Two Statements, One Accused

The Opening Statement: Prosecution

“Your Honour,

A great task awaits all of us

Calling upon us to right a wrong

And punish a prohibited act

This we do in this court

to find blame or otherwise,

to accord justice to the injured party

What an honourable task!

Your Honour,

The accused seated there

Armed with a wicked ingenuity

Misdirected artistry and knack

In cahoots with others, in a

‘most evil enterprise’,

Devised a computer program

That siphoned millions of money

From the accounts of thousands

Of hard-working, disciplined Kenyans

Working on the same egregious and abominable

Plan, they registered a company using false passports

Used the company as a conduit

To channel that money, not in a single moment

Struck by their consciences;

But true as a pin is to needle, the bell

Of their actions tolls for them, the bits and pieces

Have fallen into place, and what lay hidden

Has now been exposed and is now being tried in this

Honourable Court

Justice will be dispensed in this court

To put the accused behind bars

Your Honour, we will show in our evidence

That the accused committed various offences

And that he belongs to prison…”

The Opening Statement: Defence

“Your Honour,

If it pleases the court,

I wish to give an opening statement

As we have heard from the Prosecution

He says that our client, defrauded in a ‘most evil

enterprise’ through a well-calculated

Scheme using a computer program;

He says that our client committed

A most ‘egregious and abominable’ act

That fleeced Kenyans of their hard-earned money

The prosecution thus said

That they will adduce evidence to show

That our client deserves to be locked behind bars

That his actions don’t deserve ‘approbation’

But ‘opprobrium’

That much, the Prosecution said of our client—

Your Honour, look at the accused

A banker for 25 years standing

An impeccable record in the industry

A father of three, a husband

A Kenyan like any other who, were it not for this case,

We would not have known about

The eloquence of the prosecutor

To paint a picture of our client

Using the most arrant and sordid of terms

Brilliant as this could be, cannot impose guilt

As we will show, Your Honour, this is

A case of a disgruntled employer

Intent on leveling charges it cannot substantiate

Keen on tarnishing our client’s name

We will demonstrate to this court that

There is no nexus between the crimes

Alleged with our client

We will do this, one piece of evidence after another

One assertion after another, one argument after another

We will put the prosecution to strict proof

To reveal, Your Honour, that

In fact, our client never committed the said offences

and that this is purely actuated by malice…”

C) Lorot Salem 2011

Ten Minutes in Nine

As the panel sits, eyes burning on me,

Mounting pressure on me,

Demanding intelligence from me,

I stand there

Their marking parameters defined

Seven marks for content, seven marks for presentation

Two marks for etiquette, two marks for audibility, two other marks

For I don’t-know –what

I stand there wondering how I should stand

Like that reasonable ideal student

If my hands be at the back, I am hiding something

If my hands be folded on my waist, I am tense

If I let my shoulders broaden, I am being brazen

If I fold them across my chest, that is rude and not in keeping

I feel like to pocket but I let my arms rest by my sides

In short ten minutes, they uncover me

Throw questions to gauge me

One minute flash of my mind

Law of Contract, Torts, Criminal Law, Conveyancing

Succession, Commercial Transactions

Wait a minute…Giella Versus Cassman Brown

I think I heard this somewhere

They ask me for the principle it holds

The panelists aren’t serious, are they?

I am thrown off-balance, I am at a loss

I venture: Giella case is a landmark case in law

On Conveyancing, the case concerned a land transaction

Under the RLA…Now, Cassman Brown was the Owner

Let me use ‘Vendor’….Now, the principle, err, is on sanctity of title

As you are aware under section 143 of the RLA…

And as I mention section 143, I let it roll to exude my intelligence

And grounding on law

‘They are impressed’, I think to myself

Then my bubble is burst

‘Heard of restraint of trade?’ They ask

‘Yeah…err, yes dear panelists’

‘What are the three principles to be followed before granting injunctions?’

‘One, err, it depends on the time…if the court has time to grant it…

Two, if it has time, for how long will the injunction run and…and, three,

…whether it could as well grant mandamus, certiorari…but this depends on

Time mostly…you know there are backlog of cases’

‘They asked for it, I gave it to them’, I celebrate

‘Excuse me, student number 202809876, no hard feelings

But if you don’t know of the principles of injunctions

You could as well set off to Narok and be a herdsman

…I mean, you don’t know prima facie case?

Not even irreparable injury?

Not even balance of convenience?’

‘I know them, dear panelists’

‘Tell us, then, what a prima facie case is’

‘Well, a prima facie case is one which is on the face of the court

Let me explain, if that case, I mean the records, the files have been brought to

Court, then that is a prima facie case…if it is still in the registry, it is not a prima facie case’

‘Your time is up, student number 202809876,

We have serious doubts on how you qualified to be here…

You don’t belong here!”

I walk out, I see no one on the corridors

I hear distant voices asking, ‘what were the questions’

I am in no mood, I collect my books and head to

I don’t-know-where, it makes no difference

That a holiday awaits me

Image: google:dazzlejunction.com

C) Lorot Salem 2011

Float Like a Butterfly….



Image credit: google: allposters.com

Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee

So Muhammad Ali, the great boxer, once said

In my mind I can see the butterfly

All merry, the wings, the colour

It is there in the boxing ring

The crowd is roaring, urging on

Some covering their faces, the pressure is mounting

The bell is rang, the stage is set

Inside the suffocating ring, the butterfly fights for air

But no one cares if the wings might drop

But float it must—

You see, that choreographed anger

Comes with a price tag

Those simulated invectives

Are a part of the scheme

A cover-up

Either way, beneath that anger

Lies much anger against the ‘arrangement’

Where the organizers of the bouts smile

All the way to the bank

So, float he will,

And he must,

Inside the ring, so many things could go wrong

Knocked-off canines, bloody noses, fractured cheekbones,

Bleeding ears, lacerated foreheads, raptured brain cells

But the crowd will cheer on

“Go on, Muhammad, go on, finish him off!”

Never aware of the pressure on the mind to concentrate

One micro-second of lapse to earn a blinding blow

One miscalculated killer punch to send one off-balance

One mishearing to earn a disqualification

They call this a livelihood, puts food on somebody’s table

I don’t understand it, I mean I empathize

Then after floating like a butterfly

It is the sting, it is that jab, it is that punch

Anger levels rise within permitted levels

“Go on, Muhammad, go on, finish him off!”

Assume, just assume for one moment

When I have rained blows on my opponent

I remove my gloves, look upon the crowd

And walk away, away from that assured glory

Press will write, “Mad Muhammad Muddles”

With that my boxing career is given a knock-out

With that headline, I am cast in bad light

Not even the hours upon hours of lifting weights count

Not even the morning run count

Not even the more than 15 years matter

My titles, my championship wins, my awards

Lose meaning

When I win, everybody else wins

When I lose, only I and I alone loses

But still I have to float like a butterfly and sting like a bee

Image credit: google: worldgallery.co.uk

C) Lorot Salem 2011

The Pseudo-Species

Image credit: as above

…Uvivu ni adui mkubwa

Wa ujenzi wa taifa

Kwani nicho kiini hasa

Kisababishajo njaa…

Break of dawn, the fleeting music of Maroon Commandos

Lilting from KBC idhaa ya taifa, rousing the nation

From slumber

Urging them to kick their blankets and hit the ground running

It is another dawn, another morning, another struggle

There is something in sleep, good folks,

In the morning that brings sorrow to men untold

Figuratively speaking, lethargy in contrast to the

Fast disappearing darkness to usher a new day

Isn’t it a demoralizing forerunner to the heralding sun

To lie horizontal to the otherwise vertical shafts of the sun rays?

Where is the pomp in the cowardly shield of sleep to the realities of a new day?

But it is not for me to pass a harsh sentence

After all there are “morning persons” and “night persons”

Each so different , of that we are on the same page

Night persons ploughing along late into the night

Eyes as wide-awake, nerves as elastic as a rubber band

Morning persons as dutiful as the Muezzin up as early as 3 a.m

Be that as it may, I have no grudges on these two species

There is a pseudo-species I need to talk about

The one that sleeps early, wakes up late

All day long he had been possessed with reckless impunity on time

No deadlines to meet, no goals to achieve, no failures to be afraid of

And as such, a day to him is a chore, a sickening ritual

Morning could as well be evening, end of day

Isn’t met with unfinished business, that feeling of

“Guilt” for disappointing an item in the to-do-list

And as such, at break of dawn,

the fleeting music of Maroon Commandos

Lilts from KBC idhaa ya taifa

Ewe ndugu yangu wee

Amka kumekucha

Kamata jembe na panga

Twende shamba

But where is our pseudo-species

To listen to the chastisement of Maroon Commandos

This message is not for our pseudo-species:

It is for those with the adrenalin rush to achieve,

He is not,

It is for those with deadlines to beat, goals to achieve

He is not,

It is for those with the spring in their feet and a poise in their heads,

He is not,

But again, this message could be for him

It worries me if they were 10 or 50 or 500 or 1000 of them

What nation will we have?

A nation of a pseudo-species, with pseudo-goals

With a pseudo-mission here on earth?

…Ndugu yangu kumekucha

Amka twende shamba

Jiepushe na uvivu

Tujenge taifa…

I want him to draw line in the sand today

And say, “Enough is enough”

Wring sleep in his hands and cast it into the sunrise

For it disappoints to see him

Cuddled in torn blankets in a shack

And never put breakfast on table

Yet there weren’t other ways of eking out a living

Than for him to cut through dawn to disentangle from poverty

There were no medals, in the past or now, for those

Who gave a winking glance to the glory of sunrise

…Uvivu ni adui mkubwa

Wa ujenzi wa taifa

Kwani nicho kiini hasa

Kisababishajo njaa…

Pseudo-Species, choose ye now

Either probity or derision

Exercise thy fair judgment

Lorot Son of the Hills has spoken.

C) Lorot Salem 2011

Sword

"Wherever your spirit be, Sword, let it stay close

As oft many a troubled one never perch

But let yours find home...a home in our hearts

Tony and I, and others"

Sword, we christened him

Tony and I, near Westgate Shopping Mall

A small, black-furred canine of a German Shepherd

Tony ruffled him, teased him even

And to protect his turf, little Sword barked

And advanced timidly to Tony

Chiwawa would have been proud

My love for Sword registered immediately

Never cared about the Japanese Spitz or the Bulldog

Or the Terrier

I remember how Sword could pose for photos

We could stand there and wait for the click

May be I could hear Sword interrupt,

“C’mon, buddy, click that thing…been wagging

My tail for far too long..”

One morning, Sword poo-pooed in the office

Well, in a small carton box

As we cleaned up, Sword would look on

All innocent, all repentant

May be saying,

“Folks, that was just a small poo,

Cheer up, that was not a honey-badger’s fart!”

Two months later, Sword dies

Tony and I take him to a post-mortem

We bury him together with his collar

All I am left with are his photos

And wonderful memories of him.

All pictures copyright by the author

C) Lorot Salem 2011