“If we want people to respect us, we must first respect them.” Inspector Sam Adeotun admonished his men. He had recently been transferred to the Osa Divisional Police Headquarters. He walked through the ranks of officers at attention. “We cannot aid and abet criminals then turn around and expect people to respect us. Things must change from now on.” He looked straight at each man and woman. None made eye contact.

As they left, he overhead a sergeant say to his colleague, “He go soon tire. Gra-gra dey weak bodi.”

For a couple of days, the officers were on alert. They stopped demanding bribes, beating hapless hawkers, and extorting money from innocent youth. As the week wore on, when they neither saw nor heard from the Inspector, they returned to their old ways. “See, he don kulu temper,” the sergeant, gloated.

“Na oga pata pata tell say make e stop o,” another supposed.

“No mind am. E no get authority to dey tell us stop dis, stop dat.” Who e be, sef?” They dismissed the inspector and his high and mighty values.

On Monday, the officers stood for inspection. “Atten—shun! Eyes, right!” As they turned, the Inspector blew a handful of dust at them.

The officers blinked rapidly, trying to stay alert. Soon, they were rubbing their eyes and coughing. Eyes watering and throats burning, they struggled to dislodge the debris.

“Sand in the eye causes discomfort and poor vision” the Inspector said. “Until it is taken out, it brings misery. When officers who are supposed to be the eyes of the people, engage in bribery, brutality, slander, and much worse, they become irritants that need to be dislodged from the community.”