Police-Community Relations

The police here in India are a tricky bunch. My friends tell me to carry 100 rs at all times in case a policeman stops us. (There no policewomen on the streets, but they do exist.) Usually the case is there are very corrupt departments in the central city office, like any big U.S. city, along with various corrupt sub-stations (covering about 5 square miles). We happen to be in a great sub-station. The Police Inspector for Madhapur is a good friend of my do-gooder buddies here in Hyderabad. He recently promised crosswalks for the school! However, the school straddles the line between Madhapur and Jubilee Hills and the neighborhood has a different relationship with the sub-station for Jubilee Hills.

Not that is it the Police Inspector’s fault, but the Jubilee Hills police were the ones called to tear down the huts on December 29, 2005 (see earlier blog post) by the Housing and Urban Development Association (HUDA). You can imagine how the neighborhood feels about this. So the PI for Jubilee Hills has an image problem around here. That has all changed a bit.

The first picture is Venkatesh, 1st standard A section. Venkatesh is very naughty, but adorable. He is at home recovering, very nicely, from an accident that happened in front of his hut, about a quarter-mile from the school. On February 14, a young man was driving fast to get to work and didn’t see Venkatesh sprinting across the road, trying to beat the car, on the way to school. The young man heard Venkatesh hit the car, stopped, looked back, saw a crowd around his car, and fearing he would get a good beating, took off at full speed. Thankfully, an angel appeared. A lady who happened to be a good friend of a doctor who owns the local hospital (Vikram Hospital) stopped her scooter, placed Venkatesh (who had regained consciousness) in a putt-putt with his grandmother, and sent them to the hospital. The lady then dropped her daughter at school, returned to the hospital, and paid for initial treatments.

Venkatesh’s family is a $4 dollar a day family. There are six in all: grandmother, Venkatesh, his sister and brother, and his mother and father. His parents are laborers, mainly crushing rocks and mixing concrete. Clearly, they would not be able to stay in a private hospital. So the grandmother bundled him out of the hospital, into a putt-putt, and took him to school to consult with the teachers on where to go. That is when I intercepted him, called our resident doctor, Arati (an American), for ideas. I had no idea what to do and no working knowledge of the government hospitals which offer free care except that I heard whispers of “butchering” and non-existent nursing care, but more on that in another time. So we sent him right back to Vikram where I had past experience with the doctors while taking care of employees in the apartments where the ex-pats live. Vikram’s staff (all female doctors, as it turns out) took incredible care of him. He escaped with a minor head injury and broken femur which was set with a plate (not pins...to allow for future growth) during a marathon operation.

The P.I. for Jubilee Hills was in on this case from the first moment. Ismail, who is the hero of the school in so many ways, put together a file on this case the day it happened. Ismail gathered eyewitness accounts from the tea stall where the accident happened, got the license plate number, and filed a report with a low-level, semi-literate police “clerk.” Since we do the no-bribe routine, I walked in just to check on the paperwork the next day. You never know, they may want to hold up paperwork just because there was no bribe. It just depends on the department. Having an American around really flushes this behavior out. For some reason, they don't want bribes from Americans, although they really did work Ismail for one. When I arrived, the police bureaucrats start acting stiff, like trying to remember how to move about after a long sleep. They shuffled around, trying to find forms they never use.

But then something happened. The P.I. saw me in the tiny hallway and remembered me from the day he had to bring his men in to tear down the huts. He was quite motivated to make this up to the neighborhood. This took the paperwork to a whole new level. I got a literate, very motivated young lieutenant and a very young police officer in a beret to go all over the scene, talk to the eyewitnesses, and file a proper police report. Ismail and I went back to check on this report a few days later and were told they tracked down the license plate.

They pulled the rascal into the station on March 27, 2006. He is a software engineer, about 26 years old. Since this is India, I got to question him. That was FUN. Even more fun, the station looks exactly like what you would think a police station in India would look like. There is a banana tree outside the door, fans going full speed, a dim holding cell with wide-eyed prisoners at the end of the hall, and antique rifles hanging around the shoulders of the thin or very, very fat police officers all dressed in brown. I got to slam my fist down on a desk and say, "Are you sorry you didn't call a hospital to report this? Are you?? Are you??" I made him sweat it and he apologized to Venkatesh and his parents. Here is a happy picture of Venkatesh’s parents with the arresting officers.

So the P.I had promised me he would get the rascal. AND HE DID! the P.I.'s image problem had improved in the neighborhood.

Just to finish the story, we concluded the entire police report by filing a settlement for immediate relief (15,000 rs) plus hospital expenses and other expenses (to be paid by the driver’s insurance company). This police report was sent to the A.P. Criminal Court for execution. We spend all day of March 28 running around the court from floor to floor to get the proper signatures. I saw a bribe go down in the file room, which has a computer but it is being used as a paperweight. At 3:30 PM, the judge (a lovely lady) heard the settlement, admonished the driver, spoke to length to Venkatesh (still in a cast), and the case was closed. Here is a happy Venkatesh outside the courtroom. The family entrusted me with immediate settlement to hold until they are able to buy three acres in their home village (south of Hyderabad) in Venkatesh’s name for his inheritance.