Kibera Court No. 2
Normally, I would bribe a traffic policeman, but very occasionally it feels good to hit back against the system. ‘Go ahead. Book me,’ I said. The copper, a huge creature with rolls of fat around his neck and piggy eyes, sighed as if to say, ‘You poor dope.’ ‘OK, I’m taking you in.’ All because I wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. At the station, the officer demanded a large sum in cash bail. His curious mates turned up to see what other crimes they could nail me for. ‘Your name is JOHN HOLAG.’ ‘No, it isn’t.’ They took a book down from shelves piled with dusty ledgers and slowly flipped through the pages. ‘Ah, yes. You have mutilated your driving licence.’ ‘No, I haven’t.’ ‘Shut up, Mr John Holag. You will appear in court on Monday to answer these serious charges. Skip bail and we will come after you.
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