The ScoreBoard

 

Back when I was a pupil my master had the newspaper cuttings of his winning verdicts on one side of the wall of his office. At first I thought; Wow, so poyo! But then as I grew older, I realized there are two ways to look at it. One, it was a reminder of how much further he had to go. Two, balm to aching heart because winning a case or every case is not a guarantee.

That being said, I had the privilege of fighting losing battles, the nigh on impossible cases which the only soothing balm was that most of the time my fees was paid in full. Privilege, not because I have heroic delusions of myself but because I see myself firmly in the shoes (or rather soles of) Diogenes begging from a statue- wanting to get used to rejection or in my case, losing so that when I win, it is all sweeter and I won two weeks ago.

It was a legal aid file so the fees were not that substantial. In short, it was a drug possession case, and the investigation was shoddy and I did my level best to attack the investigation from every available angle (missing dashcam footage, missing bodycam footage, important witnesses not investigated and more). Thanks to the brave and very fair Magistrate, my client was acquitted at the end of the prosecution’s case. I can feel my stomach unclenching when she pronounced the verdict. I was on my way out of the court room to use the men’s room to deliver a cargo when the court came into session. So I sat back down.

The final blow I delivered was something the Investigating Officer himself shouted out to me outside the court during recess, twice: the drug belonged to someone else and he as the IO knew it from the beginning. Was it out of repressed guilt, was it misplaced ego believing that I would not dare to cross exam him on that point, I do not know. All I know is that he volunteered the crucial information that led to the acquittal of my client.

His shouted confession caught me by surprise so much so that I had to call my boss and my mentor for their guidance. When recess was over and the court was back in session I tried to gently persuade him to tell the court what he shouted out to me- he clammed up. That, was the cue for me to turn the screws on him and turn I did. In the end he relented. Admitted that another person had made a confession that the drug was his and despite this the IO kept the spotlight of investigation on my client and came up with a lame one liner that the arresting officer’s version of events are more convincing than the confession.

I was not accustomed to winning due to the aforementioned nature of mine being the magnet of lost causes, so when the time came to leave the court with my client already sobbing in relief, I felt lost. Lost despite the win because I do not know how to console a grown man crying. Crying tears of relief no less. Do I hand him my kerchief? Do I tell him to stop because its unmanly while his wife is looking or do I join him in tears of solidarity? I was also lost because I do not know how to process the win. My very first criminal trial win, ever.

In the end, I pat his back a bit, shook his hand, the hands of his family members and made an excuse to leave. I remembered walking back to my car feeling elated that my client is now free and able to move on with his life. The relief came much later when I took a massive dump at home.

If the case is ever reported in the law journals, I’d have to save it or print it out and keep it somewhere within reach but not as trophy to be displayed but as my personal scoreboard.