'POLICE ARREST'

I began my day with a hopeful prayer, "Lord, bless my hustle." After a morning push-start, my taxi was back on the road. A kind passenger, impressed by my English, offered a gentle peck on the cheek and a promise to see me again. Elated, I cruised through the streets, exchanging warm greetings with passersby.

But my joy was short-lived. A young police officer waved me down, his stern face a stark contrast to my cheerful mood. "You're under arrest!" he barked, without explanation. My heart racing, I wondered what I'd done wrong.

Had it been the bribes, overspeeding, or broken traffic rules? Or was it the curfew-busting charter the previous night, transporting three suspicious passengers reeking of weed? Panic set in as we approached the police headquarters.

But just shy of our destination, the officer's tone shifted. "Stop!" he ordered, then surprisingly offered a warning: "Don't do it again, or you'll face jail without trial." I breathed relief, confused by the sudden leniency.

As I sped away, reality dawned: the officer simply needed a free ride but was too proud to ask. My naivety dissipated, replaced by a mix of amusement and gratitude for a second chance.