About a month ago, I was sitting in traffic and saw this sign:
Since that day, I’ve been troubled by many questions.
Who is P.C. Peace? What does he look like? What does he do? Are his real initials P.C., or is he a police constable? Does he wear a uniform for the counseling?
If the counseling is free, how does he make money? What other services does he provide? What are his terms, his pricing structure?
Does he offer ongoing maintenance where he swings by your house unannounced to see if the counseling is working? Does he give bulk discounts? Can a school call him and just have him do all of Primary 4C, “A class stubborn”?
I passed by the sign again this weekend and pointed it out to my brother. He wasn’t fascinated by it like I was. He dismissed it with a wave of his hand and said, “He probably just comes and beats up the child.”
P.C. Peace couldn’t be that crude or unprofessional.
It’s not like when you call him, he’ll say, “I’ll be there in one hour with two whips and a strong cane. Or do you want the premium package?”
While you’re wondering what the premium package is, he asks, “How old is the child? I don’t provide services for children under five, but business has been slow, so for you, I will make exception.”
Then he explains, “The premium package? For 200 naira extra, I will bring a bucket and pour water on the child. You don’t want? How about 100 naira? 50, last price?”
Does he offer specialized services?
Can you call him and request: “Pee Cee, my child is sucking her thumb. Can I get the deluxe thumbsucker package?” (That comes with paper tape and ground pepper)
Or “The boy wants to study acting, what can you do to make him study law or medicine?” And P.C. will show up with handcuffs and a toothbrush. (Don’t ask, just give him the child)
At the end of the service, he returns your now docile child with a receipt and a bumper sticker that says:
“A child no longer stubborn. Courtesy of P.C. Peace”