How Not To Get Into Trouble

I had wanted to update the ‘I knew I was in Trouble’ post for a couple of days now but could muster neither the physical nor mental capacity; what with spending my working day chatting, driving, atimes dealing with the obnoxious, telephoning and sometimes actually working, the evenings are a sort of recuperative wind-down-in-front-of a news, sports or nature channel before bed. Except for most Fridays. And Saturdays.

I ‘listened’ to the comments on that post and found them to be wise counsel, so I limited my involvement.

Mr A was arraigned at Uxbridge magistrates’ court on the Monday of last week and, though he had some friends present as well as legal counsel (who thought it prudent to allow the state-appointed solicitor to continue with the case), was not granted bail because when coming into the UK, he had stated to the immigration authorities he would be staying in a hotel – thus, no fixed abode. So off to Sutton prison he went and was assigned a prisoner number (I never even knew there was a prison at Sutton).

By the time the case came up last Friday, the prosecutor had Mr A’s life on paper – educational institutions he attended (in Nigeria!), age (52), employment details, everything. It was instructive that she (prosecutor) tacitly acknowledged that he was not suspected of being a terrorist but someone who made a stupid mistake, and the law had to take it’s course.

Mr A, on a trip to the Philippines last year, had purchased the offending belt because he thought it was ‘funky’, looked young and was ideal to hold up his jeans. Unfortunately for him, it was a survival belt with a knife, fork, tin opener, nail clipper, lighter, torchlight, pen, etc; you know the type, bona fide James Bond material. The only things it did not have were toilet paper and WMD. Sadly, one of his friends who’s been here 14 years had seen him retrieve a ‘weapon’ from the belt days before his depature, commented on the belt being unusual and Mr A responded that it was his ‘travelling belt’, yet did not have the sense to point out the inherent danger.

The judge found him guilty, sentenced him to the minimum 14 days in prison and released him as he had spent the mandatory half (7 days). He left for Lagos the same day.

I called him last night to commiserate and offer my sorrow, if only he knew my blog friends had instructed me to ask if he wanted the cutlery for live chicken and amala. He seemed happy but said: emu London yin dani o, eni rimi nibe mo (hold on to your London, you will never see me there again).