Dada Masilo

My First Time... Being Arrested

1 July 19 words: LeftLion

What the bob happened? We asked your lot about the first time you got chucked in the nicker...

illustration: Alex Vine

"It started after getting a complete paranoia attack at a rave. I’d been up for three days, and had consumed too many drugs and not enough water. I tried to escape, but my legs wouldn’t work and the bouncer was trying to smash me in the face with a bottle. I later found out that he was trying to give me water. I managed to get away, but ran straight into a meat wagon and got arrested. I woke up in QMC not knowing where I was, in an empty room with a guy in a doctor’s coat. I know I was tripping balls, but I swear he turned around and said in the creepiest voice, “I’m making you better!”. Saw had just come out, so I ran out of there and down the corridor. Every door was locked, and two male nurses tackled me. I passed out, flatlined for twenty seconds, and woke up handcuffed to a bed. I don't do drugs anymore, but I still go raving, because you only live once. Or twice." - Male, 35 - St Ann's

"I was a heroin addict when I was arrested for the first time. I’d learnt that there was a big police operation that day, and 140 people had been arrested. Undeterred, a friend and me still went out to try and score. I found out that the police had taken my door off, and had been round my Grandmother’s house. Furious, I decided to go to the police station and have it out with them. An officer immediately put me in cuffs, and told me that I was being arrested for supplying heroin. It was only when I talked to my solicitor that I started to connect the dots. I had been selling drugs a couple of months previously, and the evidence they had on me was overwhelming: descriptions of my build, address, layout of my flat, even the small scar next to my nose. It turns out that I’d sold heroin to an undercover police officer. That night was a sombre one." - Male, 37 - Clifton

"Me and the lads were on holiday in Torremolinos in the seventies. We’d all had too much to drink when we decided to steal a little sailing boat. The idea was to sail to Africa, grab as many diamonds as we could, and head back to live out our lives as rich men. We’d barely even made it off the beach before the Spanish authorities arrested us and threw us all into the dingiest, dirtiest prison cell you’ve ever seen. The place was absolutely crawling with cockroaches, it smelt horrendous, and we had no idea how long we’d have to stay locked up. To make matters worse, we were all starting to sober up, which meant facing the reality of the situation we were in and dealing with one of the worst hangovers I’ve ever had. They eventually let us leave after a couple of days, but it was years before I dared go back to Spain. I’ve still never been to Africa either." - Male, 71 – Ilkeston

"When I was 15, me and my mates would go down to Bramcote Park every Friday night to drink and snog boys. Some of the lads looked over eighteen, so they would pick us up Lambrini and White Lightning. One night there were about fifteen of us, all pissed as a fart, when my best mate and me decided to get the bus back to Lenton. We argued about something, and I punched her square on the nose. There was a lot of blood, and I ended up stumbling home. The next morning my Mum woke me up because there were two police officers in my living room who wanted to talk to me about the night before. I had no idea what they were talking about before it all came flooding back. I was mortified, and broke down in tears before confessing. Fast-forward nineteen years and I’m now a copper, working for the same police force that arrested me all those years ago." - Female, 34 - Beeston

 

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