Seeking Justice

Part Three of Three - A Funeral, Tenacious and this.

Since the death of her husband, Mama James had been tossed out of her house and life had become much more difficult for her. At least she had a roof over her head, funded in the main by the two animal identification books she had sold me.  She secured a work experience job that while it didn’t provide her a wage, she at least had something to eat because her work was in a bulk maize and beans business. Mama James remained steadfast in her belief in natural justice so intended to win back her house!

She begged to be heard by a group of village elders over what amounted to the theft of her house by her mother-in-law. I hadn’t much experience in local dispute procedures at the time, so I didn’t know that the modern protocol was to apply to the village chairman. However sometimes a group of elders used their wisdom of years and sometimes the dignity to help to resolve problems or disputes, but by my reckoning Mama James had little chance of success because of her tribal connections to the Chugga! The elders she was seeking help from were all Maasai men and she was up against a strong Maasai family!

Mama James spoke to each elder individually seeking a forum of six, but they colluded, and refused to meet her until she supplied ten kilogrammes of beef and four crates of beer! Of course Mama James had no money, so she came to me to ask for help. I was learning fast that you just don’t leap into handing out money willy-nilly for random issues, so I told her I would think about it and she should come back in a couple of days. There was the issue of my boss, Big E being implicated in the house confiscation to think about, and I wasn’t at all hopeful of a positive outcome for her.

I decided to give Mama James the money, and warned that I thought she was unlikely to win. I felt sorry for her circumstances and by showing support to go through the process, she might just realise that the battle was lost and allow time for James to gain more years. The elders met and Mama James stated her case, but they refused to give a ruling because they wanted Big E’s sister and Mama James to face off in another meeting. Of course, they would need another ten kilos of beef and four crates of beer! I’m a believer in choosing battles that I’m likely to win, and these guys were taking Mama James for a ride, but the sad eyes and imploring managed to wheedle more cash out of me! All to no avail, they ruled that the house should remain with the Maasai family.

Mama James wasn’t prepared to drop the matter! Thinking about it, I don’t blame her because on one hand the house was rightfully her’s and on the other hand, third world or not, surly there must be justice. She informed me that she was going to take the case to the courts. I had no knowledge of the court system, but it had only been a few months since Missy had engaged a lawyer to sort out a problem she had been facing and before taking the case, he demanded sixty thousand shillings! She paid the amount and never saw him again!

Here we were again, Mama James requesting financial help, this time for a lawyer. Maybe I should have seen him myself, but my Swahili was still only gibberish and I hadn’t learned the way things were done locally, and maybe I shouldn’t have given her the money, but we had gone so far, it didn’t seem right to leave her in the lurch. Well at least the lawyer didn’t run off with the money, which was a good start. I hadn’t become used to the principle of prepaying for a service and in my later dealings, I didn’t!

Somebody travelling with me had pointed the magistrate out, so I recognised him straight away when I saw him sitting with Big E in his bar on the Sanawari road! As I walked past I could see that the food had been laid on and the Konyagi was flowing! I knew then that Mama James had lost the case! Apparently the lawyer Mama James had employed did his best, but the magistrate was severe on her and didn’t allow her witnesses to speak, nor did he allow her the right to speak her piece. Anything the lawyer said was inadmissible, so she lost. The court notes were translated for my benefit, and clearly justice had been corrupted.

It took me several years to make a return to Sanawari, and in a way it was a pilgrimage. I found Mama Baraka sick with breast cancer and having no follow-up treatment after having a mastectomy. Big E was looking old and the worse for wear. Mama James had her own thriving business buying and selling beans, and because she had at last, given up on the house, she was allowed back in Mama Baraka’s house. James was back home, being educated locally and was safe too. It was arranged that the next day I would meet them both at Mama Baraka’s house.

The old familiarity came back, I was comfortable with Swahili and the customs so I took sugar with me and some fresh-cooked cassava. After seven years, Mama James was just the same and happy with it. By the cut of her cloth, her Chugga business sense had rewarded her. James had grown to a tall, handsome young man and had retained his politeness and ability to converse. A credit to Mama James.

With me I had two books, one on East African mammal identification, and one on bird identification. I handed them to James and asked him to open the cover. Mama James’ inscription was still there, with my name on it, ‘A gift from Mama James,’ it read. I told him that the books were his late father’s. I had added my inscription, ‘This book now belongs to James.’