When I noticed my phone was missing one morning in 2007, I started thinking of ways to get a new one immediately. It had fallen out of a car and therefore the odds of me getting it back were few to none. Or so I thought. So imagine my surprise when an aunt called me on a friend’s line and told me a police officer had just called her, claiming to have my phone. She was skeptical about it really being a police officer and told me to follow up the claim with caution.
I dialled my number and indeed a police officer who introduced himself as Officer Omongin picked up. After I told him that the phone was mine, he told me to come to the police station in Ggaba with proof of ownership. Thankfully, I had my receipt with the phone’s serial number on it in my wallet.
At the police station, Officer Omongin explained that a couple of children had brought the phone to the station after finding it near the road.
He had dialled the last number in my call register and that is how he had got in touch with my aunt. I expected him to ask for a “soda” before giving me the phone but all he did was check that the serial number on the receipt matched with the phone’s, look at my ID, and give a lecture about taking good care of my property.
On top of that, when I offered him some money as a thank you, he said it is the children who had brought the phone to the station, who deserved the thank you, and directed me to where I could find them. No amount of insisting changed his mind and so I walked away, my faith in the police restored.