Hello Kofi,

It’s been a pretty long while since we last communicated. Last time I wrote congratulating you on your graduation from law school, you threatened to sue me. The prospect of you taking me to court really delighted me so I called up my lawyer to start preparing my defence. Sadly, it seems you were just blowing hot air! I just want to let you know that I am ready when you are. I can’t wait to see you in the dock either as a criminal defendant or as a civil plaintiff.

I don’t know how you do it but there is something oddly admirable about the way you have managed to stay out of the dock even though none other than the Chief Justice of the Republic recommended that you should be prosecuted for your unholy dalliances with drug traffickers. If all suspected criminals could escape prosecution in the manner you have done, we might have to turn the Nsawam Prisons into a prayer camp and convert that new penitentiary they are building at Ankaful into a five-star hotel.

Don’t get me wrong, buddy. I am not saying you are guilty. Not yet. I believe firmly in “innocent until proven guilty”. My problem is that you seem to have so skilfully skirted the legal processes that should prove your innocence or guilt with the sort of dexterity that would amaze even the baboons in the Amazon. You also appear to have done a lot of work trying to get people to believe that you are innocent and that you actually did a fantastic investigative job that helped in the prosecution and conviction of your “brothers”, Tagor and Alhaji Abass. You further seem to have a legion of loyal, sycophantic friends in the media who have recently started to make a strong case for you to be reinstated in the police service. To cap it all off, you also have some very strong political forces (and some traditional rulers, I hear) standing firmly behind you.

Otherwise, why on earth would the former president – in his last hours in office – try to wring the hands of the one coming after him by authorising your re-instatement when for the best part of three years he was content with you being on interdiction?

The other day, I heard the former information minister, Nana Akomea, defending why you are not sharing bunk beds with your convicted “brothers” – Tagor and Abass. He said that the former Attorney General in his “wisdom” decided not to prosecute you because there was no evidence. I wish I knew the spring from which his wisdom floweth. I would have gone there to drink from it. Maybe, it will help me to better understand why you have not been put in the dock.

Tagor and Alhaji Abass were not caught carrying cocaine. They were convicted primarily on the basis of the words they spoke on that secret recording of the meeting you had with them in your house – over bottles of whiskey. On that tape, they seem to admit involvement in the drugs trade. Your supporters want us to believe that the meeting was some sort of an undercover operation you spearheaded to unravel the mystery surrounding the disappearance of the parcels of cocaine from the MV Benjamin.

This is one of the lousiest cock and bull stories I have ever heard. Even the toddlers at Jack and Jill will smirk if you told this tale to them. Yet, your backers expect a nation with 12 million registered voters to believe this sort of crap.

First of all, the smart guy you are should be aware that a very public police officer – with his pictures on TV and in the newspapers – cannot go undercover. Yours was a remarkably miraculous first. You went ‘undercover’ when your cover had already been blown. Add that to your CV.

Secondly, anyone who listens to that secret recording will be quite surprised – if not shocked – by the conviviality between you and the drug dealers. You offered them drinks. You drunk expensive whiskey with them. And you all talked and said things you wouldn’t have said if you knew there was a JOY FM reporter around with a tape recorder.

“I wouldn’t hide anything from you,” you said on that tape. “The whole thing is that we are brothers and that’s why we are sitting here.”

On that same tape recording you are heard saying: “Alhaji once called me about a case I never understood. About five days ago, he told me that his friends had informed him that there was some business in town and that if I knew where the goods were, I should come and seize them so that he could also get his share as a mediator.”

We don’t need a mind-reader or a professor of linguistics to help us decipher the meaning of those words. Here is what I think. If Alhaji called you to “come and seize” the goods (and I know that he wasn’t talking about ‘broni wawu’ goods) it means that you have either been seizing stuff for him in the past or he knew he could count on you to help him seize other people’s stuff. Officers who act in such manner are commonly referred to as rogue police.

The point I am driving at, Kofi, is that I don’t believe a word your backers say. I think you have a lot of questions to answer. But you are one hell of a lucky guy and I really envy you. Instead of being put in the dock to answer all those questions, you continue to draw a hefty salary as a senior cop, you live in luxury in accommodation provided by the police service and you enjoy all the privileges of a senior police officer. And all this for doing what? Absolutely nothing!

You seem untouchable. Everyone tries to avoid talking about your case. Even Kufuor was so scared he didn’t want to handle it until just a few hours – in his lamest of lame duck days – before he was due to pack out of office. That was when he instructed that you should be re-instated.

Luckily the man who followed Kufuor has been so busy trying to get up after hitting the ground (and failing to run) and so he can’t be bothered about you. That man doesn’t even have time to interview his own information minister and so you are last on his list of priorities. Instead of staying in your small corner and enjoying what you undeservedly get, what do we hear? That you are in a limbo?

Stay there!

You are now a lawyer. Last time I wrote to you, I advised that you should put your new skills at the disposal of your “brothers”. I suppose you think I am a ‘nobody’ to advise you. Perhaps, your “brothers” are pushing you to do everything to get your job back. They think you will serve them better in a police uniform than you will in those silly wigs lawyers crown their heads with. After all, they can call on you anytime to “seize” things for them to get their share.

But don’t push your luck, buddy.

In case you didn’t know, there is a new government in town. They have vowed to deal with the drugs menace with all the venom they can muster. I don’t know how sincere they are but for me, the manner they handle your case will be a real test of their commitment to fighting the drug barons. If they allow you back into the police service, I’d say they also want to ‘sniff’ some of the stuff. If they put you in the dock, I’d say they are damn serious. And on this matter, I hope that the fountain of wisdom the current attorney general drinks from is different from the one which quenched her predecessor’s thirst.

In fact, the least I expect the government (and the police council chaired by the vice president) to do is to kick your butt out of the police service – that’s if they can’t deal with the snowball your prosecution will cause. Your re-instatement will do the police service more harm than good. It will dampen the morale of officers and it will not in any way help in the campaign against illicit drug trafficking. You dug your grave and you must be thanking your stars that you have not been forced to lie in it. Just count your blessings and quietly stay in your limbo!

If you don’t like what I have written here, Kofi, sue me. My lawyers are still on standby.

Dis-regards
atokwamena!


Ato Kwamena Dadzie