Life at the limit part 2

One thing you should never do in Cameroon is going out without your papers. Good thing, I never do.

Except, of course, that one time.

It was Saturday night. I just enjoyed a nice dinner with lovely friends when I grabbed a cab to head home after a long day. A little annoyed because the driver would not settle for less than his price I got in, a little glad not having to wander the streets looking for cabs. Only a couple of minutes down the road, a police officer stopped us. He checked the car papers, all good. He asked for ID. No worries I thought at first. But then I realized I had not put my ID in my purse for the night. Immediately my heart started pounding. I told him I didn’t have it.

“Descendez” he said coldly. I told him as politely as I could who I was and what I was doing there and that it was simply human mistake to forget something. I knew he wouldn’t understand. I also knew what he wanted from me. He said the only thing I can do is have someone come with my ID or spend the night in his office in a cell. Playing along with his charade, I told him there was no one home to come now. And I told him I am not spending the night in a cell. “What can we do?” was the question he was waiting for. “What we can do” he said slowly and completely absolutely enjoying his dirty power “is that you can fill up my truck with petrol” Playing tough, I told him I don’t have any money. We drank it all away.

“Okay, then get in the truck, we are leaving” I waved a 2000 Franc bill in his face. He laughed out loud. “How will I put gas in for that?”

We argued in a Cameroonaise manner. But nothing helped. I had to get in the truck. Hoping, praying, but not really knowing it was mind games I thought, he can’t just keep me the whole night. He has to call the German Embassy. But tell that to a Cameroonaise. He snorted in my face. Facing a night in a cell, in Cameroon, (I have never been arrested before) I finally I pulled out my reserve of 10 000 Francs.

“30 000” he said. Now I really was thrown off guard. I know he just demanded this because I was “La Blanche” I know he only stopped us because of this. And I knew he could never expect locals to have so much money. But I just really did not have that kind of money. Starting to cope a little with the idea of spending the night in jail, I thought this can’t be it. He only has trouble with me in his cell and better little money than no money at all. I showed him my empty wallet. Nothing. What a toughie. I got really mad. How can a man of law enforcement be so corrupt? No wonder there so many things not working right in the system. This idea just won’t settle in my head. A police officer who openly wants to be bribed. I know this is a European way of thinking. But I could not help it. And how he glowed of joy in his dirty power.

Finally he came back. “Give!” he said. So I gave him my 12000 Francs I had left. I thought- of course- who is clever enough to bribe, also is clever enough to take what he can instead of having actual work with the dumb little girl.

I was never so happy to leave a car.

On the way home mad turned into sad. How sad it is that law enforcement is like that in Cameroon. The officer I just a gearwheel in a corrupt system. He “can’t” help it. To live in a country where the police is not really to be trusted is hard to grasp for me.

To top off the night I couldn’t find a taxi. So I broke one of my sacred laws not to take a motorcycle taxi. No helmet, driving like crazy, and no traffic rules. I died a thousand deaths- multiple times almost being thrown off because of holes in the street.

And again. I was never so happy to get off and go home. Finally. Life at the limit, I’d say.