WHEN I was 10, 12 years old or thereabouts, my friends and I from Wortmanville would try to sneak into the pit section of the Globe Cinema to see Johnny Braff perform. Given the pandemonium in the pit section, the ticket man would be confused and in the wild rush, you get past him.

In those days, vehicles on the roads were scarcer than elephants in downtown Georgetown so there would be no traffic confusion outside the cinema. But each time Johnny Braff performed, there was a police presence. Commonsensically of course – crowd control and detection of pick-pocket thieves.

When I became an early teenager, I would visit the annual Diwali fairs at Gandhi Youth Organisation sports ground on Woolford Avenue. Again, there would be no traffic confusion but there was always police presence in the ground. From that early age, you know while living in Georgetown that entertainment events would have police ranks. I would think that is the standard police procedure.

Last Saturday evening, I left the seawall around 7 PM with my dog to head home. I travelled from the Bandstand east on the seawall road and turned south into Camp Road where the large buildings that house the head office of the Guyana Police Force are located. Going south on Camp Road was an impossibility.

Everest Cricket Club had a huge entertainment event on the ground. I am a “seawall dweller” so I know the chaos on Camp Road outside Everest whenever there is a big fete there. Patrons were parked on both sides of the road so you cannot go south, and traffic cannot go north. It is an angry situation to be in. Saturday night was no different. You were stuck in traffic right outside the police head office, right outside the barracks that house dozens of trainees.

I could understand traffic confusion at a place ten miles from a police station but not right outside the station. There were no traffic rank, and no anti-crime ranks outside Everest. Suddenly about 20 youths darted from Everest and began harassing drivers, most of which had their windows up, but I always drive in a tropical country with my windows down.

One youth poked his head way into the passenger’s front seat and my dog almost took his nose off. My dog is always in the front seat when I leave the seawall. He screamed and ran furiously away while the others ran after him. It would have traumatised me if he was bitten because my dog is genetically harmless, but the dog reacted to the sudden intrusion.

It took a while to get out of the concrete jungle and all the while I was there, I did not see a policeman – either a traffic rank or one from the anti-crime squad. May I remind you this was right outside Eve Leary. It was an unlucky night for me on Saturday. As I drove home east on the Rupert Craig Highway, I saw a police vehicle with flashing lights.

Apparently, the ranks stopped a woman with her children and were interrogating her. It was a two-man party. One policeman was inside the police open back truck while anther was at the side of the woman’s vehicle. I know cars. It was a cheap car similar to the one I drive so the lady was no petty bourgeois socialite.

I said to the officer sitting in the front seat that he needs to go to Everest as there was frightening traffic chaos there. Once more in my life I was faced with the Freddie Kissoon syndrome. He knew who I was. He was in no mood to entertain me. Immediately he said: “Mr. Kissoon, why yuh telling me dis? Go call 911.” Then he said something that got me deeply annoyed. He said: “Go put it on social media.”

Then he carried on directing his remarks to my social media presence. I thought it was time to record the conversation (I don’t have a smart phone so I couldn’t capture his behaviour) but the police are now outfitted with cameras. I asked his partner to record how this rank was behaving. Here is the part you are not going to believe.

His colleague said to me that he has to turn off his camera because he cannot record his colleague saying those things. Guess what happened next. Because he turned off his camera, his colleague went on and on. While he was carrying on, I asked him: “Is that to intimidate me? I am not easily intimidated.” With those words, I got into my car and drove off.
DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions expressed in this column are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the Guyana National Newspapers Limited.