Hominem Te Memento: (Remember You Are Human)

It is sharp 9:30 am and my pupil master is still stuck in the toilets. From the separation wall, he yells at us to go to Court and to bring his stuffs there: Ok sir! However we all giggled across the hall thinking that our pupil master is obviously going through a panic attack before the start of the case.

We reach Court at 9:40 am without my pupil master but the magistrate is not there yet whilst the courtroom is packed. 9:50 am and there comes the magistrate Mrs Goggles! Everyone in the court stands up; even those who did not have seating accommodation just straighten themselves. The magistrate strides on the bench awkwardly as if suffering from chronic back pain. “That’s right! Take your time sweetheart. Justice can wait,” I thought. She has a look around and could not see my pupil master, so she beckons to the Court usher to call the case of my pupil master out of turn.

The accused is brought into the dock and he states that he does not know where his barrister is. Unfortunately, during our pupillage time we have no right of audience in Court. Meaning we cannot stand up and address the Court. Tempting as it may be! So I scribbled a few words on a piece of paper and pull the gown of the first barrister in front of me. The fellow seems offended by my action. He then ignores me and keeps fiddling with his phone. Gentlemen of the Bar huh!...? Bugger! I thought. So I tap the shoulder of the next barrister, a young guy who seems decent enough. I handed him the piece of paper and tell him to replace my pupil master. He stands up and reads the note:

• Hum…I am being asked to replace my learned friend who is…huh…un-a-voi-da-bly…de-tained by…by an urgent…huh…call of nature. He gasps whilst looking back at me bemused. I smile gratefully and mimic the words THANK YOU.
• Since you are replacing him we can start the case. The magistrate tells the young barrister coldly.
• Huh… no Your Honour. I am only informing the Court that my learned friend is on his way, replies the young barrister baffled by the Court’s proposal.
• Well, you are either replacing him or you are not and since you are on your feet I assume you are ready to take the case, replies Mrs Goggles grudgingly.

The poor guy is speechless for at least 15 long seconds, probably resisting a call of nature now. It is the accused who comes to his rescue:

• He is not my barrister madam….huh…my lord… (‘’Your Honour’’ I whisper to him)…huh your honour. I don’t want him. I paid the other one. He says.
• Oh you paid him. Didn’t you? Well he is not here. So you will have to look for another barrister, snaps Mrs Goggles.
• But I don’t have money to look for another one, says the accused in a protesting tone.
• It is not my problem. I am postponing this case for next Monday and if you do not come here with another barrister you will have to conduct your case yourself. And I want your Barrister to provide written explanations as to his absence in Court today, fires Mrs Goggles obviously on heat now.

It is then, that, as always I fall into my imaginary exchange with the Bench:

• May I…Your Honour address the Court, I hum.
• It is not your case Counsel. Sit down, says Mrs Goggles with a grimace I cannot yet describe.
• I am addressing the Court as amicus curiae Your Honour…a friend of the Court. I lie.
• Ye-sssss…pouts Mrs Goggles.
• It is in the noblest traditions of the Bar Your Honour (she probably joined the bench too early to know) to replace our learned friends whenever one has a predicament. We also do it as a matter of courtesy towards the Court and no to cover each other (in other words don’t shoot the messenger!!) I say.
• Yes what is your point Counsel. Hurry up! Says Mrs Goggles.
• My point is simple (I hope for you too) Your Honour. Barristers are rare commodities Your Honour…despite appearances... I say.
• JUST A MOMENT? Mrs Goggles now looks at me as if I insulted her.
• Indeed Your Honour they are as rare as a four-leafed clover. I say whilst smiling. Now everyone is baffled. Even the usher who was nodding off now sits up.
• COUNSEL!!!!!!!!!!!!.....Mrs Goggles is now turning green from what I think is rage from contemptuous remarks. But I interrupt her again:
• It is impossible for the accused party to get a Barrister in less than a week Your Honour and have the money to pay him on top of that. Even legal aid cannot do it swifter. And should the Court insist that he conducts his own defence he might be robbed of an fundamental right…that of being represented by Counsel. I say.
• You don’t understand Counsel…says Mrs Goggles.
• Yes Your Honour…Lawyers never understand anyway…

The things that lawyers know about

Are property and land

But why the leaves are on the trees

And why the waves disturb the seas

Why honey is the food of bees

Why horses have such tender knees

Why winters come and rivers freeze

Why faith is more than what sees

And hope survives the best disease

And charity is more than these

They do not understand…a smudge

• And they go on to become judges! I add emphatically.

At this moment, Mrs Goggles springs from her chair and run towards the door. The usher hardly had the time to scream COURT(!!) that she disappears in the corridors towards the huh…chambers (!). I can only hope that the trouble was not caused by my…huh…laxative speech. 

There exists of course no such magistrates or barristers in this jurisdiction.