WHEN I GOT TO COURT THAT MORNING, the setting entirely contrasted with the image I had in mind. The Court premises were in apologetic conditions, not like I expected anything spectacular.
My lecturers had always spared some time to fill our ears with tales of the dilapidated conditions of the courts. We were told that the basic needs to make the court system function are largely unavailable, that the Judges are too few and therefore overstretched. That there are inadequate judicial divisions and Courtrooms and libraries are virtually patently inadequate. Proceedings are recorded in long hands in very hot and humid atmosphere.
The court is characterized by the furious taking of copious notes verbatim et literatim by the Judges, the forced and monotonous repetition by Counsel to ensure that the bench was recording accurately and then the constant interruptions by the poor, overworked and harassed Judges. Stationeries where available are inadequate and record of proceedings are most times inaccessible. There are no proper places to keep court records and exhibits. This was a sharp contrast with what obtained in even other developing countries where the Judges simply listen and take occasional notes safe in the knowledge that the court electronic recording system did the job for them.
I took time to study the court building. At the base of the building was a set of wide stairs which led to two sets of rear doors. In between the rear doors, was a wall decorated with the portraits and honors role of all the past Chief Judges of the State.
I shot a quick glance at them and hurried past to locate the Court Room. The doors opened to the inside into a large, rectangular entrance area, while the open area narrowed and led into the halls of justice.
The building itself was small, somber and cheerless, possibly built during the Colonial periods. I wondered why people keep accusing the country of lacking maintenance culture.
When I got to the Court room tagged Court 4, where the hearing was scheduled, I opened one door and walked into the huge courtroom in front of the rows of padded pews. I walked to the aisle and sat in the front row of the lawyers’ table and took time to examine the courtroom in detail.
Looking back, I surveyed the rail, or bar, as it had come to be known, which separated the general public from the area where the Judge, Lawyers and Clerks sat and worked. To the left was a long table for one set of lawyers, to the right was another. Behind the tables was a row of wooden chairs, then the bar with swinging gates on both end. The Judge’s seat was located high and lordly behind the elevated bench, the back to wall.
The witness box was against the wall to my left and to the Judge’s right. To my right, opposite the witness box was a long workbench covered with large docket books and stacks of files where the Clerk and Court Registrar worked. Directly behind me was the dock, where the accused person stands during the course of the trial.
The walls of the court room were drab and bare except portraits of the President and the State Governor and the coat of arms which stared down on the back of the Judge and on everyone in the courtroom.
Before the Judge was ushered in, the Prison authorities brought in some accused persons for the day. It was such a pitiful sight. The accused persons, totaling seven in number were herded through like cattle at an auction and shuffled into the courtroom. All wore the notorious blue on blue khaki uniforms and were all handcuffed, they were all young men looking between twenty two and forty years of age, such waste.
The first case for the day involved a young boy, whose age I guessed to be no more than twenty five. When his case was called, the accused was led forward by a bailiff into the dock, where he stood in silence. Some paper work was shuffled and then the prosecutors announced appearance and informed the court he had been arraigned at the previous adjourned day some two months ago, charged with rape and armed robbery. He was obviously unrepresented.
It still baffled me why some clients found it difficult to secure legal representation. When I started school, one of the things that we were informed was that the profession was terribly overcrowded, that there were too many lawyers and the cases were few. So the irony of some people finding it difficult to secure one for a case as a grave as rape or murder, still baffled me.
The prosecution asked for a date to enable them finalize investigations and also to enable the accused secure legal representation. The case was adjourned till the next month. Some paperwork shuffling went on again. Afterwards, the accused was handcuffed again and handed over to the prison guard obviously to be hauled off back to jail.
The second case involved a young man of similar age. He too was led to the dock by the bailiff. This time around he was lucky to have representation but unfortunately, his counsel was not in court. His own case was adjourned indefinitely while the Judge asked him to inform his lawyer to meet the court registrar subsequently and take a convenient date.
The next set of cases followed similar pattern, before the time my case was to be called up, six cases had already been speedily adjourned due to the one reason or the other.
The Judge was visibly incensed and vowed to make far reaching orders in the event that any other lawyer sought to obviate the course of justice by seeking unnecessary adjournments.
Just before my case was called up, the court room suddenly burst into life. When the court clerk announced the next case, and the lawyers announced appearance, opposing counsel stood up to voice his opposition.
“My Lord this motion was slated for hearing next week and I am surprised it was called up today.”
“Clerk why was the case called up today?” The Judge bellowed.
The clerk approached the bench and tried to apologize to the Judge in hushed tones, for the mix up.
The Judge admonished her and then turned to Counsel, “You Counsel why didn’t you say anything about it and you kept quiet?”
“My Lord, I am sorry. It was a mistake. It was just a simple motion and it was supposed to be moved today, the Registrar made a mistake with the date. I thought my learned friend would oblige us and not object.” Counsel said in a subdued tone.
“What do you mean?” The Judge asked, certainly not finding the whole thing amusing. “What do you mean by mistake? The date written on the motion is the correct date as far as the Court is concerned. Even if it was a mistake made by the registry, how come you failed to spot it for over two weeks after filing it? What do you think your duty is? To your client alone? Were you not taught that Counsel also owes a duty to assist and direct the court in administering justice? This is how you people conspire to cause delay and congestion of cases in court and yet you turn back to blame the courts.”
Turning to the rest of us, she barked, “Now let this be the last time this will happen.” This was typical Justice Ikeora, the legendary no nonsense Judge.
My case was next in the docket.
When the court clerk announced the case and the Judge asked for appearances, I found myself wanting to bolt from the courtroom. I glanced to my left and to my right and realized that his Lordship was looking at me.
“What have I got myself into?” I asked myself.
I was struggling to breathe normally as I tried desperately to appear unfazed. I knew I could not show any sign of weakness.
I stood up, adjusted my gown and goat hair wig and introduced myself, the Judge asked me to pronounce my name properly, while the rest of the bar managed a muffled laughter.
“Counsel, I doubt if we have met?” the Judge asked me.
“We have not My Lord” I replied, my words oddly dry and weak. “It’s my first day”.
The Judge was not ready to back down, “then I guess you are holding brief for your Senior, and you have come to take a date,” She sardonically quipped.
“Yes my Lord”, I found myself saying.
The Judge let out a wry smile, “Are you a lawyer or not?”
“I am, my Lord.”
“I am sure you heard my earlier remark, so let us hear your case.” She stated, with a note of finality.
I was totally unprepared. I was amazed at how little of the law I knew. The five years spent studying law was nothing but a period of profligacy and wasted stress. As students, we spent countless hours researching for information, buying and photocopying materials we will never need. We were bombarded with lectures and forced to copy notes that were instantly forgotten. We memorized cases and statutes that would ultimately be overruled. If I had spent only half of that time in a chambers training under a decent lawyer, I would have been a good lawyer by now. Instead here I was at the mercy of the Judge who appeared to show no empathy for me.
As nervous as I was, I decided quickly that this was the moment to establish myself. I had been the head of one the Students’ Law Chambers in my school; I had tried several moot and mock trials both at the University and at the Law school. So what was the big deal?
“Very well my Lord.” I said as forcefully as possible and attempted to do the case.
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