Wednesday 8 July 2015

A DAY IN COURT

A day in court

I did get a court bond to appear as a witness in a case. Working in a private mission hospital, I thought all along that the job of appearing in court only applied to doctors working in government hospitals. I had to go, skipping a bond can call for a warrant of arrest. I had been called upon to attend court cases before as an expert witness and never had to testify because the cases would be moved to other dates due to unavoidable reasons. My work would always end at the prosecutors office and not at the court house.

I left my house at 7a.m, so that I can be in court at exactly 8.00a.m. I guess I was being paranoid, Kenyans don't really mean the actual time they indicate in the particular summons and memos. I realized that I had arrived an hour earlier than all officers working in the court. So I burned time in the car browsing the internet for more than an hour and regretting why I had not left late after completing a ward-round.


At around 9.30a.m I entered the court house and yap, sat on the wrong side meant for prisoners and offenders and one police officer politely informed me to move to the opposite side. The court was packed to capacity, at one point I thought that I was in a packed Chaaria Probox Matatu. We were all squeezed in together.

I thought court was a very serious affair. I had previously attended court at Milimani Law Courts in Nairobi in which the Grand-Mullah was a lawyer to one of the parties( I don't know law jargon so forgive me). The court was conducted in a very serious manner and I didn't understand a word in that particular case because it was all about 'mentions', 'petitions',  millions of shillings in bond etc.

Back to this court, the judge entered and we all stood as per protocol. Did I mention that the judge looked quite handsome and neat?(I might get divorced for mentioning this, haha). I was so respectful of the house of justice, so I sat quietly at the back,  switched off my phone and was careful not to cause any noise, even a cough. I didn't want to be 'thrown in' incase my phone rang.

The judge started going through the files calling each offendant ( are they called that?). There was a lot of comic and laughter in the cases. Here was a judge, who knew all common petty criminals by name, character and their common offenses. He would even bring in a joke in Kiswahili or Sheng' and this made me relax.  The same way I know my 'regular patients' by heart, is the same way he knew his 'boys and girls.' At one instance he send a police officer to call one lady he had spotted loitering in the compound because he knew she would definitely be linked to one of the cases of the day because she was a 'regular'; and behold she was indeed involved.

A lot of the cases involved sale of alcohol without license, illicit brews business etc. 50% of the criminals were actually minors, to my shock and surprise. My case was called out and I stood, excused the court, introduced myself and politely asked if my case would be heard first as I was needed at work.

The judge was very very polite, he told the rest of the court to take a break as he went to hear my case in his chambers. We went in, I swore by the Quran. I was very uncomfortable to see a non-Muslim carry the Quran to bring it to the chambers. There are purity and cleanliness protocols to be observed before one can hold the Quran, which I'm sure they had not observed or were not aware about them; ignorance of the 'Quran protocols' is no defense.

The case proceeded well, cross examination was done on me which put me at an uncomfortable spot. I'm not used to confrontations. I was excused to leave immediately after my testimony(is it called that?). On my way back to work, I kept on wondering if I had given my all,if I had given the evidence to the best of my ability to ensure that justice is served. Again, it related well with my work. My paranoia and quest to do the best has sometimes made me go back to the hospital very late at night   just to make sure for example, that I have not left a tourniquet on a child's hand that could cause gangrene. Of course all the time it ends up being just paranoia. The driver kept asking me details of the case and I reminded him that my profession demands confidentiality at all times, even when outside the hospital.

Of course I swore never to attend court again because I live in a village where everybody knows each other. I'm afraid testifying against some people could put my security at risk, one has to be very careful when dealing with Murumes. Because of this I called the police officer involved and told him to never ever link me to a case involving issues in my locality. (Sometimes I feel like Santalal- the doctor actor in the Series 'Santalal' at Citizen TV).

So Judges, lawyers, police officers are just like doctors in so many ways. They do exactly what we do. I saw the judge writing down 'history' notes and I realized that we are not the only ones who write notes.  I'm sure they sometimes lose sleep due to work issues just like us. Law was always my second choice after medicine and I wonder what kind of a lawyer or magistrate I would be!