Do you want to spite someone you hate? Just call the Drugs and Narcotics Squad and they will rush out without even thinking.
This happened to me last week Friday and I put a diary together to share my experience, after all, a journalist is an eyewitness.
0600 hours: I wake up to a loud knock on my door. Still sleepy and rubbing sleep off my eyes, I head for the door only to realize that I have nothing on but shorts. I head back to the bedroom for my vest and then off to open the door but I realize that I have left the key.
Finally, still feeling sleepy and key in hand but somehow feeling ready I open the door and realize that the man I had spotted through the kitchen window is not alone. Two other men and a woman spotting a UB t-shirt and cap are with him. All but one, look like they have been to a sponsored walk.
The man closest to the door starts pushing his way in and in the process he introduces himself and his cronies as cops. To me they look more like robbers and I demand to see their ID’s while at the same time trying in vain to block the door with my left leg.
After inspecting the ID, I let them in. “We have come to get you for drug dealing,” one of them barks.
“What!” I exclaim.
“Who are you sleeping with?” he asks heading further into the flat.
“No one,” I reply and he commands me to open doors in a no nonsense tone and I oblige.
After they have checked all the rooms he commands me to get dressed. I get dressed and he commands me to “let’s go”. “Can I at least brush my teeth?” I beg him and he impatiently says there is no time for that. After reasoning with him he lets me go ahead.
0610: We head downstairs to their unmarked vehicles and we leave with me sandwiched between the woman and the ringleader. You can almost cut through the silence with a knife as we drive off. When we pass the Game City circle I am getting worried and I ask where we are headed. “To the station,” the ringleader retorts.
After hearing a lot of stories about police brutality I am worried that maybe these guys are driving to a nearby bush to beat me senseless until I confess to a crime I did not commit just to save myself and I ask; “Is there a police station this side of town?”
“Yes.”
I get a sense of relief when we drive into the building opposite department of transport, which also houses the department of wildlife offices. We go around the back and at this time of the morning the building is deserted and my imagination goes into overdrive.
I am led into a large untidy conference room marked ‘Lecture Room’ and I wonder if they want to finish with me before the students come. “Wait here,” the smaller male cop who also happens to be most smartly dressed of the four commands before adding; “Don’t do any crazy stuff like undress yourself because we will be watching you the whole time.” They head off leaving with a stale Daily News.
The lecture room is in a sorry state like no students or cleaner have been in there for ages. There is a large oval desk with typical government chairs around it. There are so many chair placed haphazardly it looks like a room where unwanted chairs are dumped. The only company I have for a while is the irritating tiny flies that occasionally go into my nostrils and ears.
After what seems like a spell they are back with notebooks and diaries. This time the female cop is not with them. After asking basic information like who I am and where I live as well as come from They ask me; “Who was that person you met yesterday who was wearing a red t-shirt? What were you wearing yesterday and where did you go, who did you meet?”
I tell them I did not meet anyone wearing a red t-shirt and then tell them everything I did yesterday and whom I met.
They tell me that they have information that I am linked to a drug cartel and my flat is the place where drugs like cocaine, heroine, marijuana etc and money exchange hands. To this I say; “You guys have the wrong guy. You are way off the mark.”
“Why do you say we have the wrong guy?” asks the smart cop. “Because I am not a drug dealer and you’ve got me,” I respond.
After a few more minutes of grilling they leave again. I am hopeful that they will come and release me or take me home for a search, but a few moments later I am called to an office marked ‘Officer Commanding Drugs’.
These guys are high are high on something, I think to myself. The ringleader is sitting behind the desk and I guess he must be the officer commanding drugs. “How do you know Base?” he enquires. I think for a moment and realize that the only Base I know is DJ Base in Francistown and I have not had contact with him for years and I tell them this.
I first met DJ Base many years ago at a talent search organized by Francistown News and Reviews and my distant cousin Tony T when I was still a budding reporter for this newspaper. The report I compiled happened to be the first limelight for now disbanded Lords of The Ghetto.
Since then I have often met him on the streets and said hi and he would say hi back or be at a gig where he would be the DJ, but for him and me to be linked in a way these guys are suggesting only means they are ‘high and floating in the sky’.
It must be two hours or more since I have been under custody and I am craving for a drag and getting very impatient. You see, I haven’t had a chance to smoke since I woke up this morning and normally I would be smoking my second. “Please sir, I would like to have a smoke,” I beg the ringleader.
“You can’t smoke here. None of us smokes,”
“I want to go and buy outside.”
“You can’t. We are not done with you yet, besides the vendors are not yet here. Just go back to that room and wait for us and don’t move.”
My hopes rise when a sizeable woman comes in and asks me if I know Leonard(my ex-cop brother) and the late Mr. Mokoka who was a head teacher, but she leaves me there and disappears around the corridor.
Finally I get a chance for a smoke when I send a security lady at the entrance to get me a couple of cigarettes.
After dealing with the cravings, I am sent to another conference room where I discover that I am not the only suspect. There is a woman with a baby and I later learn that she is Base’s girlfriend. She is with three other ladies and two guys.
Apparently the cops have detained her and everyone who was in the house with her at the time so they could use her to bargain with Base. If Base, who is reportedly three hours away, arrives, they would release her and her friends.
The other gentleman had become unlucky because he was found at Base’s house. They say they have all been here since the wee hours of the morning.
Among them are two students who are waiting for a cab to take them to school.
0900 Base is still said to be three hours away, and I ask if the hours do not reduce as time passes.
1000 Base has reportedly had a break down somewhere between Selebi Phikwe and Palapye, but the main cops handling the case have gone home to refresh and there is nothing anybody can do until they come back. Moments later, however, the ball starts rolling again. From what Base’s girlfriend is communicating to her man I pick up that he is now waiting for Maunatlala cops to pick him up.
Maunatlala cops apparently have only one vehicle and it has left the office and arrangements will be made once it comes back.
After lengthy negotiations I am allowed to walk to Game City to organize something to eat, but I am warned not to try to escape because if I do they might have to break my legs.
1100 Still waiting for Base.
1200 While outside smoking another cigarette I ask one cop who has escorted me how I am linked to Base and he refuses to tell me. I then ask him if they can’t go to my house and search me since if I am a dealer I would have drugs in my house and he assures me they will look into it.
1330 Finally Maunatlala cops have managed to get to Base and his girlfriend together with all who were found at her house are released.
1345 I am called to the Officer Commanding Drugs’ office where I am told that they have come to the conclusion that what I told them is true and therefore they are letting me go. The officer in charge of drugs tells me that he knows me and starts telling me who he is. He says he is Kenosi Tsayanang from Marapong.
1400 I leave their office frustrated and thinking about how much money I might have made had they not wasted my day. I am also angry that they did not even apologise for their mistake or give me a ride back home where they found me, or tell me how they linked me to this drug cartel they said I was part of. Instead they just told me as a journalist I should know that they have to protect their sources.
This happened to me last week Friday and I put a diary together to share my experience, after all, a journalist is an eyewitness.
0600 hours: I wake up to a loud knock on my door. Still sleepy and rubbing sleep off my eyes, I head for the door only to realize that I have nothing on but shorts. I head back to the bedroom for my vest and then off to open the door but I realize that I have left the key.
Finally, still feeling sleepy and key in hand but somehow feeling ready I open the door and realize that the man I had spotted through the kitchen window is not alone. Two other men and a woman spotting a UB t-shirt and cap are with him. All but one, look like they have been to a sponsored walk.
The man closest to the door starts pushing his way in and in the process he introduces himself and his cronies as cops. To me they look more like robbers and I demand to see their ID’s while at the same time trying in vain to block the door with my left leg.
After inspecting the ID, I let them in. “We have come to get you for drug dealing,” one of them barks.
“What!” I exclaim.
“Who are you sleeping with?” he asks heading further into the flat.
“No one,” I reply and he commands me to open doors in a no nonsense tone and I oblige.
After they have checked all the rooms he commands me to get dressed. I get dressed and he commands me to “let’s go”. “Can I at least brush my teeth?” I beg him and he impatiently says there is no time for that. After reasoning with him he lets me go ahead.
0610: We head downstairs to their unmarked vehicles and we leave with me sandwiched between the woman and the ringleader. You can almost cut through the silence with a knife as we drive off. When we pass the Game City circle I am getting worried and I ask where we are headed. “To the station,” the ringleader retorts.
After hearing a lot of stories about police brutality I am worried that maybe these guys are driving to a nearby bush to beat me senseless until I confess to a crime I did not commit just to save myself and I ask; “Is there a police station this side of town?”
“Yes.”
I get a sense of relief when we drive into the building opposite department of transport, which also houses the department of wildlife offices. We go around the back and at this time of the morning the building is deserted and my imagination goes into overdrive.
I am led into a large untidy conference room marked ‘Lecture Room’ and I wonder if they want to finish with me before the students come. “Wait here,” the smaller male cop who also happens to be most smartly dressed of the four commands before adding; “Don’t do any crazy stuff like undress yourself because we will be watching you the whole time.” They head off leaving with a stale Daily News.
The lecture room is in a sorry state like no students or cleaner have been in there for ages. There is a large oval desk with typical government chairs around it. There are so many chair placed haphazardly it looks like a room where unwanted chairs are dumped. The only company I have for a while is the irritating tiny flies that occasionally go into my nostrils and ears.
After what seems like a spell they are back with notebooks and diaries. This time the female cop is not with them. After asking basic information like who I am and where I live as well as come from They ask me; “Who was that person you met yesterday who was wearing a red t-shirt? What were you wearing yesterday and where did you go, who did you meet?”
I tell them I did not meet anyone wearing a red t-shirt and then tell them everything I did yesterday and whom I met.
They tell me that they have information that I am linked to a drug cartel and my flat is the place where drugs like cocaine, heroine, marijuana etc and money exchange hands. To this I say; “You guys have the wrong guy. You are way off the mark.”
“Why do you say we have the wrong guy?” asks the smart cop. “Because I am not a drug dealer and you’ve got me,” I respond.
After a few more minutes of grilling they leave again. I am hopeful that they will come and release me or take me home for a search, but a few moments later I am called to an office marked ‘Officer Commanding Drugs’.
These guys are high are high on something, I think to myself. The ringleader is sitting behind the desk and I guess he must be the officer commanding drugs. “How do you know Base?” he enquires. I think for a moment and realize that the only Base I know is DJ Base in Francistown and I have not had contact with him for years and I tell them this.
I first met DJ Base many years ago at a talent search organized by Francistown News and Reviews and my distant cousin Tony T when I was still a budding reporter for this newspaper. The report I compiled happened to be the first limelight for now disbanded Lords of The Ghetto.
Since then I have often met him on the streets and said hi and he would say hi back or be at a gig where he would be the DJ, but for him and me to be linked in a way these guys are suggesting only means they are ‘high and floating in the sky’.
It must be two hours or more since I have been under custody and I am craving for a drag and getting very impatient. You see, I haven’t had a chance to smoke since I woke up this morning and normally I would be smoking my second. “Please sir, I would like to have a smoke,” I beg the ringleader.
“You can’t smoke here. None of us smokes,”
“I want to go and buy outside.”
“You can’t. We are not done with you yet, besides the vendors are not yet here. Just go back to that room and wait for us and don’t move.”
My hopes rise when a sizeable woman comes in and asks me if I know Leonard(my ex-cop brother) and the late Mr. Mokoka who was a head teacher, but she leaves me there and disappears around the corridor.
Finally I get a chance for a smoke when I send a security lady at the entrance to get me a couple of cigarettes.
After dealing with the cravings, I am sent to another conference room where I discover that I am not the only suspect. There is a woman with a baby and I later learn that she is Base’s girlfriend. She is with three other ladies and two guys.
Apparently the cops have detained her and everyone who was in the house with her at the time so they could use her to bargain with Base. If Base, who is reportedly three hours away, arrives, they would release her and her friends.
The other gentleman had become unlucky because he was found at Base’s house. They say they have all been here since the wee hours of the morning.
Among them are two students who are waiting for a cab to take them to school.
0900 Base is still said to be three hours away, and I ask if the hours do not reduce as time passes.
1000 Base has reportedly had a break down somewhere between Selebi Phikwe and Palapye, but the main cops handling the case have gone home to refresh and there is nothing anybody can do until they come back. Moments later, however, the ball starts rolling again. From what Base’s girlfriend is communicating to her man I pick up that he is now waiting for Maunatlala cops to pick him up.
Maunatlala cops apparently have only one vehicle and it has left the office and arrangements will be made once it comes back.
After lengthy negotiations I am allowed to walk to Game City to organize something to eat, but I am warned not to try to escape because if I do they might have to break my legs.
1100 Still waiting for Base.
1200 While outside smoking another cigarette I ask one cop who has escorted me how I am linked to Base and he refuses to tell me. I then ask him if they can’t go to my house and search me since if I am a dealer I would have drugs in my house and he assures me they will look into it.
1330 Finally Maunatlala cops have managed to get to Base and his girlfriend together with all who were found at her house are released.
1345 I am called to the Officer Commanding Drugs’ office where I am told that they have come to the conclusion that what I told them is true and therefore they are letting me go. The officer in charge of drugs tells me that he knows me and starts telling me who he is. He says he is Kenosi Tsayanang from Marapong.
1400 I leave their office frustrated and thinking about how much money I might have made had they not wasted my day. I am also angry that they did not even apologise for their mistake or give me a ride back home where they found me, or tell me how they linked me to this drug cartel they said I was part of. Instead they just told me as a journalist I should know that they have to protect their sources.
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