WHEN A POLICE OFFICER TURNS INTO A THIEF

The previous four days before my trip to Uganda to attend Yoweri Museveni’s inauguration were a nightmare.

After the thieves broke into my house on May 6, 2016 and swept anything they could lay their filthy hands on, which included my passport, National Registration Card (NRC), laptop, phone, Automated Teller Machine (ATM) card, among others, I still had plenty to deal with.

For four days until May 10, 2016 when I finally jumped on the plane to Uganda, I had more than enough to deal with.  I had no money to start processing my documents. My boss instructed the accountant to give me the money but that devil of an accountant refused to release the money for reasons best known to herself.

I had to act fast. I had to get some money somewhere and start the process but that was not the only hurdle I had to overcome. At the National Registration Office, another female devil was awaiting me as she told me I needed to go back to Kalomo where I had been issued with the NRC which had been stolen and that nothing could be done for me because there was nothing special about me being in the presidential entourage and that my predicament was not her fault.

It took the Registrar General (RG) himself to sort out my issue and help me with acquiring the passport on the same day but it was later because we were scheduled to leave on May 10, 2016 at 12:00 but I ended up leaving at 18:00 hours as my flight was rescheduled because I could not have my documents replaced on time.

I arrived in Uganda around 03:00 hours and thank God, the team that had gone ahead of me had not only reserved a room for me at one of the nearest hotel where we were to be accommodated for the rest of our stay in Uganda, but had also instructed the hotel to pick me from the airport.

I had only slept for less than two hours when the intercom rang. It was the receptionist telling me she had been instructed to tell me to wake up and be ready by 08:00 and meet the rest of the members of my delegation at the lounge.

I did not want to become a nuisance on the trip. I had already messed up by having my flight rescheduled and that meant government was to be surcharged because of my troubles with the passport and so, I vowed never to make a fool of myself especially now that I was in a foreign land.

I pushed the beddings aside and jumped off the bed, went straight to the bathroom for a shower and after I was done with my preparations, I went down to meet the rest of the delegation.

I found Rebecca Mushota from Times of Zambia, Osward Yambani from MUVI TV, Luckson Nthani from ZNBC, Kozi from ZANIS, as well as Madam Lubumbashi and late Eddie Mwanaleza from State House, among others.

We exchanged pleasantries with Zambian and South African soldiers who were accommodated at the same hotel and spoke passionately about how they missed home as they had been in that country for some time on an operation.

You will never realise how much you love your country until you are away. I was super proud of our gallant men and women. They looked immaculately presentable and well-fed. We quickly had our breakfast rich in fresh foods such as unadulterated fruit juices, fresh fruits and nuts.

I enquired if we were checking out and was told that we were safer in Entebbe than Kampala because it was closer to the airport and so, the team had decided that we would only go to Kampala to finalise our accreditation, go back to Entebbe and then go for the inauguration ceremony in Kampala the following day..

Entebbe is about 35 kilometres from Kampala and is less than an hour’s drive depending on the time of the day, flow of traffic, and the number of check points you have to be subjected to. Zambians are not used to checkpoints where they have to be screened from time to time.

I don’t know if that is the rule of the game in Uganda or maybe it was because of heightened tension ahead of the inauguration of President-elect Yoweri Museveni, but we were subjected to thorough screening at nearly every turn.

It was even worse in Kampala. In the midst of traffic jam as cars and motorbikes were wheezing everywhere, checkpoints became a regular site. Soldiers were all over the streets, highways, and markets. This was strange to me because it doesn’t happen in Zambia.

The only time we see such in Zambia is during celebrations or during the Presidential address to Parliament. Even then, soldiers are only restricted to the Freedom Statue and Parliament and not everywhere.

Accreditation was also tedious. The process was cumbersome and I became unease. But hey, you better behave. Si country yanyoko as late Rupiah Banda would put it. This is Uganda boy, and you better keep your brains in one place.

We concluded our accreditation and returned to Entebbe in the evening and the following day, we went back to Kampala for the inauguration ceremony. We arrived early so that we could make it to the arena on time but we were wrong. Of course we arrived in Kampala early enough and went to the arena early but we were kept outside longer.

When we got to the venue, we were blocked and told that the entrance we wanted to use was not for foreigners but locals. We again went round to the eastern entrance and again we were blocked and told to go back where we came from.

When we went back, one of the soldiers who had initially blocked us identified us and out of anger, told us to leave at once.

We looked at the distance we had already covered and the unnecessary movement we were subjected to and realised that if we continued being obedient, we would continue moving to and from like mad people.

Mr. Mwanaleza suggested we hang around and wait for more people to come so that we could sneak in together and it worked. As more people were pushing and pulling each other to enter, we also found a chance and entered.

When we got to the screening centre, we were again told that there was no list for Zambian reporters and delegates. Honestly, how could they say there was no list for us when we were the first ones to accredit the previous day? Why were Ugandan authorities targeting us?

Mr. Mwanaleza called us aside and spoke to us in the local language so that soldiers could not hear. He advised us to join the queue. He had realised that most reporters from Zimbabwe were not present and advised us to get in once no one claimed to be the person whose name was called out.

It was tricky but it worked out because soldiers were not looking at our accreditation but what we carried into the arena.

I don’t know if Zimbabwean reporters covered that assignment because we went in using their names. We were then subjected to thorough screening. I have never been screened like that in my entire life, not at any airport, not anywhere.

We literally had to present everything we had such as recorders, note books, pens to be physically inspected after which they were pushed into scanners.

Once that was done, we were again thoroughly searched at the time of getting our things. By the time we were finally ushered in, it was after 10:00. Tired but free at last. The event started and was characterized by dances from various groups.

President Edgar Lungu, then Zimbabwe’s President, Robert Mugabe, and Tanzania’s President Pombe Magufuli were among 15 Heads of State that attended the ceremony.

As this was happening, the opposition leader, Kizza Besigye, who had rejected Museveni’s victory in the February 2016 election, had been put under house arrest.

Mr. Besigye had called the election fraudulent and demanded an international audit. Uganda’s highest court then ruled in President Museveni’s favour. Mr. Besigye was arrested as he addressed a crowd of his supporters a day earlier and at that time, he was said to have been detained at an unknown location.

Six fighter jets squirmed around the arena, producing that frightening sound, making some of us not used to seeing such scenes visualise a war in progress.

The Government also blocked social media sites including Facebook and Twitter before the inauguration, a move which made it difficult for us to easily send stories back home as we had only email as our option and this also gave us a problem due to intermittent internet.

During his inaugural speech, President Museveni openly blasted the International Criminal Court (ICC) calling it a useless institution and attacked some international dignitaries, forcing delegates from North America and Europe to walk out of the ceremony in protest against his comments.

After the event, we rushed to the airport for an interview with president Lungu as he was leaving for Zambia. He didn’t say much but appealed to African political leaders to accept election results to prevent unnecessary political turmoil.

We were given time to send our stories back home and once done, we had our “lunch” and headed back to Entebbe. Our flight back home was in the afternoon the following day. The following day in the morning, we had enough time to go window-shopping in Entebbe.

Remember, I had no proper phone. Reporters cannot work without a proper phone for writing stories when in the field and so, I started looking for a phone. I wanted a Samsung galaxy phone but couldn’t find any and I ended up buying a Nokia Lumnia before heading to the airport.

We arrived in Lusaka slightly after 22:00 and went straight to my two-roomed ramshackle in Kanyama. Despite the landlord promising to work on the gate and repair the windows that were smashed by those beats that stole my things a few days before, the wall fence was still yawning for the gate while the smashed window to my bedroom was not yet replaced.

I wondered whether my landlord had the correct brains or he had borrowed chicken brain for him not to realise that we needed the gate as a matter of urgency, more so, the window to my bedroom as the only material separating my bed from being visible from outside was the curtain.

I moved some of the things in my bedroom to the far end of the room, away from the window. I then slept in the sitting room again. The following day, I asked to be off. I went into town to change a few remaining dollars and bought a second-hand laptop.

I wanted to buy a television set but on second thought, I decided not, lest the daredevils came back and stole again since the wicked landlord showed no concern for our safety as he saw no need to put a gate. After all, the chap was not staying in the same yard with us.

Back to Lusaka, I called the police officer who was handling my case and the chap sounded more optimistic than before. He even told me that he was tracking the person who was using the phone and told me he was in Chilanga.

The chap even came home to assure me all would be fine. Little did I know the honcho was only looking for money, knowing that I had just returned from an international trip. He asked for money for fuel saying he wanted to use his private vehicle to go to Chilanga and fish out the person with my phone.

We went to the filling station and put a full tank. You can’t blame me can you? Look, this cop was a relative to one of the news editors in the mainstream media and I was very sure he was as reliable as his relative.

To cut the long story short, it was the last time I ever saw or talked to that man as he ignored all my calls thereafter. I tried to send him messages but to no avail. Three days later, I went to the police post to inquire about his whereabouts but I was told that he had been transferred to another station which they never disclosed to me.

I forgot about my phone and now wanted to hunt down this chap. I called a friend of mine who is also a police officer and asked how much a second-hand pistol would cost and he told me to organize at least K10,000.

He inquired what the pistol was for and I told him it was for my security. He did not believe me because he knew me better.

I did not have money to buy a pistol but I badly needed one. When I pushed him hard to at least lend me his for some time, he realised something was wrong somewhere and so, he came home. When he asked about the window and why things in the house were in disarray, I had no option but to let the cat out of the bag.

It was at that time that he refused to even lend me his pistol because he knew what kind of a person I was. He advised me not to let anger get to my head or I would lose everything I had laboured for, including my promising career. He warned me that if I ever did anything stupid, he would be the first person to come and arrest me. I was hurting. Inside, I was bleeding. I wanted to avenge my stolen things but had no clue how I was going to do it.

I wanted to get revenge over my predicament by either dealing with the police officer or anyone I would suspect to be the one who stole my things.

There is a certain man who I saw growing up in Kalomo. Brilliant chap. He is also a cop. When I narrated the issue to him, he instead gave me a pepper spray can, saying giving me a gun would be creating a disaster-in-waiting.

The hunt for that police officer continued. I went back to the police post and demanded to know the officer who was in charge but the cop I found advised me to go to Kanyama Police Station.

I did not listen to him. I called the Lusaka Province Police Commissioner Nelson Phiri and explained to him what had happened. He told me to call him later in the day as he was going to State House.

About 10 minutes later, I received a call from the Officer-In- Charge at Kayama Police Station who asked where I was and requested me to go to the police station at once. I thought my things had been recovered, kansi wala. Apparently, he had received a bashing from the Commissioner on why his officers were being reckless over my issue.

I was quickly ushered into his office and I explained my situation and told him the officer who was handling my case. He said if I had known, I could have just gone straight to his office because the cop I was dealing with was not truthful.

I was assigned another police officer to look into my case but still, nothing materialised. Well, to cut the long story short, I later learnt that the first police officer who dealt with my case had recovered all my things and decided to keep them.

This was according to the information I gathered from his former workmates and that it was the reason why he had been moved to the traffic section somewhere within Lusaka. Punishment or reward? Who transfers an erring police officer to the traffic section where there is suspected rampant corruption for misbehaving? It did not make sense to me.

It was like grabbing a frog from the land and pushing it into water as punishment. Well, I was healing. With time, I just let the sleeping dogs lie, knowing that I would never recover my things.

What I learnt from that ordeal was that there were extremely good police officers who executed their duties diligently. Again, there were very bad seeds, the most useless chaps like this dissident who saw an opportunity to enrich himself over my predicament.

Unfortunately, such characters are more, making the police service look bad all year round.