Strange Friday

STRANGE FRIDAY

     “Bros,” Chris called. “Good day ooh!” he greeted elatedly.

     “Good day, my brother.” Akpan replied in his police uniform.

     “How was work today?” Chris enquired.

      Both men whom were closest neighbours in the city of Uyo, Akwa-Ibom State, Nigeria just returned from their respective places of work. They were speaking respectively from their apartments situated very close to each other in the same compound as they were about to hop in.

      “My brother,” the 43-year-old Mr. Akpan Okon said. “This our suffer-suffer work sef.” He lamented amid false pretence.

      “Suffer-suffer work?” verified Mr. Chris who seems to be in his late 40s. “No be you dey build duplex so?” He spoke in Pidgin English, trying to differ from him that his police job was a ‘suffer-suffer work’ as he asserted.

       Mr. Okon, a father of four, was reckoned to be a successful police officer. Though he was ostensibly of a low cadre, he could boast of the prime needs of a man of his age. He alongside his family lived in a 3-bedroom flat, and was at the moment erecting a residential duplex in the same city (Uyo) having already built a befitting bungalow in his hometown – equally in Akwa Ibom. No one, not even any of his intimate friends, truly knew the secret behind his excess income. Since it was apparent that an average Nigerian police personnel of his rank could hardly boast of two-square meal on a daily basis, let alone a befitting place of residence, people far and near were very much convinced that he wasn’t depending only on his supposed basic salaries and allowances.

      Although everyone was informed that ever since Mr. Okon purportedly joined the Police Force, he had never worked or been posted elsewhere except on the road – mainly the highway – where he and his teammates invariably focused majorly on collection of gratification, but they (everyone) were still of the view that such earning wasn’t enough to cater for those cost-intensive assets owned by the latter (Akpan).

      “My brother, if I tell you what I pass through every day to ensure that I build that duplex,” Mr. Akpan Okon responded. “You will pity me.”

     “What you pass through?” quoth Chris – the father of five. “Is it not just to stand on the road?”

     “Just to stand on the road?” Akpan echoed. “You call it just?” He added, paused. “Chris, you won’t understand.”

     “Well,” quoth Chris. “Whatever stress that is involved, I wish I am in your shoes.”

     “Are you serious?”

     “Yes nah,” Chris reiterated. “Take a look at me; I worth no penny.” He asserted emphatically, paused. “This my trade, how much is it giving me?”

     “So, you prefer police work?”

     “Yes nah,” answered Chris. “So far money is flowing.”

     “Okay ooh…” exclaimed Akpan. “But I will advise, you shouldn’t ever wish to be a policeman.” He warned, paused. “The job is for hungry men.”

      “For hungry men..?” Mr. Chris inquired, surprised. “And, you are getting richer every day?”

       Mr. Akpan smiled, kept quiet.

     “Look at me,” Chris rode on. “I can’t even pay my house rent talk less of taking care of my family.

      “My brother, leave mata for Matthias.” Akpan enjoined in vernacular. “I am very tired.” He added, opened his door.

      “Well, to be continued.” concurred Chris, kept his own entrance open and hopped in.

       Mr. Akpan followed suit, seemed really exhausted as claimed.

                      * * * * * *

      “Hold it there!” Bassey – a member of an armed 4-man police team, which Akpan was the leader, just stopped a moving Range-Over Jeep on an expressway at about 4.20pm on Friday.

     Bassey was with Akpan at one side of the road, though they were separated by a reasonable distance while the other two were at the other side.

     The vehicle’s driver who was carrying his boss in the car had earlier attempted to ignore a signal from Bassey ordering him to apply his brakes based on the fact that his boss whom was a prominent business tycoon was already late to a crucial board-meeting he was headed for. But he was left with no choice when Bassey pointed his gun at one of the jeep’s front tyres.

      “Officer, we are already late to a meeting.” The young driver informed as he parked by the roadside.

     “So,” Bassey said. “Because you are late, you wanted to disobey the law?” he replied, hurriedly looked into the car and saw the boss who was seated at the owner’s side. “Good day, sir.” He greeted.

     “Good day, my dear.” replied the boss – Chief Ude, who appeared to be in his mid 50s, in a bass tone. “Please, we are late.” He reiterated.

     The stubborn Bassey overlooked the plea and urged the driver to park very well.

     The driver complied.

      In the process, Mr. Akpan who stood about two metres away walked closer to the scene to observe the scenario which seemed dramatic.

     “Can I see your papers?” Bassey urged the driver.

      This time, he was standing alongside his leader, Akpan.

      The driver quickly brought out the papers as requested, though seemed very worried over the time being wasted.

       Bassey who was well dressed in his police uniform, likewise his colleagues, was taking his time to peruse the papers towards ascertaining at least a single fault, but all to no avail. He insisted, thus continued going through the papers painstakingly for the umpteenth time.

      Chief Ude, who wasn’t willing to offer them any gratification, got irritated; hence, picked up his cell phone and dialed the number of the state’s Commissioner for Police (CP) unknowingly to Bassey and Akpan.

       Just a few minutes after the information was sent across to the police CP, a squad of seven able-bodied security personnel from the Department of State Services (DSS), dressed in mufti, arrived at the arena in a civilian patrol vehicle. Before Akpan and his men could realize what was happening, they had already surrounded them. They immediately freed Chief Ude and therein tried to ascertain the division Akpan’s team came from, only to discover that the men in question were nothing but a set of fraudsters who had been operating in disguise.

     The fascinating, perhaps bitter truth was that Akpan was never a policeman, and was never recruited at any time in the Police Force. Owing to joblessness and desperation, he founded the unscrupulous and illicit police team just to extort money from commuters on a daily basis. The worst of all remained that, they weren’t only indulging in collection of gratification; sometimes, they would embark on other criminal adventures, still under police guise, thereby extorting money from their preys. They had successfully operated the syndicate for over two years until that fateful day that could best be described as ‘strange Friday’ when luck thought it wise to turn its back on them.

       Interestingly, one of the members of the fraudulent team happened to be Chris, the neighbour to Mr. Akpan; the latter integrated him into the syndicate after he severally pleaded with him to help him secure a job in the Police Force having decided to abandon his trade. His first outing with the gang ushered in the bad luck.      

      “Guilty or not guilty?” the clerk enquired from the syndicate whom was sued two weeks after the incident with a 5-count charge bordering on unpatriotic indulgence, conspiracy, sabotage, robbery, as well as illegal possession of weapons and police uniforms.

       “Guilty!” the leader – Mr. Akpan Okon testified on behalf of the gang.

       “You have, therefore, been convicted of the charge levelled against you, …” the jury pronounced. “You are hereby sentenced to 35-year imprisonment.” He succinctly landed having made other consequential announcements.

      “Court..!” the clerk exclaimed with alacrity as the panel of Judges took a bow amid the intense uproar that emanated from the verdict.

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