New Toys in the Backseat

Kinshasa police have a new toy. I have spotted the simple yet sleek design at various traffic crossings throughout the city. I've even tried capturing a photo (it's another of those needs to be seen to really be believed items) but no luck so far.

The device appears to be an alternative to the chunky traffic boot. It is long and slim, can be applied in seconds and requires no bending under the car or near the tire. The handle looks like a black rubber strap or bungee cord but is straight- kind of like an invisible dog leash.

Invisible dog walker

Instead of sporting an invisible dog at the end of the leash, however, the policemen and women of Kinshasa have something much more lethal. A piece of wood or iron is found at the end of the rubber strap and it hosts a mob of spiky nails an inch thick or more. It is a portable, handheld version of the tire spike strip.

     Kin strips require no bending and appear much hardier than this traffic spike. Photo found at this all-in-one supply site

I've been noticing them around and hoping fervently not to be stopped by one while at the same time wondering why my heart races just a little faster at the thought of it.  I did manage a narrow escape while rounding a turn out by the large bakery (known locally as Mama Poto I think)  on the way to Victoire.  The policeman knocked on my passenger side window and showed me what he was going to do, which allowed me just enough time (and luckily there was space) to speed up and maneuver away from him.

We weren't so lucky yesterday afternoon, however, on our way to meet some friends. I had made a right turn on red (as did the car in front of me) just by the Safricas intersection (Mercedes circle if you are from that generation of Kinois) when one of the police stepped in front of me (as they did with the car who had just passed. They usually never go for two cars in a row but somehow he wasn't stopped for very long.)  I thought maybe the problem was my right on red (really not sure if that is legal here in Kin even if it is necessary at times) but our conversation didn't get very far. Soon enough,  a cop appeared with the portable tire strip and placed it just behind my front wheel.  So I turned off the car, getting ready to dig in my heels and wait things out. My car was in the middle of the road, completely blocking all traffic, which I took to be a great advantage on my part.

As the cars honked and made lanes around either side us, we tried to figure out our traffic infraction. Mohamed thought they were telling him to sit in the back so he undid his seat belt and climbed over the seat. I couldn't really imagine that to be the problem and just as I was telling him to sit back down, so did one of the police from outside (no get back in front, he gestured, that's not it.) Around this time, they removed the strip and motioned for me to pull over- out from the middle of the road.

Of course, this was my only advantage so I advanced slowly with one policeman in front of me and the other motioning me to pull over, which I absolutely refused to do. It seemed, even if we advanced at this slow rate, I could eventually make my way to my destination with the policeman walking backwards in front of me the whole time. Just when I had this cheery thought, a beige jeep pulled up from the side cutting me off. I turned off the car again, now two cars deep cutting off traffic in the middle of the road and began to wait. All requests for an explanation about what the problem was were ignored. The man in the jeep got out, off duty if he was an officer,  it's completely unclear who he was or why he was there, and walked up to the car.

"Tell the kid to get in the back and it's finished. That easy," he said. Except of course we'd already tried that and it hadn't finished nor been that easy. I couldn't really understand the logic of this anyway. "He's too little," the man said. Too little? He's eleven years old, I thought, out of car seats for ages. Is he really too little for the front seat? In my five years of Kinshasa life and driving, I have never heard this.

A little research does suggest backseat placement for ages 8-12. Especially in a car with front air bags- though I have been thinking our school cars do not have airbags. Booster seats or car seats for ages up to 8, in the back of course. I have never seen any child in a car seat in Kinshasa except those of ex-pats and usually they are toddlers or infants. When I asked a friend (after finally arriving) he said 18 was the age in Kinshasa for riding in the front. 18? Really? I found this hard to believe and after some intense questioning he backed down a bit. He said  the kid had to "be big." I guess determining big is dependent upon the viewer. I am ready to comply with this new law (oh the fights and "I call shotgun-dibs-blended-locked-it-and-googled-it" I have just been saved from) but I am mostly incredulous that it's taken 5 years to figure this one out.

In the end, Mohamed jumped over the seat into the back and this time it worked. They shooed us on our way. I'm guessing it was a combination of the helpful stranger and me refusing to get out of the line of traffic but in reality, you can never actually tell why you've been pulled over or why you've been let go.  And I would love to see the car seat rules take effect here. Happy to do my part in spiking tires and stopping traffic to make that happen.