• Home
• Columnist
• Videos
• Artist
  • Musicians
  • Actors
  • Comedians
• Notable Nigerians
• Legend Dies
• Articles
  • Nigeria Articles
• Photos
• Submit Article

Author: By Mike Awoyinfa
Posted to the web: 6/11/2005 6:20:04 AM

On a two-day visit to Abuja to attend a seminar where columnists shared their ideas on column writing, I seized the opportunity to visit Sunday Gabriel Ehindero.
My mission: to meet the new Inspector-General of Police for the first time, to size him up, to explore his mind and then do a column. This column. An insider had hinted me the man was traveling to Kano that morning, but he could spare a little time to talk with me. A police car had even been sent to carry me from my hotel to the Force Headquarters otherwise called Louis Edet House. The whole place was abuzz with police presence and activities. The place reminded me of my visit last year to Pentagon in Washington D.C., except that Pentagon is massive and complex. The policeman piloting me to the I.G. was frisked and his pistol taken from him temporarily for security reasons. Inside the crowded lift taking us up, the machine simply refuses to elevate. Overcrowding. One person has to get out before this space ship can lift itself up. And who would get out? Who would sacrifice himself for the rest of us to move up to higher grounds? The man sacrificed at last was the lowest rank cop taking me to meet the new I.G. In the hierarchy of the police, a lower rank officer out of respect must get down for a higher rank. A corporal must go down for a sergeant. And a sergeant must go down for an inspector. Being a rank and file man, my escort had to be sacrificed. I found myself protesting this unfair ejection, this demotion of a man who was leading me to the big man upstairs. “Ah, but he is the man taking me to the I.G.,” I protested. But all my protests fell on deaf ears. My man had to be sacrificed for the sins of modernity. In this sinful world, somebody has to be sacrificed for others to live. Our Lord Jesus Christ sacrificed his life many years ago for us sinners to attain eternal salvation. Out of the elevator, I was shocked by the sight of policemen crowding everywhere. A sea of policemen. I have never seen such a large collection of policemen and women under one roof.
One of my favourite poets, wrote: “water, water, everywhere.” Here it is a case of police, police, everywhere. Police on every floor, in every room. Policemen policing no one but themselves. Mobile police. Ordinary police. Lower rank. Senior officer. Tall, huge and pot-bellied. I saw them all smartly dressed in the darkness of their uniforms. In my quiet moment, I said a prayer: May God help the pickpocket or the armed robber who would be stupid enough to come and ply his trade here at this temple, this cathedral of policing. Here it was where the Great Tafa Balogun once held sway and was the lord of all he surveyed. Until he was thrown out like Lucifer from this police heaven. Now, I was going to meet his successor. I was going to meet the man whose beatific, triumphant smile hit the front pages of newspapers soon after his elevation was announced. I was going to ask him why he had to smile the way he smiled on that glorious day of his ascension. I was going to ask him if he would steal or corruptly enrich himself now that he has reached the mountaintop. After some awkward moments of waiting, the new I.G. finally came out of his office surrounded by a cohort of policemen. He was going out oblivious of my presence. B ut the police image-maker, Emma Ighodaro dramatically rushed me to meet him at the speed of a Lagosian running to catch a moving Molue. We eventually caught up with him. I was panting. After being introduced as the MD of The Sun, he stretched out his hand to shake me. As I stretched my hand to greet him, something unusual happened. I suddenly found myself involved in a drama. Naturally, I hardly get angry, but this morning I was angry. And I made the I.G. to know I was angry. I complained that I had been kept waiting for too long. Not only that I had been shabbily treated by an overzealous policeman who would not even allow me to sit in the I.G.’s waiting room. He commanded me to go and sit outside. “You cannot sit here, my friend,” he said rudely. I complained angrily to the I.G. that I wasn’t used to such shabby treatment. As he noticed my anger, Ehindero tried to cool my temper. “Please, don’t be annoyed, my brother. Cool down, cool down. Take him to my office. I would soon be with you.” My display of anger would surprise a lot of people who know me as a man who never gets angry. But there I was blowing hot before the most powerful policeman in Nigeria. A nd here he was pouring ice water on my heated temper. Like the masked singer Lagbaja, he was telling me to “Cooloo temper.” My first impression of Ehindero is that of a humble, patient man who gets angry only because as a policeman he has to. On the phone, I was hearing him saying, “yes sir, yes sir” so many times to a higher authority whom I suspect is a voice from Aso Rock. Yes, I think Ehindero is a nice man. Or he tries to be nice. His office is decorated with billboard-size greeting cards all standing like skyscrapers everywhere in his office.My first question was on the congratulatory cards. How does he feel being so congratulated with this avalanche of giant greeting cards?“I didn’t know I had so much goodwill with the people,” he tells me. “The wordings of the card have been very encouraging. And my hope is rekindled. “It gives me an added enthusiasm to be able to perform. Judging from the accolades, judging from the way they received me, I think it has been one of joy and one of high expectation from me too. I am aware about this expectation. It’s a challenge and I hope to cope with.” I asked him how come he was smiling so triumphantly the day he was promoted I.G. Sir, how would you explain the broad smile on your face as carried in the papers? “Honestly, it just came spontaneously. I just came, saw the crowd and I had to wave to them. Because the whole complex were pouring accolades on me.” I asked him: Will you steal? Will you be corrupt? I asked questions that naturally should anger him but he took it as cool as cucumber, quoting profusely from the Bible. Watch out for his answers another time. Catch ya!