It’s no secret that the police in Thailand are corrupt.  You see it everywhere: drivers given exemptions to traffic tickets at the offer of a bribe, the colored lights of brothels (officially illegal) flickering on most main roads, people being treated roughly by officers on the side of the road.

But up until a few days ago, I hadn’t heard any stories from people I knew about run-ins with the police.

Pai, the woman who was like a mother-figure for me when I lived in Permsup, told me her story on Friday evening.  The day before, like every other day, a group of about 10 or so were hanging out on the plywood platform they’d constructed below a prominant, shady tree in front of the slum.  Some of the kids had been playing Bingo, for a little bit of money– the quivalent of about a quarter each.

Pai had gone into the community briefly and as she came back out a black police truck was speeding up to their tree.  It screeched to a halt, and police came out, yelling for everyone to get into the back of the truck.  They even threatened a couple of kids, one of the little girls shaking from fright.  They had spotted the money the kids had left out from playing Bingo, and concluded the group had been gambling, which is illegal in Thailand.

Despite protests, eight adults and teenagers were herded into the truck, usually used for dangerous criminals.  Those arrested included Yay Kaew, an elderly member of the house church there with health problems, Pai and her daughter Pat.  Pai told me she kept asking the police “why do you let the drug dealers in this community go free, and arrest us for Bingo?  It’s just Bingo!”  She also scolded them for scaring the children.

They were taken to the local jail.  Pat said the ride was so frightening that the police at the jail asked if she was sick, her face was so ashen.

They were each forced to pay a 5,000 baht bail, plus 1,000 as a booking fee.  None of them had that kind of cash on hand.  Finally they were able to contact two women in the community who run a store and food stall, and had a bit more money available.  Pai had some sort of insurance that could reimburse her for the 5,000, but the 1,000 baht was gone for good.  To put that in perspective, Pai works 3/4 time cleaning our office, for 3,400 baht per month.  After paying the exploitative electricity bill that same day (slum dwellers often pay more than those in formal housing), and then the 2,000 baht fee for herself and her daughter, she now has no money for the rest of the month.  Her husband is working upcountry and it will be awhile before they see any of his earnings.

They didn’t get to go home until 10 p.m.

Hearing this story just made my blood boil.  Having committed no crime, my friends just lost a huge portion of their hard-earned income.  They have no recourse for this kind of injustice.  And the police have all kinds of incentive to repeat this kind of thing all over the city– no doubt a big chunk of that 1,000 baht fee goes straight into their pockets.  At the same time, the real criminals who are selling drugs to the youth and shedding blood, are protected with a bribe.

That evening, Pai and I rode with others in the back of one of my neighbor’s pick up trucks, returning to our communities from a special combined worship service.  I told her that our church has a mercy fund created by a portion of the offerings, and that the leaders would certainly consider helping her with her expenses this  month.  I was humbled as she said,  “I just praise God because he is always providing for me”, describing how she felt so fortunate that she still had just over 2,000 baht left of her salary at the time of the arrest.  But as she again recounted the details of the story, she was visibly pained at the helplessness she’d felt, at the injustice.

I told her that Jesus says those who are least in this world will be greatest in the kingdom of heaven, and that those who are great in this world will be the least.  I have frequently felt these words echo in my heart as I see the faith of my neighbors and friends here.  I told her that God, too, is angry when these things happen, and that he is especially close to people who suffer injustice.  She wept, and seemed to take some comfort in these words.

I pray she’d come to know the Lord more and more as a “refuge for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble”, one who “does not ignore the cry of the afflicted” (Psalm 9).  Praise God that one day he will set right everything that has gone wrong in his creation.