Wednesday, December 2, 2009

‘Cunny Man Die, Cunny Man Bury Am’

‘Counsel, are you sure you want to move this motion?’
Counsel is two seats away from me but that does not stop him from placing three legal dictionaries between me and the judge and four volumes of Sasegbon in front of the other lawyer next to me. Fairly enough, he can barely see over the law reports supported by a bulky file in front of him. I am far from upset at his intrusive obstruction since it nicely shields my novel from the bench.

‘Yes, My Lord. The matter is slated for hearing of our motion.’
The court is eyeing the lawyer’s threatening mini-library cum artillery. His Lordship tries again –

‘And you say it is an oral application?’

Everyone knows that prospects of an oral application are less threatening with implied brevity – in simple English: bring down the court’s guards by hiding the bulky reports under the table. Bulky Counsel seems clueless.

‘Yes, My Lord, it will take a maximum of thirty minutes’.
He just made it worse. Thirty minutes of writing is enough to terrorise any judge even on the day before a long weekend.
‘Counsel will file a written address. Matter is adjourned to ...’
‘As your Lordship pleases.’

On our way out, Bulky Counsel – Muktar – winks at Gloater and I. Muktar had gambled on ‘convincing’ the court to give him another adjournment without having to ask for it. Our witness had gone AWOL and the Court had threatened to dismiss our matter at the last adjourned date. With the witness still AWOL; Muktar filed some flimsy motion intending to withdraw it at the next adjourned date.

Lawyers are evil. Very Evil.

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