The police, especially the senior echelons within the corps, have, of late, been receiving a lot of bad press from both the local and foreign media in connection with the assassination of Daphne Caruana Galizia as well as the Daphne Project.
As if this wasn’t bad enough, we have also read about a former assistant police commissioner whose alleged alcoholism was a contributing factor in his multiple brushes with the law he once swore to uphold; a young constable, not long on the force, who was charged with raping a female colleague; and a police sergeant given a suspended prison sentence for allowing migrants to bypass immigration control at the airport.
The list is, of course, much longer. Such behaviour makes one wonder why certain people decide to join the police force in the first place.
However, I would like to highlight a personal encounter with the police. On the evening of Wednesday, April 11, a desperado smashed the quarter window of my son’s parked car and grabbed his knapsack containing a laptop which had cost him an arm and a leg. Thanks to its inbuilt tracking device, however, he managed to identify the laptop’s location and pass on the information to the police.
We couldn’t believe our ears when, the following day, less than 24 hours after the crime was committed, a phone call from the inspector in charge of the case informed us that not only had they managed to apprehend the culprit but also retrieve the laptop! Our son got his laptop back on Saturday, April 21, just 10 days after it was so callously taken away from him.
I must now empathise with all those victims of crime whose story did not have a similar happy ending or whose experience of dealing with the police was not too pleasant. However, one should not generalise or make sweeping statements. I would like to applaud those police officers who are a credit to their profession, despite the odds being often stacked against them.
To say that being in the police force is a difficult, stressful and often thankless occupation is perhaps an understatement. For some of them, risking life and limb at the hands of violent criminals is quite common. Also, they work unsociable hours away from their loved ones, they confront unsavoury characters and have to turn up at the law courts on what are supposed to be their days off. And they sometimes have to find the courage to tell parents that their son or daughter is dead. They also sometimes have to deal with political interference, Maltese style.
I wonder how many people know that certain policemen often go the extra mile and transport homeless people to shelters in their squad cars when such people don’t even have enough money to pay for a bus fare.
To the inspector and sergeant in charge of this case, as well as their colleagues on duty at the Valletta and Ħamrun police stations at the time, what else can I say, also on behalf of my wife and son, without sounding too melodramatic, except: “Thank you for doing such a good job.”