Patrol meets thieving lovers

Thu, 20 Apr 2017 12:40:04 +0000

For example, I would consider it an exciting night if, for example, we confronted a gang of criminals trying to break into a house, or if our patrol team was called in to stop a drunken brawl at a party taking place within our area of operation.AKING part in neighbourhood watch patrols could be quite exciting at times. Of course, as a journalist, nothing could be considered exciting during a patrol unless there was some drama in it.

During the ten years I served as secretary of the Northmead Neighbourhood Watch Association (1990-2000), I took part in a number of motorized night patrols involving some of our members and some armed paramilitary police officers.

Usually, each patrol team consisted of two residents of our area and two armed policemen. Vehicles we used were donated by members living within Northmead.

There had been a combination of both exciting and boring patrols – boring in the sense that the nights in question were so peaceful you wouldn’t think there were any criminals in this world!

The boring nights were those when we would drive from one end of the township to the other, patrolling each and every street at least three or four times, and we would not come across a single criminal. The only people we would perhaps come across, if any, were those returning home from various nightspots in the city.

It was during one of such patrols when we stumbled upon an interesting incident. Initially, it appeared as though we were in for another boring, incident-free night. We patrolled every corner of our area but we wouldn’t come across any suspicious-looking characters to brighten up the night for us.

In fact, the whole of Lusaka appeared to be in a coma that night – so peaceful. We had a communication radio with us, so as we patrolled our area, we were able to hear what was going on in other parts of the city as other patrol teams on duty that night were also reporting that everything seemed peaceful in their areas.

Just when we were beginning to get bored for lack of finding something to excite us, we saw a tall and hefty-looking man walking alone on one of the streets we had just passed. The time was then about 02:15 hours. We reversed our car and went to confront him.

I noticed that the lone night prowler had a clean shaven head and put on what appeared to be a greyish T-shirt. He looked a toughie all right.

We introduced ourselves and asked the giant who he was and where he was going at such an odd hour of the night. He replied that he was also a resident of Northmead and was then proceeding to his home.

“But you are supposed to be in bed now,” said one of the armed paramilitary policemen accompanying us on patrol that night. “You are the people who terrorise residents in this area by breaking into their homes.”

The giant swore that he was an innocent man and pointed at a nearby house as being his home. “You have found me here now because I am crying over my money,” he said. “A certain girl has just robbed me out of K16, 000  and I don’t know what I am going to do because that was the only money I had for food at home.”

“Wow!” I exclaimed. “Robbed of K16,000? How did it happen?” I obviously failed to understand how any girl could have had the guts to rob such a giant of a man.

As if reading my mind the man, who said he was popularly known as “Uncle Joe” among friends and drink mates, explained that he had actually been duped out of his money by the girl and that she must have done so with the connivance of a taxi driver he had hired.

The mention of a taxi driver and his conniving with the girl to dupe him out of the money didn’t seem to make sense to us, so we asked him what he was talking about.

“Well, it was like this,” he began.

According to him, he had gone to drink at a popular nightspot in a nearby shanty compound. While there, he met this cute young chic whom he proposed love to and she agreed to spend the night with him at his house.

“Meanwhile, we chatted and drank. I then realized that I had a lot of money on me and if I kept it with me, I might squander it. So I produced K16, 000 and gave it to this chic of mine so that she could keep it for me.

“She got the money and hid it in her bra, after which we continued drinking and chatting. As the time approached 02:00 hours, I told my girl it was time to go. I then hired one of the pirate taxis parked outside the bar.

“The taxi driver charged me K2,500 for the trip and I paid him on my arrival at home. Soon after the taxi-driver had dropped us, and we were about to enter my yard, which has a grass fence, my girl said she wanted to answer nature’s call.

“Not suspecting anything, I allowed her to go ahead. By then, I was already inside the fence while she was outside. I just stood there waiting for her.

“I am sure you know, officers, that the job of passing urine is not something that can take long. But in the case of my girl, I thought she was taking too long. Some minutes passed and yet there was no sign of her.

“Wondering what was going on, I went to check for her. Imagine my shock when I discovered that she was nowhere to be seen! She had disappeared. But then, I had no idea where she could have gone and that is what worried me. What if somebody killed her? So I started looking for her.

“Then, all of a sudden, I saw the very taxi I had hired driving off. The sight of the taxi in the area immediately after the disappearance of the girl naturally made me suspicious.”

“Why did you get suspicious?” I asked, obviously enjoying the story.

“I have a strong suspicion that there is some link between the girl and the taxi driver. If I were to go to the nightclub now, I have no doubt I would find the taxi driver there because that’s where he operates from at night,” the man replied.

The victim being a resident of our area, we decided to lend him a hand by taking him to the nightspot in question in the hope that he might recover his money. The time was then running to 03:00 hours.

And as the man directed us to the night spot where the alleged offence was committed, he kept telling us: “I hope that taxi driver is not involved in this because I don’t know what I will do to him.”

“You mean you are going to bash him to a pulp, er?” I asked jokingly.

“I don’t know what I will do to him because stealing K16, 000 from somebody at this time of the month is not a joking matter,” he replied. “As of now, I have no money. I am completely broke.”

On arrival at the nightclub, we found a chain of pirate taxis parked outside. We slowed down to enable the giant to identify any of the vehicles parked there. And as luck would have it, he identified one parked at the far end of the line.

In order to prevent any possible escape, we parked our car just behind the targeted vehicle, effectively blocking it.

The two armed paramilitary police officers in our patrol team then jumped out of our car, owned by a resident of our area who was also driving it, and surrounded the pirate taxi.

When the complainant peeped in through the window of the taxi, he could not believe his eyes; for seated there was the same girl he had hooked for the night and she was then enveloped in the amorous arms of the taxi driver who was busy kissing and caressing her!

“What do you people think you are doing, er?” the giant shouted angrily. “How can you dupe me like a child?”

It was apparent that the couple inside the taxi were completely taken by surprise; for when they looked around to find themselves face to face with the complainant in the company of armed paramilitary police officers, they seemed at a total loss as to how to react to the situation.

“Where is my money, you idiots?”  the giant asked, seething with rage.

The embarrassed and trembling call-girl came out of the taxi crying that it was all the taxi driver’s fault.

”I told him it wasn’t right but he insisted that I come back here with him,” she sobbed.

Meanwhile, the taxi-driver remained in his car, speechless.

At this juncture, the giant thanked us for the assistance and said we could leave. “I will deal with these chaps,” he said. “Don’t worry about me. I am quite safe.”

And as we drove back to our station, I could not help feeling sorry for the girl and her taxi-driver lover…..

The author is a Lusaka-based media consultant who also worked in the Foreign Service as a diplomat in South Africa and Botswana. For comments, sms 0977425827/0967146485 or email: pchirwa2009@yahoo.com