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by Geoff Wijesinghe

The police service perhaps more known for its corruption and political patronage, has also its lighter side.

Many are the humorous tales of policemen, many of them true. A senior officer, who is very much in the news these days, still causes a laugh at the police mess, although the incident happened several years ago.

This officer, who, at the time, was an ASP in charge of a provincial area, had heard credible reports that the officer-in-charge of a small police station in a village area, was drinking heavily on a round-the-clock basis, and playing ducks and drakes with all and sundry.

The ASP, who had a reputation for pomposity, decided that by hook or by crook, he would nab his errant subordinate. So, one sunny afternoon, just before the lunch hour, he visited the station and to his great delight, he found the SI drunk as a kite.

His inebriation, undoubtedly, made him feel more like a DIG than an SI.

The ASP, like a tiger pouncing on his prey, had the errant officer hauled up to the OIC's room and given a thundering shelling. But, this did not end there, for before he left the police station, the ASP made an entry in the log book that he visited the police station and "found the officer-in-charge hardly drinking."

What he actually meant was what we say in Sinhala "Hondatama beela" or in English fully drunk.

The matter was reported to the Divisional Headquarters and an inquiry held. However, going by the ASP's comments in the log book, the inquiring officer, took the remark as a compliment. So, the SI got off scot-free.

A few years ago, a reserve police constable, who was prone to taking a good shot or two and lived in a suburb west of Colombo, thoroughly neglecting his wife and child, and who had earlier been introduced to me, came up to my office in full uniform, saluted me if I was the IGP, and after a few cursory remarks about the difficult life he was leading, confessed that as a traffic cop at Kollupitiya Police, he had flagged down a private bus just a few yards from the station and demanded a bribe of 100 rupees from the driver for some concocted offence.

Being a bright spark, he had concealed the note inside a sock. Unfortunately for him, the OIC had been taking in the view from the balcony and was witness to the incident. He promptly had a couple of constable bring back the bus and questioned the driver, who insisted that he had given a bribe.

As much as he kept on persisting with his complaint, the culprit of a cop kept on denying it, pleading total innocence. The OIC, being an experienced cop, did not believe the denial. He ordered the bribe taker to pull out his shoes and show the insides of his socks. And, there and behold, was the 100 rupee note. This constable, who was no in deep trouble, had the temeracity to plead with me to speak to his superiors and save his job. I was so angry that I kicked him out of my office.

Then, there was my good friend, a policeman at the Mt. Lavinia Police who had been transferred to Kegalle. One night, on my way to Kandy, I dropped in on him. His IP with whom my relations were not very good, as I had written that he had been remanded in a boy murder case, saw me, but my friend didn't give two hoots to the black looks of his senior.

He took me to a pub close to the station, and we had a chat and a beer . A man of great humour, during the conversation, he described how he would go one mile away from the police checkpoint, stop lorry loads of illicit cattle being transported to Colombo for slaughter, and collect bribes.

This had gone on for some time and when the lorries were stopped by the inspector by the station, the drivers had told him that they had already paid the bribes to another policeman.

Obviously, no charge could be made against my friend, but he had to stop the practice. To add to it all, he told me, "I'm not afraid of anyone sir. I will speak the truth."

He was serving in an eastern provincial station, when the LTTE nearly got hold of him. He escaped to Colombo, paid 150,000 rupees to a retired police sergeant who was trafficking in illegal immigrants between Colombo and Canada, and finally landed in a tiny room in Bangkok, sans his passports and the 500 dollars he was carrying.

One day, he came and quite excitedly told me that the illegal trafficker had returned to Colombo to take another batch to Canada, and was living in the sergeants' quarters in a police station in Colombo. I informed the superior officer and had this man nabbed and jailed.

This gentleman, who works for a security firm, found a package containing 10,000 dollars on the counter of the office of a diplomatic mission he now works for. Straight as a pike staff in such matters, he handed over the package to the authorities. Of course, he was not rewarded one cent by the person who had left the parcel on the counter.

But, the security agency he works for has rewarded him with a promotion and merit increment.

I was around 19 years when on a special school day on Saturday, when school closed early, I was given a lift by a Royalist friend of mine. We changed seats, and I drove his Bug Peugeot. When we were passing the bus stand at Bambalapitiya, when an elderly man, clad in coat and cloth and sporting a "konde" which was a rare sight those days, walked straight on to the left side of the car. The man fell. We were in a quandary, as I had no licence. I reversed the car a few yards and my friend and I hurriedly changed seats.

About one hour later, a sergeant who handled the matter came to my home and said the man I knocked down is "kattering". What he meant was vomitting, and demanded 50 rupees to settle the matter.

I prevailed upon my aunt to hand over the 50 bucks and nothing more was heard about the problem.

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