SHORT STORY: Where bribery is a way of life

Bribe.

“I can make things easy for you,” he pulled out a white envelope from within his uniform and pressed it into her still outstretched hand, “Or hard.” ILLUSTRATION | JOHN NYAGA

What you need to know:

  • “I need you to get something and bring it to me,” the captain shifted uneasily in his seat, “That drug bust the other day, I need to re-examine the evidence.”
  • “Sure Sir,” Liza was already on her feet, stretching her hand out, expecting him to hand her the form she needed to officially remove evidence from its safe-keeping, but he leaned back in his plush swivel chair and narrowed his eyes at her.
  • “This will be,” he hesitated, “Off the record,” he cleared his throat, “Now, you’ve got a long career ahead of you,” he stood up and moved round his desk to where Liza stood with her mouth hanging open, “I can make things easy for you,” he pulled out a white envelope from within his uniform and pressed it into her still outstretched hand, “Or hard.”

Liza smoothed down the front lapels of her navy blue suit and flicked an almost invisible speck of dust off her left shoulder pad, her lip held between her teeth, her eyes squinted in concentration as she studied herself in a shabby, full length mirror.

She leaned forward to see herself better in the dim lighting, then straightened up suddenly as deep racking coughs erupted from a room adjacent to the one she was in.

Liza moved quickly to a flimsy curtain that served as a door between the two rooms, sweeping it aside to reveal a tiny frail woman, lying on a cot, her brow scrunched in pain as her body jerked with the force of her coughing.

“I can cancel my shift,” Liza started tentatively, kneeling to hand her a dented metal cup that stood on a side table propped up by the cot because it was missing a leg, “I don’t have to go in mum, I can.”

“No,” her mum took the proffered cup and sipped it slowly, sighing as the freshly brewed ginger tea soothed her, “You’ve just started, don’t go asking for time off so soon,” she handed Liza the cup and leaned back onto the cot, “Now, go,” she managed a smile to allay the worried look that still lingered in Liza’s eyes, “You’ll be late.”

Liza stood up, even more unsure as she watched her mum’s smile contort her bony, line ridden face that was perpetually painted in pain. Liza’s eyes filled with tears and she looked away quickly as she noticed how she looked like a child lying on the small cot, far too thin, far too insignificant, as if she were just a whisper, the shadow of a person. But she had to go to work or they couldn’t afford the medical bills that were even now piling up, despite them being covered by a national health scheme.

“Okay mum,” she walked out as she swept the curtain back into place, “I’ll bring us something nice for dinner.”

Outside, a weak sun was rising, fighting through a thick band of purple heavy looking clouds. Liza shivered as she inhaled the cold dawn air, making her way through a maze of narrow alleyways that separated densely packed, shanty-like, roughly hewn wooden homes that housed the police force.

“Liza!” a voice called sharply to her and she spun round, a ready smile on her face, “The captain wanted to see you,” it was her friend and colleague, Andrew.

“What for?” Liza’s heart sank, she’d been on the job just two months and her insecurities still ran high.

“Don’t worry,” he winked at her, alleviating her fears. After all, Andrew had been on the force a year longer than her. Liza picked up her pace, whatever it was, she didn’t want to be late.

The captain’s office was in the administrative building, a long low stone rectangle, as unremarkable as its surroundings, on the far end of a large field where recruits were already up and training. Liza hurried across the field, taking care not to dampen the bottoms of her trouser suit with the glistening drops of dew that still clung to tall blades of grass. As she reached his door, raising her hand breathlessly to knock, it swung open and the captain beckoned her forward.

“Err, Lisa is it?” The captain was a short man, heavily built with a bristly moustache over his top lip that moved comically when he spoke, “I need you to do something for me,” he waved her into a chair as he shut the door.

“Of course Sir, I’d be happy to.”

“You know where the evidence room is, don’t you?”

“Yes Sir.”

“I need you to get something and bring it to me,” the captain shifted uneasily in his seat, “That drug bust the other day, I need to re-examine the evidence.”

“Sure Sir,” Liza was already on her feet, stretching her hand out, expecting him to hand her the form she needed to officially remove evidence from its safe-keeping, but he leaned back in his plush swivel chair and narrowed his eyes at her.

“This will be,” he hesitated, “Off the record,” he cleared his throat, “Now, you’ve got a long career ahead of you,” he stood up and moved round his desk to where Liza stood with her mouth hanging open, “I can make things easy for you,” he pulled out a white envelope from within his uniform and pressed it into her still outstretched hand, “Or hard.”

Liza, dumbfounded, looked down at the fat unsealed envelope to see a wad of money, neatly arranged. She didn’t know how much it was, but she was sure she’d never held so much money before. Her meagre salary couldn’t have filled a third of the envelope. She looked up to see a wicked look in the captain’s eyes as he measured her reaction to it, and Liza’s mind turned from awe to righteous indignation. She’d joined the force to make a difference, she’d…

But a sharp cough as the captain, a heavy smoker, cleared his throat again, brought Liza’s train of thought to an end. Suddenly, she was back in her dimly lit impoverished little home, with her mother lying miserably on a thin cot at her feet.

“Sure Sir,” she murmured, stuffing the envelope into the lapel of her crisp navy suit.