Police corruption and a day at the beach

This weekend was the first one that my JHR colleagues stationed in Makeni, Craig and Kari, returned to Freetown since our initiation to Sierra Leone a few weeks ago. It was also my roommate Bryna's birthday. Both seemed like good reasons for another day at the beach. This time, we sampled the sights and sounds of nearby Lakka Beach and got much better weather than our first excursion out of the city.


No longer with the JHR driver at our disposal, we were left to negotiate our way to the beach on our own. The first poda-poda we talked to asked for an absurd Le80,000; our friend ABJ had already informed us that the local price was Le1500 per person, or 9000 for our six-person crew. We managed to charter a taxi for 15,000 and were satisfied with the markup of only 167%. But we'd end up paying more soon enough.

En route to the beach, an officer of the SLP (Sierra Leone Police) waved us to pull over. Minkailu, our taxi driver, slowed and started to pull to the side of the roughshod road before accelerating and continuing on his way. Liking his style, from the discomfort of my shared front passenger seat, I asked Minkailu why the officer wanted us to pull over.

"He wants money," came the straight-forward reply. Ah, yes. The first encounter with unabashed corruption. Breathe it in.

We carried on for another five minutes or so, and I made a mental note to get Minkailu's phone number for future beach trips, impressed as I was with his no-nonsense approach.

But this police officer was not so easily dissuaded. He had hopped on the back of an ocada (motorcycle taxi) to catch up with us and was now demanding Minkailu's license, which was met with vehement protest. Licenses are expensive and Minkailu was blunt in telling the officer he didn't want to give it to him because he didn't trust the officer to give it back. No lenience was awarded for this show of honesty.

We determined that the problem was allegedly the overcrowding of putting six passengers in a standard cab, a hilarious hypocrisy in a country that has a major industry built around poda-podas that literally pack 20 people into stripped down, extended minivans. This irony was apparently lost on K. Conteh, the officer in question (according to his badge).

And so, Minkailu reluctantly handed over his license on the understanding it would be returned on his way back to Freetown, and we were allowed to continue on our way.

The remainder of the trip to Lakka Beach was uneventful and we nearly doubled the agreed upon payment to help Minkailu with the bribe that he would need to provide on his return trip, a gesture that was met with a good deal of appreciation.

The beach at Lakka was, in my opinion, even nicer than the one at River No. 2, and also compared quite favourably to the five-star beach resort I stayed at in Varadero (Cuba), if only on account of its unencumbered nature on this beautiful Saturday afternoon.

Marie-Jo, Kari and I dined on mouthwatering barracuda at the Hard Rock restaurant, a moniker more literal than the Western chain of the same name, while enjoying the view from the scenic island inlet pictured below.


And as we all enjoyed the cool shade of a large tree overhanging the sunny white sand beach, taking periodic dips in the amazingly warm waters of the Atlantic, I allowed the scene before me to etch itself vividly into my mind, reflecting on the comfort of knowing that, no matter how stressful or difficult a week may be, I have the good fortune of being able to rejuvenate myself at this tropical oasis a mere half hour outside of the city.



We then topped off a wonderful day with a little poetic justice. We walked back up to the main road and had no trouble catching a poda-poda back into town. As we boarded the ramshackle vehicle, Bryna noticed that this was the same poda-poda driver that had tried to get us to pay Le80,000.

"One-five each," she half-asked, half-asserted, referring to the standard fare of 1500. Rolling his eyes slightly, he agreed and we returned home to the ubiquitous car horns and constant bustle of Freetown.