As I was driving around Kericho town on Christmas eve doing last minute gift shopping I came face to face with harassment by Kenya Police. 

My elderly mother, who has lived in Kenya her whole life, was accustomed to dealing with Kenya's police officers and stood her ground as they accosted us. The two policemen, a Mr. Langat (not related to author) and a Mr. Kimani continued to harrass us even as we continued to protest. As it turns out our only way out of this predicament was to toa kidogo, but as it was Christmas eve they expected a ransom toa kila kitu. Failure to bribe the policemen would result in our spending several nights in jail until the end of the year-end holiday. 

According to the police officers, my traffic offence was traffic obstruction. In my defence my movement was restricted as there was a matatu parked right in front of me. I later learned that this was a tactic used by the traffic police to solicit bribes from already poor wananchi. The proper action for me to take would be to toa kila kitu, people told me. I wondered how non-Kenyans driving through Kenya would understand this sub-culture, and how bribing by traffic policemen had become an acceptable culture. What happened next can only be described as surreal.

Langat asked for my driver's license. As I was handing it over to him he instead snatched my car keys from my outstretched hand. Next, he jumped into the driver's seat and drove off with my 50-year old mother still in the car. I was left behind, furious.  

By the time I got to the police station I found my mother trying to hammer some sense to a definitely drunk Afande Gitari. His drunken state was confirmed as he excused himself to throw up clearly having overindulged to the extent that it had become unbearable. But, he was the least of my worries. I was instead interested in knowing what I needed to do to get my car back. Well, the drunken officer ordered another officer to arrest. Again, as I later understood, this was another opportunity for me to toa kila kitu. The arresting officer asked me to take off my belt and one shoe, all the while asking how much money I had in my pocket. Once again, I missed the signal to toa kila kitu.

Arrested that day were about ten other people who were not allowed to contact their family or friends. Lukcy for me, I was with someone who could bail me out and I did not have to spend the day or night in jail. 

As I narrated my misadventure to my investment colleagues, when I returned to Australia, it was hardly surprising that they were losing their confidence in investing in Kenya. They are now considering investing in neighboring countries.

I cannot help but wonder how many business opportunities Kenya has lost because of a corrupt police force and government. 

I would like to challenge Kenya' police commissioner and the minister for internal security to clean up their force. At the very least, civil servants should learn good customer service skills so that they can best communicate with people without treating them as common criminals.