14 October 2008
opinion
Lagos — Monday: Horizontal Inclinations
There are some things that change your life forever.
One of those 'things' is a picture of a Judge in his robed majesty, straining to see over the Bench. This singular de-horizontal fact overpowers all semblance of fierceness, dignity strength and nobility.
As someone who is described as 'short' by evil mouths and detractors who catch me without my customary heels, I can empathise with His Lordship. I am in court 2 and the judge is trying hard to see the witness who has similar horizontal inclinations. Every time he wants to clarify an issue, he bends over the bench, leaning on his elbows and almost spilling his inkpot. Unfortunately, I am not the only one who's noticed the comedy, and even the short witness smirks.
Lesson to learn: if by some impossibly, unlikely chance I get to play Judge and Mistress over all with no corresponding size inflating miracle, the first thing I 'shall' demand - before a new silk gown - will be a customised chair. It will be the plushest ever, with legs at least four feet high so everyone has to strain to see me. No straining for Judge Rookie-Diva.
By the way, His Lordship seems oblivious and betrays no emotion.
Tuesday: We're paid to fight.
'Mr Muktar, as much as I appreciate your position, I'll have you know that my clients pay me to win and not to settle!'
He ends his line with what sounds like a bang on a table, or maybe it was a high five to one of his fawning associates.
Muktar is on speaker-phone with SAN-hound (counsel to plaintiffs suing Tobacco Manufacturing Co. for letting their clients buy cigarettes which may have caused lung cancer- 'may' because I am a lawyer and I'm paid to sway the 'may' to 'did not'). We are trying to work out a settlement between our clients rather than a protracted court case.
'I wonder if your clients know what we are offering'.
'It is of no business to you. We are ready to fight'. He sounds like a scene in a part 3 of a bad Nollywood movie.
Muktar is playing cool negotiator while texting on his blackberry; SAN-hound sounds like a bristling teenager. I am amused and taking notes and wishing I had a blackberry.
Wednesday: Seniority is Right
There must be something about a senior lawyer who looks at you straight in the eye while making no sense.
It's a bail application before a High Court Judge. The applicant is a prominent chief who is accused of stunts that will put all the Yahoozee boys to shame - in legalese, 'false misrepresentation under s. 419 of the Criminal Code'. Since the law presumes his innocence even though he was caught while attempting to transfer from a Cayman Islands account, he is entitled to apply for bail.
Senior is asking for bail on self-recognition and his bluff is believable as he persuades the Judge. The new wig from the Ministry of Justice is reminding the court that the chief acted as surety for another person who disappeared after bail was granted a few months ago.
Chief got the bail.
Thursday: I assume you actually went to Law School?
'This is ridiculous. I assume you actually went to Law School?'
Her Ladyship is obviously upset and with good reason.
The affidavit is poorly drafted; wrong pronouns, bad grammar and innumerable spelling errors. It's as though the lawyer made a conscious effort to break as many rules of grammar as he could and pointedly ignored the squiggles Microsoft is so kind to provide with Word.
I had made a similar (though less forceful) remark when I saw it on Monday. It was an affidavit in support of a motion to amend a statement of claim.
Counsel is stammering and was making a bad attempt at explaining why 'notice' has a 'u' and 'honourable' is spelt 'honoriabl'.
Surprisingly, the motion is granted.
Her Ladyship must have a good heart.
1.34 pm
I am back at work.
Right now, I'm writing to inform a client in respect of a name search for an utterly ridiculous name for her hotel- Resthereverywell Ltd. Plain-short will edit and sign through before we send it to the final consumer, along with the bill of charges.
I remember to reply to a text I received from a friend of mine on Monday. I send an email instead and steel myself for the expected round of 'where have you been's.
He replies immediately. Friend rescued. You'e got to love technology.
Prof. comes in to my cubicle. She seems distracted and asks if I've seen Ghandi around.
'I think he's in the library.'
'Ooh' and she goes to her floor - not the library.
I smell something or my wild imagination's going into overdrive again.
Friday: Voltron
Posh-Tall and I take the lift upstairs together. She's friendly and actually smiles at my 'How are you today?'
Just before we part at the lobby, she mentions an intellectual property related matter.
Client is accusing a film producer of using her play without her permission. According to her, she gave him her manuscript last year but he had dismissed it as unsuitable. She was however shocked to hear of a movie by the same producer with her story. She seems sure that it's the same story with basically the same dialogue. L.T is doing it pro bono.
1.32pm: Voltron!
Posh-Tall and I meet with Clara, the playwright.
She is smallish but very confident. She studied English at the university because she has always loved to write and works in a NGO. She re-tells her story clearly. When she confronted the producer, he dismissed her and claimed that he already had the script three years ago. She wants justice and we finally get to play Voltron.
(*insert signature tune*)
The defender of the universe!
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