Mozambique is well known for many things: delicious and bountiful seafood, idyllic beaches and piri piri sauce amongst others. However, no trip to Moz is complete without a run in with "Mozambique's Finest". Known for their inspired take on the law and an imaginative approach to its application, extortion of tourists is a full-time profession among the Boys in Blue. Thus was the situation in which we found ourselves when flagged down by traffic patrol on Avenida Samora Machel on our way for some merrymaking at the excellent Gil Vicente Café.

In such situations, a calm and patient disposition, along with knowledge of the facts will see you through 99% of such encounters… unless you are VY. Long on the latter but woefully short on the former, it was with an odd mix of trepidation and anticipation that I watched her roll down the window to engage this perversion of justice. Trepidation because corruption legitimized by a uniform is disconcerting and anticipation because I know how vicious VY can be, having been subjected to her wrath many times before.

Wasting no time, VY's opening gambit was to go on the offensive by demanding to know the reason for being stopped, trademark irritation plain. Taken aback by the obvious disrespect, the officer attempted a recovery with a brusque “What?” while figuring out what to make of this diminutive but picantes Asian lady. Remembering that this week's moonshine money was at stake, he gruffly explained our offence. Apparently we had circled the roundabout in such a way that offended this man’s definition of roadside obedience. He made vague references to a “sign” that we had violated of some 50m back.

Never one to be intimidated, VY demanded further clarification, eliciting much mumbling and frequently changing responses in broken English and Portuguese. After two minutes it became clear that the officer had no basis for pulling us over and was only after a bribe. Suspicions confirmed, and fed up at being denied a night of cocktails and Fado, VY decided to call his bluff saying "OK let's take a walk and you show me this sign."

VY and I having a coffee and tea at the Polona Serena Hotel before all this police malarkey
Above: That guy is actually a really nice security guard in Joberg. Taking a picture of the Mozambican police would have probably tripled the find and earned me a tongue lashing from VY

Now, I don’t consider myself a coward, but being caught on a poorly lit street in a country well-known for its corruption and surrounded by mag-light wielding police with Kalashnikovs strapped to their backs is not my definition of a good time out. I’m all for cultural immersion, but this was too much even for me. As VY exited the car, she took all the confidence with her leaving behind only anxiety and visions of a long night in a Mozambican prison cell.

At this point, a junior officer, sensing an opportunity and perhaps encouraged by my agitated body language, thought he might try his hand at the extortion racket and tapped my window with the butt of his flashlight. For the sake of brevity, I will refrain from exposition here (ask me about it sometime over a beer) but will say that, armed with feigned ignorance and proper documentation, I managed to frustrate his considerable attempts at milking me for money.

Immediate threats to my person thwarted, my attention turned back to VY, who by this time had returned and had changed tactics; agreeing to the infraction but demanding a written citation knowing full well that it would never materialise as it gave her means to prove corruption. All sorts of reasons were cited for not producing the fine:

• he didn’t have the proper papers with him
• he would have to radio for a cruiser and, there being only one cruiser for all of Maputo, it would take too long to come
• he would have to take us to the police station to write us up
• etc

To each of these, VY had a ready response, even cheekily offering to drive the officer to the nearest police station to write up the citation. I will give the police full marks for sheer persistence and doggedness, but with VY overflowing with righteous indignation, this was one war of wills he was not going to win. Finally, frustrated at her stubbornness and deeming us too much trouble to be worth the effort, he dismissed us with a wave of his hand as he set his eyes on a shiny new rental car coming his way.

VY triumphant and the rest of us relieved, we began to drive off and had barely moved 100m before being waved down by another policeman in search of a kickback! Safely assuming he wasn’t there to wish us a good time in Maputo, we prepared ourselves for another fight. Thankfully, his peer called to him in Portuguese as what can only be assumed to be “Perd pas ton temps avec celle-là!” and he waved us away with his flashlight.

Never a dull moment in this city.