexist comments, planting evidence, carrying out grievous bodily harm and of course taking bribes. Since Sam comes from 2006 where all policing is followed strictly by the book, he feels like he "landed on another planet" [part of the show's tagline],

Modern British policing all strictly by the book? Hahaha!  The recent phone-hacking scandal in the UK revealed (among other things), that journalists bribed several police officers over an extended period of time in order to get information about criminal investigations. As appalled as I was about the revelations, the fact that policemen in a model western democracy took bribes gives me ample satisfaction. Why? Well, over the years, us in the [so-called] Third World have been preached to, patronized, and admonished by the West about our weak and corrupt institutions. Turns out people who live in glass houses.....

However, I cannot be rubbing my hands with glee for too long. One thing I know is that once the problem has been identified in the UK, swift corrective action will follow. Indeed, as I type, heads have already started rolling. Alas, that is the difference between our part of the world and the West. On a few occasions, we actually identify the rot but we are either slow to act or choose to ignore the problem for various reasons. So in the end who gets the last laugh?

By the way, someone better tell Sam Tyler that he may be better off staying put in 1973. After all,   things may not have changed that much between then and now. 

**Bent British Coppers= Corrupt British Police officers

Moments Only to be seen In Ghana

The BBC had this feature called "Only in Africa" which had amusing tales of uncanny encounters from across the continent. At first I thought it would be denigrating and full of stereotypes but I ended finding it quite entertaining.

The feature reminded me of when I first came to Ghana to live and everyday encounters were 'Only in Ghana' moments. Some left me amused, perplexed and others downright disturbed! Although these moments have become second nature now, a few new gems have come up recently: 

1. A puzzle that defies logic

You are working late on some mundane task with a young man who hasn't eaten all day.  The nearest  eatery is situated a 10 minute walking distance away. The hungry young man opts to head over to the eatery. You  decide to help out and hand over your car keys. This would also speed up the process and allow you to leave  earlier. The young man sets off. He returns to the office 45 minutes later!

2. Beware: our approach to punctuality MAY be contagious!

The other week I had a meeting scheduled for 2 pm on a

Friday with a young gentleman of Asian persuasion. Around 1:55pm on the day of the meeting, I get a text message from him saying he was coming from the beautiful port city of Tema (about 30 minutes by road) so would be running late due to traffic. I then call up the young man only to find he hadn't left Tema  yet (at 1:57pm) for a meeting in Accra at 2:00pm! Eventually, we rescheduled the appointment for 2pm on another day. On that day, the young'un shows up at 3:15pm with a barrel full of excuses! Later I found out he has lived in Ghana for 6 years. This got me thinking; is our rather flexible approach to punctuality infectious?
 

3. Planes, trains and fear of the witches
Some individuals in Ghana are mysteriously hesitant to tell you when they are planning on traveling abroad. I have always joked that people don't like to announce their travel plans lest they be jinxed , cursed or literally have planes blocked by witches flying alongside on their broomsticks. I'm beginning to think I may be right!
 

Just last week I was looking for a young lady who  occasionally works on our research project to discuss an upcoming field trip. She was nowhere to be found. She was last seen doing some "Bumper to Bumper" moves at our office retreat so I figured she may have taken ill during Easter. Turns out Sister-girl had boarded a plane and had jetted out of GH indefinitely two days after the retreat! Well, if she ever comes to me for a recommendation letter, I would definitely have to put down  somewhere "...displayed an inability to articulate her future plans".

4. Riding in cars with Policemen + Machine guns

Source: www.ghana-net.com

Have you ever seen a Ghanaian policeman with semi-automatic rifle flag down a commercial vehicle (trotro) at a busy bus-stop in Accra? Chances are our man in blue is not  out to inspect brakes, check passenger satisfaction or glance through vehicle papers. Most likely, he's out to hitch a ride! If that's the case, our policeman and his machine gun are given 'special passenger status' up in front with the driver. I'm quite certain most of these rides are free. After all, who would like to ask a fully-armed policeman for 50 pesewas in fare? Besides, he may just start inspecting brakes, check passenger satisfaction or glancing through vehicle papers.
 

5. Taxis that defy understanding. 

Please consider the two following equations: 

*Taxi  -  Passengers = Dangerously slow-moving obstacle on the road travelling at 15km/hour
*Taxi + Passengers = Possessed hell hound dangerously weaving through traffic travelling at 80km/hr

If you try adding Passengers and then subtracting Passengers to the same equation, all you get is a stationary taxi. That's probably the safest taxi to have!

6. Grumblings at the Visa Centre

Speaking of punctuality and jet planes, I recently went to pick up my passport from one of those Schengen Visa centres. I got there 30 minutes early only to find EVERYBODY else had already assembled there anxiously. The centre started calling names 5 minutes late causing the masses to grumble. So the only time we observe time rigidly is when it has something to do with leaving/escaping form Ghana??! *Sigh* You would thinking we are living in Saigon in 1975 and the Viet Cong are approaching the city! 

*Sigh* All these scenarios could happen anywhere in the World but alas, I've experienced them "Only in Ghana". Do you have any to share? 

DISCLAIMER: This post is in no way meant to tarnish or denigrate the image of  the warm, beautiful, vibrant country that is Ghana. I have many "Only in New York" moments to share but I feel these may traumatise and permanently scar my readers. 

Policemen at the Barrier Part 2: House-Call from the Boys in Blue

Kotoka International Airport (KIA)

I seem to be having lots of run-ins with the "boys in blue" aka Ghana's finest aka Ghana Police Service. Our last encounter was at the airport 3 days ago when they supposedly caught me on a traffic violation. Much to their irritation, I refused to acknowledge I was in the wrong and argued with them for about 30 minutes. Of course, in the end one must obey The Law.

Anyway, two days ago, there was yet another interaction with the upholders of the law but luckily I was not home. My mother was just about to enjoy a lovely morning bath when she was told that 3 gentlemen from the Ghana Police Service had arrived looking to have a word. When I heard the story I had assumed that my belligerent encounters of late had been entered into their nifty database and they had used geographic information systems (GIS) and satellite-mapping to pin-point my location. Okay, maybe that is just my paranoia talking.

Anyway, my mother was a little concerned about the visit and since she was just about to step into the bath, asked the house-help to find out what the problem was. The officers declared that they were the delightful public servants who had been at the neighbourhood barrier for the past 3 months and had served and protected the community from thieves. Alas, they were now on their way and so were bidding the 'hood farewell through house-calls. I wish I was there for that moment. Madonna's I'll Remember must have been playing in the background or some such song lamenting the sadness of a parting.

Through the house-help, my mother asked them to kindly hold on while she finished bathing. Fortunately for us, the boys in blue calculated:

Unnecessarily delays (UD) => are inversely proportional to the number of houses to visit (NHV) => which are also directly related to the volume of expressions of gratitude (EG) likely to be received. The equations can be simplified to:

UD =1/EG

Having done rapid mathematics, our visitors abandoned waiting and left abruptly in a huff.

Personally, I'm hardly shocked by the shameless house-call by law enforcement officers to guilt-trip individuals into providing gifts of gratitude for them doing their job. Not shocked but amused, disturbed and slightly saddened.

When Fears come true: Car Trouble at Midnight

I think I watch too many television series involving psychopaths, serial killers, ghouls and demons. Two of my favorites series are Criminal Minds which revolves around a group of FBI profilers chasing the criminally insane while the other is Supernatural which has two brothers driving across the US in search of really scary supernatural forces. Interestingly, these two series have both featured similar scenarios where a woman is driving along an abandoned, isolated, rural road deep in the night. As she drives along, she gets a flat tire. The distraught lady tries her phone and for some reason it is always out of network coverage area. She is always forced to get out of the car and attempt to change the tire when either:

1. A hooded person emerges from the darkness with a long butcher knife
2. A strange car pulls up and offers help and that's the last time the lady is seen alive

So as I headed home alone last Friday around midnight, you can imagine my shock and horror when my car engine stalled after I hit a speed bump. It all happened when I was making the steep descent outside Can-West heading towards the railway line that divides Airport Residential area and Dzorwulu. I managed to reach the bottom of the hill and parked in the darkness on one side of the road. I started the car again and it would not spark! So I reached for my phone and realised that I deserved the 'Genius of Year award' because the whole day I had had silly conversations on both my mobile phones and completely run all my credit down. *Yikes*

I thought about leaving my car there overnight...the only problem being that by the next morning I would have been likely to find that my car had proved useful for anyone looking for free (well-worn) tires, a cellotaped-down dodgy car radio and a battery.

As I sat in the darkness contemplating my next move, a dark-coloured pick-up pulled to a stop in front of me. The images of my car being stripped down were rapidly replaced with picture of a dimly-lit room where my body parts were being cut into small parts and being separated into plastic bags to be sold for juju charms. Out of the car emerged a nice-looking man dressed all in white. White like an angel but I was still very suspicious. For this narrative we will call him 'Man X'. Man X asked politely if I needed help and I nodded desperately as my adrenaline levels started to rise. He tried my car engine and alas, it was very much still dead. He went over to get a rock to hold something steady but me being a little paranoid imagined the rock being the blunt instrument that was about to knock me out cold. So I moved over to stand by the roadside making a call with shaky hands as some woman on the line told me "You have no call credit!"

Man X went over to his truck and took out a short rope...At that point paranoia really took over and I found myself hailing down a passing taxi. The driver stopped and I realised what a ridiculous thing I was doing especially since Man X was trying to help me so waved him on. In the end, my good samaritan concluded that the only way to deal with the predicament was to tow me home. However...
Problem number 1: The rope he had (which was not to tie me up) was too short and not standard issue for towing.
Problem number 2: The Ghana Police Service night patrols may also agree that it was illegal to be towing a car with such a rope and would as we say in Ghana "worry us"

Man X tied up the cars and we set off...all I had to do was watch the brakes and steer...Problem Number 1 was okay and it was all working pretty out well when Problem number 2 set in. Very close to my home in Dzorwulu, Ghana Police Service officers were hot on our heels in full pursuit. They flagged us down full of glee. Man X got out of his truck and explained the scenario and informed the officers that he did not even know me. I confirmed that this was the first time I had set eyes on him and that he had actually saved me from a potentially dodgy situation.

The police were not having it. They said I should have called a tow truck. "A tow Wha??? At that time of the night??" I thought "Where the @#$#@%$@ is that number anyway?" After extensively searching my car, they told me that it was an offense so what was I going to do?...

In the end, the nice officers understood..Well, the understanding came after I gave them a small token for a soft drink. They allowed me to be towed home and were helpful enough to follow us from behind for the rest of the way. I just hope mini-buses brim full of armed robbers were not whizzing by as they provided an escort for me home.

It was only when I got home that I found out Man X's name. His rope was ruined but he refused to take any money to replace it., Last Friday night, this good samaritan really restored my faith in the goodness of Ghanaians. The most annoying part of the whole story was that after Man X had left, I started the car and it sparked without a problem! I wish I had tried the car earlier...before we ran into the cops!

Policemen at the Barrier

The Ghana Police have been very busy lately. Newspapers are awash with sensational headlines of gun-battles reminiscent of movies from the 1970s. You know the type of movies I'm talking about: cops behind a makeshift barrier exchanging gun-fire with robbers clad in black with stockings pulled over their heads.

Aside from tackling the robbery problem, the Police have (or is that 'has'..I never know whether they are plural or singular) really been putting the "Service" back into their name with night-time barrier check-points in neighbourhoods across Accra. So why is it that when I reach the police barrier very near home each night I cringe and groan? Why is it that I would rather take a long, convoluted very pot-holed route just to avoid the barrier? Well, an encounter at the barrier I had last night may give you a clue. I present to you a chapter from Policemen at the Barrier:

On a cloudy July night our heroine Abena is making her way home. 'Kiss me through the phone' is playing on Atlantis FM and she feels good as she croaks along. Just before getting to the dirt road in front of her house, Abena pulls her creaky engine to a stop at the new police barrier in her 'hood. She is met by a jolly, jovial friendly Ghana police officer who leans into the open passenger seat window.

Police-man: Good-evening my sister, how are you (he asks in the Twi language)
Abena: I'm doing well (she replies in okay-Twi)
Police-man: Yesterday you promised me something so here we are (again in Twi)
Abena: It was not me!!! I did not pass this way yesterday (in not-so-good-Twi)
Police-man: It was not you? Okay, so what do YOU have for me today? (he demands in very plain English)

Our Policeman notices our heroine is speaking bad Twi and also appears to have some sort of accent in English.He mentally adds an additional 15% 'Value Added Tax' to whatever he anticipates from the encounter.

Abena: I'm sorry but I don't have anything (she says in reluctant English)
Police-man: Then when? (he quickly retorts back in plain English)
Abena: Maybe tomorrow...

At this point, our heroine mentally calculates an alternative barrier-free route for the next day. She thinks maybe it would be a good idea to load her car with loaves of bread to hand out to police-officers demanding something. Speaking of policemen and bread, Abena's mind suddenly drifts back to a rainy night in late October 2008 when she was awaken by a house-call from 3 members to the Machete-Wielding Thieves Association of Ghana (MWTAG). The next morning after the 3am visit, despite cuts and injuries from a daring jump over her house wall, Abena finds herself ferrying police officers from the Police headquarters to her house just for them to do their job. At some point, Abena is taken aside by the Police Criminal Investigation Department (CID) officer in charge:

CID Man in charge: Do you have some breakfast for my men for coming all the way to take finger-prints? (he asks pointedly)
Abena: Oh I see....(naively turning to her cousin) do we have some bread and Lipton tea for our guests?
CID Man in charge: No, no, no, no, if you give them the money, they can decide on the type of breakfast they want..
Abena: I see...(she says disappointed, saddened and still in pain from her injuries)

After ferrying the officers back to the police head-quarters, Abena forks out GHC2.50 per head + GHC5.00 for the CID man in charge . Breakfast totals GHC15.00. She contemplates how she has been robbed twice: the night before by the MWTAG and now in daylight by the Ghana Police Service. She hobbles back to her vehicle on a big toe split open from the night before. Abena drives off into the clear October day disappointed by Ghanaian law enforcement.

THE END

Let me first start by saying I'm really grateful to the police for their new approaches to combatting crime. So my main gripe here is why is it that the police have turned over a new leaf, started new measures but still have the same old attitudes? They still feel the need to have civilians express their gratitude not through formal taxes but through informal levies. Granted police salaries are terrible and the lack of suitable accommodation is extremely worrying but why are the public constantly guilt-tripped into providing gifts to the police just to show our gratitude for them DOING their jobs? Can someone please explain this to me? In the meantime, I'm taking the long way home.