In Trouble with the Law

We've been told that there are two things that are inevitable when driving in Mozambique: getting in an accident and getting stopped by the police.

Today, the inevitable happened.

Being stopped by the police in Mozambique, where corruption is commonplace, is a unique experience.

For the most part, police officers in Mozambique are on foot. The police department has a few vehicles, but they are generally pick-up trucks filled with patrolmen, delivering police officers to their respective beats. The officers that stopped me today did so by waving at me from the side of the road.

They seemed so non-threatening that I pointed at myself ("who, me?"), and when they nodded I quickly considered which pedal to press. Stopping would be the right thing to do, but the officers are on foot, so what were they going to do? When the answer "shoot" popped into my head, I did what I was likely going to do anyway: pull over and stop.

The lead officer leaned down into my window and said something in Portuguese. I made an assumption, and pulled out my documentation. When he didn't seem interested in it, I told him that eu não falo portuguêse. He could speak a little English.

He told me that he would follow me to the police station (when he walked around and tugged on my passenger door handle, I quickly realized that in his broken English, what he really meant to say is that he would sit beside me while I drove there.) His partner hopped in the back seat.

I later learned that I shouldn't ever need to drive a police officer to the station.

Soon, he told me that the fine for what I did was 2.5 million meticais -- about $100 dollars, which seemed steep for Mozambique, but in line with Canadian standards, and who am I to argue with the law anyway?

I later learned that such a fine is far too high.

We drove a couple of blocks, and then he said something again. I didn't understand exactly, but something about "half." We could settle this without going to the station for half the fine. I knew that I only had about 300,000 meticais in my wallet, so I wasn't afraid to pull it out to show him. He was clearly disappointed. He was even more disappointed when I pulled out my empty pockets and assured him that there wasn't more hidden in the car, either.

He discussed his options with his partner, took my money, and hopped out of the car. I had just paid my very first bribe to a government official in a third-world country.

I later learned that the officers wearing green sweaters (as these gentlemen were) are pedestrian police, and don't even have the authority to stop a car.

Next time I'll know better. I'll still stop, even if I think they don't have the authority to pull me over. But next time, I'll ask them for a receipt.