On the beat with Nunavik’s own police force

MIRIAM HILL

KUUJJUAQ — There are almost no people on the streets of Kuujjuaq this Friday evening.

Those who are out either have their hoods pulled tight around their faces or are madly waving their arms.

“It’s probably the flies,” says Const. Jonathan Epoo of the Kativik Regional Police Force.

He rides alongside constable-in-training Maxime Tremblay in the force’s Ford Explorer, while Epoo gives direction. The flies, or mosquitoes, arrived in mid-June.

The sun is just beginning to go down on what has been a warm day, and darkish clouds loom on the horizon. Epoo and Tremblay are the only two police on the road tonight. Their shift began at 5 p.m. and within an hour they were called to the scene of an all-terrain-vehicle accident.

Tremblay explains that a woman fell from the ATV and hit her head, which bled profusely.

“But it wasn’t as bad as it looked,” he says. Epoo has worked in the town since March and says the number of calls they receive on a Friday night can vary from none to the line ringing all night long.

Because they’re in the vehicle, any calls to the office are being routed to radios they wear on their belts.

‘‘Go stop them,” Epoo exclaims suddenly, gesturing to an ATV with three young female passengers.

Tremblay turns the Explorer around and races after the girls. He makes the siren emit five short bleeps before the girls pull over. Epoo exchanges a few words with the driver, who was sitting with one girl in front of her and one behind.

“I thought the driver’s view might have been obstructed,” Epoo explains, as the three drive away.

“You see a lot of different things and yes, sometimes it’s hard to leave it at work, but you’ve got to be able to handle stuff like that.”

– KRPF constable Daniel Epoo, on the pain of dealing with suicides

The 20-year-old constables sport stereotypical police moustaches. Both grew up in Kuujjuaq, though Tremblay still attends college in Trois-Riviéres and only works with the Kativik police on his summer break. Knowing the people he may have to charge with offenses doesn’t make any difference, he says.

“I know all of the faces in town and I’ve probably talked to all of them at least once” he says, admitting working in law enforcement has shown him who his real friends are.

Epoo says the majority of incidents they deal with are alcohol-related. The Surêté du Québec, the provincial force that resides in offices just next door to the Kativik police force, mostly handles drug busts.

Safely taking charge of a situation where people have been abusing alcohol is all about respect, he explains.

“Just show them respect and they’ll show it back,” he says. “You’ve got to know how to hold back a lot of times.”

But if things do get out of hand, there’s a 12-gauge shotgun mounted on a rack in the Explorer, just above the constables’ heads.

In addition to the plastic gloves, knife, and handcuffs that Tremblay sports, Epoo also carries a nightstick and a small can of pepper spray on his belt.

Yet it’s not the confrontations encountered in his job that affect Epoo the most — it’s the suicides.

“When it’s people you know, people you see every day,” he says, his voice softening. “You see a lot of different things and yes, sometimes it’s hard to leave it at work, but you’ve got to be able to handle stuff like that.”

The truck drives by a little boy, who waves from the side of the road. Tremblay returns the greeting.

“It’s not just patrolling that we do,” Epoo says. “We try and work at prevention, too,” which includes talking to people about dangerous actions and more senior staff visiting schools.

“There’s the big pile of wood for the fire,” Tremblay says as he drives back from the dock area of town. The pile of scrap was to provide fuel for a bonfire in celebration of Canada Day, but a death in the community resulted in no official marking of the day.

Epoo explains the bars were closed, too, out of respect for the man who passed on.

The evening’s activities usually get busier between 10 pm and 4 am, but tonight Epoo says, he has a feeling it will be quiet one.

“Maybe because of the mosquitoes,” he says again, and laughs.