Frankly Speaking… By A.A. Fenty
The culture or thievery grows
If you were fortunate enough to have grown up with a sense of moral values; of knowing instinctively, right from wrong and with respect for laws that are reasonable, you certainly would not appreciate the tedium of having to be in attendance at the Georgetown Judicial District’s Magistrates Court(s).
It seems, nay it is manifestly obvious that those lower courts do attract descriptions like tedious, wearisome, irksome, tiresome and, yes, stressful. Okay, perhaps that’s because that was my personal experience at these courts for the better part of this year, 2009.
But no! Too many others have shared similar experiences with me. The thing is general.
I was just happy to merely pass that compound on Avenue of the Republic between Croal Street and Brickdam, never imagining that I would have to attend one of those courts some fourteen times between January and October of this year. Yes 14/15 times! I’ll return to that.
Mediocre, unkempt, shabby…
Except for the competence, sometimes sheer brilliance, of our legal minds who must inhabit those courts and corridors, everything else about those precincts reek of mediocrity, shabbiness and low-level lack of standards. There is a semblance of “security” as you enter the compound as an “officer” uses a scanner to ensure you have no object to cause harm to the learned magistrates, especially. But, my lord, the persons who frequent there, from the vendors’ outside to the touts, know of no decorum. The authorities should insist on silence or quiet speech to indicate the dignity and sobriety of Courts of Law.
Instead the precincts entertain a fish-market-like atmosphere. Ladies sprawl around; prisoners and other suspects bawl at the top of their lungs equally matched by some Court security and orderly voices. Supplemented by the Georgetown unrestrained traffic, one is sometimes hard-put to hear the magistrates and others within the decrepit courtrooms.
The smart attire of both male and female attorneys is in sharp contrast to the near-gloomy, once-painted court-rooms in Georgetown. That entire building cries out for a face-lift along with the enforcement of desirable standards of social behaviour in the compound. Yet thousands and thousands of dollars are made by the attorney – their fees – in those uninspiring “work-places”.
A morning at the work-place
Years ago, I wrote a piece titled “the supermarket of justice” wherein I argued that litigants get the “justice” they can afford to pay for. The better the lawyer, the better the chance of a better defence. And no I’ll not mention anything about money being passed for files or evidence to disappear. No that element of the supermarket justice will be ignored today.
Rather let me share other personal impressions a typical morning at those courts demand that there are late-starts. The overworked, under-paid magistrates – most seem to be under-fifty – are consistent with and in their late arrivals. Perhaps for good reasons (?) I understand that some magistrates from Georgetown “help out” at other courts far out of the Georgetown District! Persons attending court seem to be allowed to wear anything these days. Once a case is called expect it being put down to another date for a variety of familiar reason. (“Counsel is in another Court”, “one litigant is absent”; “the magistrate needs more time to study submissions”; One attorney is just holding for another.)
Don’t misinterpret me. My sympathies are largely with the magistrates who must regard those unkempt conditions as their work-stations. Magistrates are civil, learned lawyers who are officers administering the law. (Not all times should you expect “justice”.) They have legal authority but their work-load is terrible. I wonder if that work-load compromises their cool, calm interpretations of the law and their ability to pronounce fairly at all times (?).
One sees the common man and woman wasting days and days, energy and cash over silly disputes, petty crimes, as well as the much more serious. But by and large it is the small man – with or through his ignorance – who pre-dominate in those Courts, while young ambitious attorneys defend and present for the fees the silly poor man must find. I always contemplated the price of ignorance, in all its meanings, when I had to be in that building. My conclusion, however, is: like the prisons the magistrates courts are not places to be. (But then, even you could be wrongfully accused!).
Oh, my matter? (They call it just that there – a “mattuh”). I was claiming lots of house-rent from a former tenant. “My” magistrate ruled after many months. I respect his decision though I don’t agree with it fully. But who am I? I’m not learned in the law.
An emerging kleptocracy
Ignore this caption above. No I don’t think we are near an official kleptocracy wherein our rulers utilize our national resources only for their own exclusive good. If any mis-appropriation at the highest levels takes place, it has to be successfully subtle, oblique.
But the elements of kleptomaniac plunder now abound. Thievery and corruption are assuming endemic proportions in this little land. No institution of public and public-sector life escapes acts of weekly thievery. Institutional/Agency victims include the GPL, the OP, the MCC, the GRA, the GW Inc, the Republic Bank, the NIS, Guyoil, GPOC et al. Isn’t that list “impressive?!.
Look at the clerks, the supervisors, the execs, the middle management, the “technical officers “and accountants. Our own home-grown Madoffs and Stanfords in the culture of thievery. What does it tell us?
Ponder….
*1) A versatile mind endowed with creativity and sharp rapid humour. A close friend for nearly Four Decades. My buddy Ovid has passed on taking some of me with him. But then he has also transferred much of himself to many of us.
Staan good Ovid! “Those who live in the hearts of those who love them never die”.
‘Til Next Week!
(Comments?
allanafenty@yahoo.com)
