Who is the police? What really is the role of the people in blue uniform that stand in the middle of traffic, or gather at police stations a few hours later than expected, purporting to be on duty? Who are they? Those who wear green because they supposedly wield more power than those in blue, and can carry more than your average “rungu” or loaded pistol if lucky? Who are all those people who stand on the side of the road at random times of the day, stopping my bus home, and finding another means to earn because they have their claws all over the transport system, squeezing the much they can get out of the drivers of PSVs in order to maybe meet up latter with pals in a bar to let their minds wander in the drunken state?
Who are they? Because I do not know them? I do not know anyone who protects me from being pick pocketed off my new phone in the very same place that I would call the streets of home. I do not have anyone to turn to when someone tries to openly and randomly grab my ass. I do not have anyone to make me feel safe. All those people in uniform are not there to protect me! All those people in uniform are not there to make me feel safe. All those people in uniform are not there to stop cars on the road from taking over the sidewalk. All those people in uniform are not there to serve me! If anything, I would suppose that they are like children who go to school just because the school offers free meals, and who clamor and wait for every single meal in school, fidgeting and getting distracted because they cannot, at any moment seem to concentrate at the task at hand. Nothing else is as important as getting their stomach filled.
When you witness occurrences such as that which happened at Daystar university, a school which prides itself with being among the most consistently attractive learning institutions of Kenya, it makes one wonder just how much it takes for a person in uniform to have a sudden itch to throw a teargas canister at innocently protesting students just to see what happens. And this itch, scratched by one of the police officers in uniform present at Daystar, is one that isn’t seemingly singular, but is replicated over and over again if you happen to interact with police officers, in a hostile situation. This itch, almost seems to be placed in them when they put on that blue or green uniform. You might think a change of uniform might do the trick, and fix all of this. Probably a change from something less demeaning to my favorite color(i.e. blue) to something such as yellow or red. Maybe the stark conspicuous nature of this color will plant the slightest of conscience in their states of mind.
How can a police officer wear that uniform and choose to prioritize himself over others? How can a police officer wear that uniform and choose to look at the rest of the citizenry as a juicy fruit that they can squeeze extra money out of? And who then is supposed to protect us from ourselves. We alone, when entrusted with our own safety and security, will look at neighbors with a more suspicious eye, and erect higher walls, get fiercer dogs, and even go through thick and thin in order to acquire a gun, because the slightest of movements in the middle of the night make us squeeze ourselves in the blankets – since there is no one we can trust our sleep with. Neither the men in blue, nor those in green coz those guys are busy napping, and busy devising new ways to squeeze our something extra out of the very people who, come the night, dread it, and thank God every morning for waking up to see another day. If we can’t see the sense in putting our faith in another person, the faith we have in ourselves is only as selfish and self defeating as trying to shave ones own head. Because faith, especially the type of faith confounded in oneself, is void, and hallow, blind, and singularly crippling to our ability to see the light in others.