the blanket

On 2nd site visit we arrive in Makupa Kauma--a waning town resembling the set of an old spaghetti-western flick, seated above a beatufiul valley of miombo woodlands. Ben, the outgoing PCV, has some business to settle here. A few months before he left the site his hut was burgled and a few insignificant items were lifted, one being a PC-issued blanket. The perpetrator was since apprehended and Ben intends to see justice done and identify the blanket. As we and a crowd of farmers gather outside the station, the police chief steps from the porch to greet us. Eyes bloodshot and breath reaking of alcohol beneath his wide-brimmed hat, the tall figure extends his right hand--which is missing half the index digit--and welcomes us with a toothy grin. He escorts us into the closet-sized station and we seat ourselves at benches along the wall, inches from the police chief's desk situated before a wall plastered with posters and random biblical verses. Proverbs 21:19 is oddly/comically placed among them. The thief enters and is questioned, then promptly forced outside and roughed-up a bit. Case closed. Ben thanks the police chief and officers for their help, to which the police chief asks--no, BEGS--for K10,000 ($2) for his services.
"But you have done your job," Ben retorts, "Why should I pay you?"
He continues to plead for money ("a small gift"), reluctantly settling on several sheets of notebook paper, but continuing to beseech for kwatcha. Ben finally tells him to take the blanket, at which point the other officers chime in, "But how will the four of us split one blanket?" They were all hoping to tie on a few more. The irony is that all this occurs in the station under the gaze of several posters for the Anti-Corruption Commission. I don't know whether to laugh or shake my head.