And while his [a white police officer’s] colleague was interrogating me, he was interrogating my children. And from the corner of my eye, I saw him plug one of my children against the car and started searching him like a hardcore criminal. A nine-year-old! You know?! A nine-year-old. I fumed inside me. In the meantime he had asked my son whose car was I driving. I was working for Revlon as a business development manager so I had a company car, but my children knew it as my car. My son answered and said, “It is my mother’s car.” He come to me and asked the same question, I told him that “It was my company car.” He spun around in fury and accused us saying we were liars. He said, “Your son says it is your car, and now you’re telling me it’s your company car?” He grabbed both my kids by their scruffs.
That was the last straw when I saw their frightened faces and tear drops swelling in their innocent eyes. I just… I saw red—police or no police I’d had it. I grabbed him by his collar and I gave it to him first with my head—I beat him up before his colleague separated us. And as it happened, the situation almost became extremely volatile as the community and the school children were just about gathering to come to the full scene to our rescue. His elder partner saw the challenge they were going to face, and he tried to speak sense to his intoxicated colleague, but he would not listen. He held him backwards and I asked my kids to run to school. After separating us and my sons gone off to school, I had to go to the police station to report the matter and ease off any possible further harassments.