From Teacher To Policeman

In January, 1958, I entered the teaching field and was posted to the mission school at Amassoma where my father was headmaster. The school had a population of about six hundred pupils. I was the next most qualified teacher so I became the second master. Power was in my hands. I could hear the throttle in me pressing on power. Funny enough, some of my former elementary school teachers were my colleagues as staff.

This was also the period when broader issues than teaching began to make an impression on me. Little did I know of politics. Less did I know of why it existed at all. Meanwhile, whether I knew nothing of this hydraheaded monster or not, a freezing political blizzard was blowing its way throughout Eastern Nigeria. Chief Obafemi Awolowo had introduced what he called his Free Primary Education. This book is not to discuss the merits and demerits of that system. In fact, I shall leave it to educationists. But I shall mention certain effects it had on the overall educational system in so far as it concerned the subsequent events which led to the rising in the Niger Delta which is the ultimate aim of this book.

A similar system was introduced in the East. They left the former eight-year primary school education system intact, made it free from infant one to standard six. The result was disastrous. Within a year, the Eastern system had collapsed. Owing the influx of children, there were no funds to meet the corresponding demands such as building of more school houses, staff requirements and other exigencies. Consequently, the debilitating factors compelled the then Eastern Government to repeal the Universal Primary Education Law. It also levied heavy fees to meet losses. Live fast and die young! What was the reply of the eastern public? Widespread rioting. Our women compatriots took the lead so that other subsequent rioters wore women's clothes. The school where I was was no exception. The women acted swiftly. Two hundred pounds, which my father had collected from the school children, were seized and a rough receipt given. The money was not to be returned until Universal Primary Education returned. Never! The children were dispersed home and there was an indefinite holiday.

Meanwhile the news of the incident was traveling like light. In less than twenty-four hours after the incident, half a unit of the Nigeria Police arrived. The mere sight of the government boat brought widespread consternation. People fled the town to hide in the nearby bushes. In the meantime, the Police landed, twenty-five of them. They were in no hurry. First things first. A hungry man is an angry man. Aiming a rifle at a fat goat by the waterside, they brought it down for the cooking party. The rest, led by an assistant superintendent, Mr. Mba (who later became a colleague of mine) went to my father's quarters, asked for the home of that dare-devil woman who led the rioters, and they proceeded there. They were doing everything with assured precision and authority, which I admired tremendously.

There and then I blamed myself for joining such a profession as teaching where you only grow old and announce to audiences that Mr. Tom, the superintendent, was my classmate, and you know Mr. Harry, the minister, was my school boy, very dull in his days! No, the Police was the place for me. Power, authority, compelled respect, everything. Damn the teaching profession. I must leave before it gets into my blood.

I was only three months old in the teaching field. In April, I took leave of my father quietly after a lot of persuasions for me to remain. How could I remain? To serve the ungrateful mission for thirty years like my father and end up as a schoolmaster? To be applauded after thirty years as the holy-son-of-a-bitch? Negative! In the same April, I crashed into the police headquarters brandishing my credentials. I was invited for an interview along with others on the 24th of April to ascertain our suitability for the existing cadet courses.

It was a brief but intense interview. I had already started an overseas diploma course in Police Duties and Criminology. No question was asked on either of the subjects since they expected us to be ignorant civilians. However, a funny thing happened.

"Are you interested in sports?" a Board member asked me.

"Of course, yes!" I answered delightedly.
"What types?" he continued.
"Many short distance races, soccer, swimming, tennis....."

"All right," he stopped me astonishingly. Have we started policing already? I would need a change of clothes anyway, I thought.
"Your prominence?" another said.
"What prominence?" I inquired.
"Athletic prominence," he explained.
"Oh! I was captain of star soccer club, Warri and ......"
"Who is the flying policeman?" the next man continued the relay. My God Almighty. The police is really great. So a policeman flies.
"I am sorry, I do not know of any human who flies," I apologised.
There was a brief official laughter. I was finished. I thought I had scored one mark with sports, now I have erased it to zero with a minus one in this last question.
"Don't you know Joseph Adeola?" he explained.
"Joseph Adeola, the sportsman? of course, I do hear of him. You will pardon me if he is nicknamed the 'flying policeman.' It must be a new development, I haven't read the papers for the past three months," I pleaded.
"Why?"

"In the Niger Delta Area, mails travel slower than from Lagos to the United States by an Ocean liner," I explained sarcastically.

There was an approving nod from several members and the matter was declared closed. After a few other questions, I was asked to leave. Other candidates went in for their turn of bombardment. On their return each presented a sweating squeezed face. One of the candidates, a treasury clerk from Enugu in Eastern Nigeria, said he was asked why he wished to leave his present employment to join the Police Force. Definitely, a similar question had been thrown to all of us, but his answer was what aroused interest. He said it was because there was more money in the Police Force than where he worked. It was alarming to hear from him also that he was earning $486 in the Treasury, but he was to be paid just $300 after the Cadet School. Where was the extra money to come from? Of course, that was not for us to answer, bit the interview board. In those my innocent days, I could have abandoned the plan of joining the Police if I were chosen along with such a determined cheat.

After a long waiting, the staff officer, Mr. Briffet, appeared and announced the results. A candidate called Pam, from the North, and myself had been chosen and the rest were advised to try their luck elsewhere.

I did not go for training until December 1958. The course was very enjoyable. It was attended by some of Nigeria's most brilliant secondary school leavers, resourceful and eager to make the Police Force exemplary. However, I maintained a steady position between the first and the fifth in the examination results until we graduated in a parade. The salute was taken by Sir Ralph Grey, the then Deputy Governor-General. What I shall never forget was the spirit of oneness, known as esprit-de-corps, which existed in all the cadets, a spirit which is still, I observe, an over-riding requirement in the activities of the Nigeria Police. We pledged to one another that corruption must be stamped out even if it meant our being stamped out. How many of us stood by our promise is what I cannot tell nor, as you will find out later, did I remain long enough to tell.

We left the training college for a tour and then a month's leave to our home areas, fresh with ideas about Police duties, Criminal Law and Evidence. I was determined to impress my people as much as possible with my new calling. I would tell them they had no need to fear threatening police investigators any more, now that their son was already a police officer.

I arrived home and was hailed from village to village. The boat in which I travelled escaped molestation by the River Police and this made my people beam with happiness, even more so when I paid my fare correctly. It was on my return journey that a dramatic event happened. I had always felt that my first personal arrest should be of a trifling nature. It must be something adventurous. The launch in which I travelled was owned by the Inland Waterways Department and it plied the area once a a month. They were notorious for their complete lack of civility to the villagers. One would have thought that, in the presence of an arm of the Law, they would desist from their incivility. I was wrong.

On the shores of my town, Kaiama, the launch called the "Creek Mail" either knowingly or accidentally broke a canoe when her deckhands were discharging coal. One of the inhabitants who saw the incident, sent for the owner who arrived immediately to see the sinking canoe. The owner of the canoe demanded compensation; the "Creek Mail" personnel dismissed the demand with no apologies. This aroused a quarrel and a few minutes later I emerged from behind the crowd.

I found out what was happening and thereafter inspected the scene of the accident. I called for both parties to clear the matter but the particular deckhand who caused the damage did not even want to appear. He was more interested in dressing up to awooing in the town, the inhabitants of whom he had clearly wronged. I contacted the skipper of the boat who, instead of helping to improve matters, backed his subordinate by calling the villagers bush people and that the owner of the canoe had no right to leave his canoe there. He further flooded me with a barrage of laws from his dilapidated Marine Codes. For all I knew, there was no fixed wharf or harbour for landing in Kaiama or in any other River town. The villagers were never fore-warned as to the place of landing of these launches, and at the sight of any launch, villagers were compelled to help to clear a likely place of landing. So it was in this case. The so-called captain had become more and more unreasonable and even when I gave the concession that he should reprimand his subordinate while I took the question of calming the villagers up myself, he dismissed me by saying that that was not his business.

That was the last straw, I remembered I was on leave but a policeman is supposed to be on duty twenty-four hours of the day. A train of charges assembled in my head. What would it be? Malicious damage; conduct likely to cause a breach of the peace; dangerous act? Which? It did not matter; any of these would do in the interim. The situation had become so tense that he deckhand could not leave for the shore anymore. I advanced to him, presented my identity card, and charged him with malicious damage in the name of the Queen and that he was not obliged to say anything but that whatever he said would be taken down in writing and given in evidence. This ceremony was brief, precise, and so swift that, before he knew what was happening, I had already taken him by the hand, and invited him to the Native court premises to obtain a provisional bail pending when he would appear at the Brass Police Station.

Majority of the crew came up with him and the captain, who felt he was an untouchable, would not allow such an arrest and called the crew aboard to leave and that whatever complaints I had should be forwarded to Port Harcourt. Fine! Port-Harcourt indeed! That is what had been happening. Tyranny and oppression of the natives! That captain knew fully well that it took five days to travel from the area to Port-Harcourt, and nobody would, for the sake of a complaint at personal expense, do such a thing, but brood in silence. The charge and arrest of the captain was swifter than even that of his subordinate. An accessory after the fact. I warned him that if he moved an inch, then of course, in the lawful execution of my duty, I would ask some villagers to assist me. I watched with profound interest the thunderstruck mood of my culprits, or my clients, no, I beg your pardon, my friends. This would teach them that even seemingly naive citizens of Nigeria could enjoy their due share of fundamental human rights and protection. My style worked and fast too. The captain, after consulting with his deckhand, resolved that resistance would yield no useful results and agreed to their bail in their own cognisance. They left only to return half an hour later to plead that they had settled with the owner of the canoe. I obtained written statements to the effect from both parties. So it was that the peacock feathers of those menacing crew were cut off. I asked both parties to shake hands. Peace had been reinstated. Mutual respect would be maintained in subsequent voyages. And I was satisfied.

My leave ended and I returned to Lagos to start my career in Police Force. My first station was Okesuna Police Station where I was to understudy a senior inspector for a month before taking over. A nice start it was, and I had resumed just early enough to keep peace during the 1959 pre-independence federal elections. The elections were the most orderly conducted ones for years afterwards. Though I was not particularly interested in who won or lost, the enthusiasm of the people who identified themselves with either the National Council of Nigeria and the Cameroons; the Action Group; the Northern Peoples' Congress; SALAMA, or the Northern Elements Progressive Union; the SAWABA, did not escape my notice. I would arrive at the office only to be welcomed by complaints of molestation and calculated aggression. However, the election was peaceful and a majority of the people voted without undue pressure. There were not more than thirteen cases of impersonation int he Okesuna area. We were all given the Independence Peace Medal for this.

In January, I had taken over completely the entire running of the Police Station with a detachment strength of over a hundred and fifteen, which formed part of the three main stations in "A" Division of the Federal Territory. Under my control were also the three police posts of the then Government House, Victoria Island and the Lagos Town Council. Tedious though it was, I executed my duties to the best of my ability and earned the admiration of my superior officers. This was perhaps also because I handled greater duties than any of my colleagues did as shown in the schedule of responsibilities. I found the administration of the Government House duties most tedious. This small post had caused the ruin of many of my predecessors. Happily no incident was recorded in my period. Luckily, too, I did not stay very long there. In April, I was transfered to the Division Criminal Investigation Department. I shall not bore my reader with the day to day activities, but it will be interesting to record an extraordinary event. It happened barely two weeks after I had left Okesuna. Pity it was. It was in April. The officer who took over from me felt that much wrong had been done particularly in the field of bicycle licenses. No checking had been made since January, a duty I felt, by the Face Order, was that of the Traffic Police. However, my successor proceeded on a road block of avenues around Lewis Street and Kings College Road. Taken by surprise, many cyclists were bundled into the station. Civilians had crowded the station where illegal police courts were set up and fines illegally imposed. Consequently certain gentlemen of the press were attracted to the scene. Within twelve hours a sinister headline, with the photograph of the Inspector-General, was published, blowing up the scandal.

Another incident which I shall record in these memoirs happened when I was the Duty Officer controlling the "999" Police Patrol cars in the Lagos territory. At about 9p.m. in one of the boisterous evenings of Lagos, there was a minor peasant revolt at Jankara market. The night inhabitants, mainly paupers and undesirable, decided to revolt against living differences between them and the car owning world. Bottles, stones and other missiles were hauled into the main street from the bleak market square. The road became impassable and the control room was contacted. After directing some cars there, I arrived at the scene, personally. I decided to take the risk and quell the disturbance. A general alarm was raised at the barracks, but before the arrival of more hands, the situation was brought under control. I found that a boy had been speared through the right cheek. Several people were arrested and we called it a good day's job. But the day was not yet ended. On arrival at the Control. a more disastrous incident was yet to come. A vehicle, presumably a taxi, had carried a man murdered somewhere and deposited him at a dark alley near the Federal Palace Hotel. On close examination of the body, we found that some essential organs had been removed. Later, from fingerprint reports, it was found that the victim had twelve previous convictions. This was the second of such suspected ritual murders within the four months of my resumption of duty. Nigeria was at her peak of ritual crimes, I thought.

However, these exciting activities were not to last long, for there was a sudden turn of fate. My career was severely threatened. What actually happened was that I needed a motorcycle. There was definitely a justifiable need since my area of supervision was large and no buses ran most of the obscure routes. I applied for an advance which was granted. The cost of the motorcycle was quite above the amount advanced, and there was a government regulation against hire purchases. I approached the agents concerned and I was assured that that was a common problem with most government workers and that it was a simple one to solve. I was to pay the advance in, then draw a cheque on the bank of origin. This cheque would be retained by their accounts department only as a purchase term. A receipt would be given to cover the whole amount. I considered the arrangement thoughtfully and accepted it especially as I would be allowed to receive the machine at once.

A friend readily gave me a leaf from his cheque book and the deal was completed. Within a few hours I was riding on a brand new scooter. Meanwhile, the accounts department had posted the cheque in its ledgers and forwarded it for cashing at the said bank. The reply from the bank was obvious. I had no account with it. While I was enjoying jolly rides, the bank, having got no explanation from the presenting clerk, went a little bit too far. Telephone started ringing and my department was contacted. On enquiry, everybody in the vehicle agency knew nothing of the affair. I found the volcano into which I had plunged myself. It was a simple case. Here was I, no account with a bank, issuing a cheque for the amount. Brief clear evidence. It did not need more than a witness to convince any judge to convict me of forgery, and attempted stealing. Of course, I did not steal it. But that was no answer to the question. Did you or did you not? That would be all. However, torn between panic and frustration, I left the affair to hard luck to take control.

As if trouble was not done with me yet, I had another crisis. While in charge of duties at the Lagos Assizes, a desperado on a charge of child stealing decided to hammer in the final nail into the coffin of my staggering career. Some press photographers attempted to take photographs of certain accused persons including this desperado of six previous convictions. In their protest there arose a feud. When the matter was referred to me and I tried to settle it by asking the pressmen to oblige me with a withdrawal, this desperado rushed at me with a broken bottle and I warded off the attack with a batten blow which tore his head, With the help of another constable, he was taken to the hospital. He had nine stitches on his scalp and was heavily bandaged.

The police authorities could no longer cope with me. I was unbearable! Here was the unholy son-of-a-bitch whose issue of a fraudulent cheque they were investigating very thoroughly, and within a couple of days, a case of violence and attempted murder. A swift orderly room case was ordered. What would you expect? It was a case of regulars versus the impetuous cadets. Everything was heaped on me and a severe reprimand was awarded. Those in the disciplined forces know what this award means. In terms of cash, it is nothing but in terms of progress it is everything. This was the end of all my efforts. The Diploma which I had obtained in Police Duties and Criminology was now a waste paper and misdirected effort.

However, the Police felt that my lamentations were no more than those of Jeremiah. I was summoned to the headquarters and given a warning paper on the said accumulated misconducts, and that privilege was given because the Police appreciated my previous excellent conduct.

From then on I added to my personal resolutions the Jewish motto of "Trust nobody."

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