*This post is long! I wanted to jot down my whole experience for my remembrance and for those who are curious. Be warned!*

As
the police officer shouted at me in his motorcycle, waving his right
arm, I began to pull over. I quickly told my friend I would call her
back and that I was being pulled over. I was sure that it was because I
wasn't technically talking on my cell phone "hands free". I had the cell
phone clutched in my left hand but on speaker mode. The officer
approached the car as I remained calm, preparing myself to be asked for a
bribe. The officer spoke sternly to me telling me I have offended the
law and speaker phone use was strictly forbidden while driving. Without
asking for anything he told me to follow him to the police station and
that I was "under arrest". Being under arrest is different here. It's
more of like a command to go speak to the office to pay a bail fee to
ensure you will be in court the following day or to be jailed until the
hearing. The fee was steep. About $125. I followed the officer to the
police station, parked my car and followed him inside the building. He
looked at me and said, "This is the jail." I felt like he was trying to
intimidate me since he didn't point out any other offices. So, this
wasn't a tour.....
I climbed the steps to the 2nd floor and met a
chubby woman in uniform and a slender woman who sat at a nearby window,
looking out at the street. She asked me to sit and asked me about my
offense. I'm sure she already knew since she had communicated with the
officer who escorted me in. I confirmed my accusation and she said, "So
you pay 10,000 shillings now." I assured her I didn't have the amount in
my purse and that I would be glad to go to the bank and get it for the
bail fee. She told me that I couldn't. This is kind of a game. I was prepared. Like a
bargaining strategy. Kind of like if you've ever haggled for a price for
a souvenier in a foreign country and the seller firmly tells you a
price. They'll walk away and come down in price or make some kind of negotiation after a few minutes. It became
clear after a few minutes that she wanted a bribe, asking me to put on
the table all the money I had. I took the 1700 (about $20) out of my
purse and laid it on the table. She told me to pick up my keys and go
home. I asked her if I've been forgiven and if I could take my money
back. She told me to just go. I told her that I couldn't leave the money
because I am a Christian and wouldn't do that. She spoke back and forth
in Kiswahili with the woman at the window. The woman at the window
wasn't in uniform and for all I knew, could've been her sister. I was
careful not to call the money on the table a bribe. I didn't want to
make her defensive and possibly angry. She was kind and told me to take
my money back and go to the ATM for the bail fee and that she couldn't
ask me to do something I was uncomfortable with.
I left the
office, got in my car, leaving my driver's license inside the office to
ensure my return and went to the ATM. After I withdrew the money at a
local mall and picked up a few miscellaneous items on my shopping list(I
know, it's a little funny) , I was on my way back to the station,
determined to share the gospel with this woman.
Upon return
the women were no longer there and instead was a kind gentleman in the
office who wrote me a receipt and ticket, advising me to appear in
Kibera court by 8 AM the next day. He left his phone number in case I
ran into trouble. He was very kind and I said nothing about the women
before.
I got to Kibera court by 8 AM only to discover that they
don't let people in until 9. So we waited. Yes, we. Jonathan came and I
was insistent on bringing Benny. My thought process was, "maybe if I
bring Benny, he will cause a disturbance. The judge will see how small
my offense was and just tell me to go home." I was told by a friend who
was at Kibera Court a week before that I could be sitting there for over
8 hours! I was desperate. When 9 AM came there was a large crowd trying
to get through security screening and once I passed through, I was
directed to a court room for traffic offenses. Shortly after sitting in
that room, the traffic offenders were told that the room had been
changed. Upon entering the next courtroom the wooden benches filled up
quickly and soon, we resembled a can of sardines. We rose when the
judge entered the room and sat when he did. Soon a line of men, cuffed
to each other also entered the room. My section was told to get up and
shift so the cuffed men can sit. I began to get panicky. I ended up
sitting next to two of the men. What in the world were cuffed men doing
with the traffic offenders? Two of the men sat next to me, they smiled
at Benny, who was sitting on my lap playing Angry Birds on my phone. The
guy next to me opened a file and I saw he accused of stealing from a
church. 72 chairs, a couple of tables and a church banner. I wonder what
he did with the church banner. The guy he was cuffed to was bring
accused of rape of a child.
I sat in the courtroom as the lawyers
with stacks of files called out names, some rose when they were called,
many were absent. One guy answered when called to which a female lawyer
stood and replied, "This man is not such and such...." The judge said,
"What is your name?" to the man. He looked sheepishly at the judge and
gave the man the same name they had just called. He slowly walked
towards the back of the room and shimmied on out the door in plain view
of everyone. No one went after him. I'm still not sure what happened
there.
The man who was accused of robbing a church was
called, stood up, and confirmed his name. The pastor of that church came
to testify against him. They tried him right then and there. I can't
tell you the outcome because it was in Kiswahili. It was fascinating to
me. The church was named, "Miracles and Wonders Revelation (at that
point I began thinking, "How long is the name of this church?" So I
can't tell you the rest of the name).

Finally they began to
call the traffic offenders around 10 AM. I was the 2nd called. I stood
before the court as the judge said, "You are accused of talking on your
phone while driving. Is it true?" I confirmed. The lawyer said, "Please
speak for yourself." At this point, all Kenyan eyes were on me. I was
one of two white people in the courtroom and I felt small. Knowing how
silly excuses sounded before the court I quickly said, "Yes I was
talking on my phone but I didn't know that speaking on the speaker mode
was an offense. So I...." I couldn't think of anything else to say. I
stopped in mid sentence with the lawyers looking at me, the judge
writing something in my file. I didn't try to recover my sentence
because I desperately wanted to sit down and hoped that they would just
make a decision. The judge said, "10,000 shilling fine or 40 days in
jail." They excused me and I sat on bench that had been cleared for us.
Feeling relieved that I was our of the "hot seat" I watched onto the
next case in amusement and curiosity. The man called after me had
committed the same offense and said, "I didn't know talking on the
speakerphone was against the law." The judge replied firmly, "Ignorance
is no excuse for offending the law!" I could tell that that response was
meant for me too and I couldn't agree more.
The judge listened to the
excuses of the traffic offenders one after the other, never dismissing
any. One guy was speeding and claimed he had been a driver for over 25
years and never had a ticket. This circumstance he had to speed because
his employer was in labor with her 6th child and she and the baby were
dying. He went through the dramatic story and I was moved deeply,
feeling sorry that there really is no 911 emergency, no one equipped to
meet someone at their home for this kind of emergency. She would've died
and the baby too. After the story nearly concluded, the defendant had a
big smile on his face and said, "I am happy to report that we made it
to the hospital in time and both baby and mother are doing well." He was
fined 3,000 shillings (about $35-$40). He seemed happy with the
outcome.
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After the last case was heard, us pitiful traffic
offenders, were asked to leave the courtroom 2 by 2, holding hands with
the person next to us. The Kenyan man next to me, looked down when asked
to do this, refusing to give me his hand. The female officer came over
and firmly told him, "Shika mkono!" (Hold her hand!) Again he didn't.
See, culturally, you will see a man hold hands with another man if they
are good friends. Even a woman and another woman if they are good
friends. But to hold hands, male and female, even if you're married
isn't done. Younger generations in Nairobi are starting to show PDA but
is still pretty taboo. An Indian man, maybe in his mid-thirties rushed
forward and held my hand. I felt so embarrassed. They had us walking so
slow I felt the need to laugh at the awkwardness of the hand-holding. I
quietly joked to him, "So...I guess we are going to get married now..."
He laughed and began to tell me that this was his second offense. He was
fined 15,000 (over $200) for obstructing the road when going the wrong
way on the street. His defense was there was no sign indicating he was
going the wrong way on this small street. We too, had previously been pulled over
for the same thing. There are NO SIGNS telling whether you are going the
wrong way or the right way on certain parts of the road. That time we
had the kids in the car and the officer excused us.
During our walk to wherever they were leading us, I was texting Jonathan rapidly in broken texts
to "hurry!" and that I thought they were taking me to jail. They were. We
were marched out the front, hand-in-hand as Kenyans outside were staring
at us, trying to get a glimpse of the criminals. I realized then, I am
the only woman in the group. I hoped that there would be a separate
women's jail I would go to. The guards with AK47s opened the gates
around the back and gave me one look, laughed and said, "Welcome to
jail!" I knew they were trying to intimidate me but I felt such a peace
from God and honestly, this was probably the funniest experience so far.
It seemed VERY dramatic. I was becoming aware that things could get a
little scarier once they put me in jail. Still I remained unmoved, sure
that I would get an opportunity to share the gospel with someone and at
complete peace with whatever were to come my way. We were escorted into
the cell where I saw a sea of black male faces. "Are you serious?" I
thought. I can't go in there. I'm the only white woman. The officers
began to shove us back and I stayed as close to the front as possible,
not asking for special treatment but hoped the officers would see that I
needed to stay in view of the guards. As we came into the cell, two
officers held a crate of Tuskers (beer) which were unopened and a keg
and were trying to get it through the crowd and moved outside the cells.
I was shocked at the openness of it. They weren't trying to hide it at
all.
One of the guards saw me and said,"I have spoke to
your husband and he is paying your bail now. Here, sit right here." He
allowed me to sit next to the security officers and I felt grateful. I
looked as another line of prisoners formed and I could see outside the
gates, family members came to get a glimpse of their loved ones behind
the concrete wall with a small window. They looked like they would all
march by the window and they even got a few minutes with those waiting
on the other side. In this line of prisoners I saw women. Some looked at
me in curiosity and some giggled, smiled and waved. A man came up to me
and asked me for a job. There are no words for that kind of humor.
One
of the guards called all of us traffic offenders together and had us
sign a form. It was here, I realized that we were getting back our bail
money (the 10,000 shilling I had paid the day before). "Wow!" I thought.
"I never expected to get BACK the money. I thought it was gone
forever!" But why in the world would they give us back so much money IN
jail? Were they crazy? This was a mugging waiting to happen! One of the
traffic offenders next to me commented, "Now I have all this money from
the bail given back to me but my fine is less than this. It's silly that
I have to wait till my brother gets here so he can take money to pay
the fine. I have it in my hands." How strange. It really was a matter of
these guys needing to get someone to walk the money to an office. How
frustrating. Later we found out that the office was telling people they
had to go to another bank down the road to deposit the fine money. Then
they said that that bank couldn't take the money and made them go to
another bank, much further away.
After about 25 minutes, an
officer came to retrieve me, informing me that my fine had been paid! I
was so glad to get out of there. As the officer approached he asked what
kind of work I do. I told him I am a missionary and pastor's wife.
"HEY!" He shouted in an excited tone. "A woman of God! A REAL woman of
GOD!" I began to get embarrassed as the other prisoners began to look at
me. I kept thinking, "Hey, keep it down! I'm still in jail!"
As I
walked out, a free woman, the officer said, "I can tell that there is
something different about you. I have seen you this whole time and there
you are, smiling and not worried." I replied, "I would've been okay,
even if I did stay the night because I know my God is with me." I saw
Benny and Jonathan walking up when Benny sprang into a run, jumped into
my arms and said, "YAAAY! Mommy's out of jail!"
We walked out of
the parking lot, relieved to be done, when a man yelled out to Jonathan
(who Jonathan explained had been crossing paths with him during the
whole "bail out" process as he was trying to bail out his son. He was
the father of the Indian man I had held hands with) said, "HEY! Do you
have a machine gun?!? This country is ridiculous! I hate it here! I
can't take it anymore!" We decided together that a good rule of thumb
is:
A civilian should never yell, "HEY! Do you have a machine gun?" in front of a jail.
Apparently
that man had been told to go to several different places to pay bail,
when he went to the places, they would send him somewhere else. At the
moment he was shouting to us, they told him to go to a mall that was
pretty far away. With all the running around and especially in Nairobi
traffic, it's enough to make ANYONE crazy.
We decided
to use some "jail bird" money my grandmother sent to us for a nice lunch
where Jonathan and I laughed as we recounted different parts of his
story and mine.
After a morning of "busting out of the joint" I attended my home school meeting where we would be discussing curriculum.