Colombo’s police stations: From dust to dust

When the people turned on the police in Angulana

By R. Wijewardene

The dust lies thick on more than a dozen improbably high stacks of torn and tattered cardboard files.

Flies buzz lazily around the small sweltering room, and the smell of stale urine thickens the already soupy air. A large number of uniformed, evidently government officials appear to be frozen in half a dozen poses of indifferent torpor.

Given the lack of any modern technology, the super abundance of files and the prevalence of idle uniformed officials this could be a dusty museum in some forgotten provincial town, or a lonely government office by a forgotten irrigation or agricultural scheme.

But in fact this particular scene of lethargy comes from a relatively modern police station in central Colombo.

As part of its on going investigation into the weaknesses of the institutions — judiciary, the police, prisons — that should serve as foundations for law and order in this country, The Sunday Leader took an in depth and on the ground look at some of the capital’s police stations and discovered; nothing.
No modern equipment, no facilities for inmates, or policemen, no sense of urgency and nothing resembling an investigation.

Rich in files

The one and perhaps the only thing the country’s police stations are rich in is files.

Thousands perhaps tens of thousands of files in every imaginable size, shape and colour are crammed into filing cabinets or sit naked on the floor, each covered in inches of dust and in its own distinct state of decay.

There are freshly dead files, long deceased files, and utterly decomposed files — each category distinguished by the thickness of the inevitable film of grey dust.

But the files are far from being the only under used objects in the stations.
In fact it is easy to imagine, given the evident torpor of most of the officers, nominally on duty, that some of the policemen too are acquiring a reasonable coating of dust.

Only the most active, typically women officers, spend time making entries and recording statements which of course find their way into the same files that serve generally as wall paper, carpeting and insulation.
It’s all a world away from the high tech crime labs, the urgent phone calls the non stop action depicted on countless TV dramas.

Stepping into a police station in Mt. Lavinia, Kirulapone, Maharagama or any other urban or suburban location is like walking into another time. We did not see a single functioning computer on any of our visits. In fact the only equipment on display were chipped ball point pens and antiquated firearms.

No prompt service

And while it is obvious that the officers in the stations aren’t troubled by an excess of work, those seeking the aid of our men in khaki aren’t guaranteed prompt service.

In fact those visiting police stations are forced to wait for hours to record even the simplest complaint or give notice of a change of address.
Inevitably these delays are not a result of the officers being occupied with some urgent business but occur because they are too busy staring into space, chatting to prisoners in remand, or drinking tea to trouble themselves with the complaints of members of the public.

It is possible to wonder around the corridors of a large police station for a full 20 minutes before anyone has the presence of mind to ask who you are and what you want.

And it is genuinely difficult to imagine how officers steeped in an environment of such intense lethargy could possibly respond to a crisis or emergency.

Not that swift responses are a regular occurrence.

The paltry number of phone connections provided to each station are often left unattended, as those tasked with manning them are busy with more important duties — fetching tea, befriending prisoners, or feeding the fish in stations’ fish tanks.

Phones not answered

Phones are left to ring for minutes before being answered and in some cases are left completely unanswered.

Again the idea of phones ringing unanswered in a police station makes a mockery of the traditional idea of an emergency 119 call. Nothing further from the conventional image of a modern police force could be imagined.
But while it is all too easy to lampoon our famously bungling police force it must be remembered that individual officers have done, and continue to do an admirable job combating terrorism and crime.

However for the most part the rank and file of Colombo’s finest are remarkable only for their inefficiency, corruption and intermittent brutality.
What a simple visit to a police station reveals however is systemic neglect.
While the faults of the police are too many to even begin enumerating, it is clear that many of the police’s failings stem not from the indiscipline and incompetence of officers, but from a lack of even the most basic equipment.
There are for example, no breathalysers, no speed guns, no tape recorders. Most vitally there is no modern, efficient or effective means of storing data — a simple spread sheet is an unthinkable luxury.

How the various files that constitute almost the entirety of the police’s work are tracked, stored and retrieved appears to be a mystery even to the officers themselves.

Not surprising

The frequent delays in the local legal system owing to missing files becomes entirely unsurprising after a visit to the back rooms of a police station.
Any sort of professionalism is unthinkable in a situation where officers are deprived of the basic tools of their trade — the means to gather finger prints, effective forensic equipment, even tapes to mark off crimes scenes are entirely absent.

How any sort of genuine investigation can be conducted using the equipment and facilities available in a local police station is hard to fathom.
And government statements regarding on going police investigations into everything from threatened journalists, to murderers are put into perspective when it becomes clear that an ongoing investigation is simply a file left on the floor of a store room to gather dust.

Ultimately a lack of resources has left the police absolutely emasculated. Instead of professionals devoted to investigating and tackling crime, officers have become nothing more than armed bodies on the street — second class soldiers tasked with sentry work and manning checkpoints.

Without any resources the only police work officers regularly conduct is recording statements — statements which of course find their way to the same neglected and dusty files and folders.

Relegated to such an insignificant role the country’s policemen, like its under equipped police stations have become useless for police work.
Compelled to spend hours recording filing and forgetting statements, or staring into space, the temptation of a life of bribery, corruption and moderate wealth is clear.

Certainly harassing people and soliciting bribes seems a more attractive and productive option than sitting in broken chairs gathering dust.