Hostile Takeover

Chapter Three

The ambience in the courtroom was eerie and commanding for Nolan. The last time he was in this room was six weeks ago, and he had seen his best-friend get dragged away to be held without bail to await trial. Now he was back, sitting uncomfortably on one of the nicely vanished wooden benches that stretched on the left side of the courtroom. The knowledge that he was one of the witnesses in the trial made him so nervous his heart shifted every time he thought about it, but at the present moment, he was more eager and worried about his dear friend, who had been in lock-up for six weeks.

‘Is he holding up alright?’ he thought.

He remembered what had happened in church the previous week. The scene came to him as though he was watching it on a big screen; his friend strolling in, interrupting the wedding, being hauled away violently.

‘Sta can do some dumb stuff when struck with desperation, he’s definitely not alright.’ he whispered to himself.

He shifted his eyes to the front. Sited at the right counsel desk was a tall dark fellow in a black suit and beside him was a lady in a black skirt and pale blue shirt, her hair was as short as Nolan’s. From this angle, he couldn’t see much of the two. Behind them sat Mr. Atsira Amol, with his fat bulk squeezed in a carefully probably steam-ironed grey suit, half his head filled with patches of grey hair. His line of site moved left-wise to the judge’s nest that was empty, then over to the left counsel desk. On it was a lady and a man. The man was Mr. Akebet Suseyi, in a beige three-piece suit and a dark shirt.

The lady was wearing a white smart shirt with a brown pair of trousers. Mr. Suseyi was the only presence that gave Nolan some comfort in the entire courtroom every time his nerves got the best of him. His eyes went on to the jury benches on the far left, a number of people were sitting not talking to each other. A mixture of youthful females, males and a couple of men in their forties or fifties. The squeaking sound of the doors turning upon their hinges made him turn back quickly. The Bailiff brought in a man holding him by the elbow. He was wearing a navy-blue two-piece suit with black lapels and a white shirt; One of Nolan’s best suits he had to lend out.

What he had been worried about was what greeted him. His friend’s face was a mask of bruises; the forehead, the left cheek. His right eye was so dark and swollen, his pupil was in hiding, his lower lip was cut and bloody. There was a long red line right above his left eyebrow that was partially overlaid by two strips of band-aid. Nolan felt a strong surge through his sternum that could have either been anger or grief. His friend’s only visible eye was a squinted cold stare to the front, and it seemed to blink a lot. He never turned his head to the sides.

‘Oh Arista, what did they do to him?’ Patra sobbed softly from behind in the arms of Aunt Maureen.

‘What … what did they do to him?’

Nolan extended his right hand and placed it on hers for a few seconds, then he shifted back in time to see Arista sitting beside Mr. Suseyi.

‘All rise!’

‘The Honorable Madam Justice Iynen is presiding.’ The bailiff uttered loudly.

The judge strolled in from her chambers through the door alternate to where the jury sat. She had on a long black robe and a bright Bob wig. She had a scary but awe-inspiring aura around her as she confidently walked to her desk and sat.

‘Be sited.’ She said, her voice warm.

‘This is case MF/HK/20/2024, Arista Loma vs The People, held in the High Court of Zambia here at the Kitwe District registry.’

She started…

‘As counsel for the people, we have Mrs. Ey Imela, State Advocate, and for the accused, Mr. Akebet Suseyi of – Suseyi & Semayi Associates.’

‘Is the state ready with its opening statement?’ she asked.

Mrs. Imela stood up and confidently walked to the front and started.

‘Hello, I am the State Advocate Imela and … I want to thank you all for your attendance today.’

‘I am expressing my gratitude because all of you, especially the jury, chose to be here today to witness and ensure that justice is served.’

She went on…

‘I am expressing my gratitude because there are a hundred other things you could all be doing right now, but instead, you had to be here, willing to sacrifice time and sit in a tedious trial to see to it that a man is brought to justice.’

‘This man is Mr. Loma, who has been accused of aggravated robbery among other cases. He has been accused of maliciously robbing The Noisiv Reserve.’ She paused and looked inquisitively at the jury.

‘Mr. Loma here walked into the reserve with what is believed to be a vest full of explosives around his torso, terrorized the customers and the employees and, through force and threat, managed to persuade the branch manager to open the safe. Mr. Loma fled The Noisiv with six hundred thousand kwachas in cash; all hundred Kwacha notes. She started pacing, looking at the audience, Arista, the jury and the judge as he talked. Some of the members of the jury seemed to be appalled by the state advocate’s remarks while others had expressionless faces.

‘Then he was apprehended and was made to appear before the court, he pleaded not guilty, knowing clearly the evidence against him. He was taken into jail without bail to await trial and during that time, he somehow managed to escape the custody of officers while in the sick bay assaulting one of them.’

‘They chased him around and caught him in a Roman Catholic Church disrupting a wedding. It is our civic duty, mine and yours, to ensure that citizens feel safe and secure, not only in banks and reserves or churches and weddings but in society at large. During this trial I am going to prove beyond reasonable doubt that Mr. Loma here is not only guilty of this crime, but a threat to society as well and therefore deserves a fitting punishment, thank you.’ She concluded and went back to her seat.

‘Defense!’ Justice Iynen called, not wasting any time. Mr. Suseyi stood, while at his desk he started,

‘Suseyi & Semayi Associates. As Mrs. Imela has stressed, we are all sacrificing time to be here so I won’t waste any of yours, but I want to tell you a story, a woeful story.’

He then walked over to the jury and placed his right hand on the wooden railing.

‘It is a story about a troubled, aggrieved, distressed and misunderstood young man.’

‘This young man is a victim of circumstance, and in turn a victim of a mind break. He has suffered all his life, socially, emotionally, mentally and physically in the hands of both poverty and Aristocrats.’

‘This young man had a loyal, hardworking father who worked in an unsafe environment of a particular company for almost three decades until he died on duty. He left behind a wife, a son and a daughter, suffering at the hands of impoverishment.’ He sighed wearily.

‘This particular company was supposed to provide certain benefits to this family as per contract but it never delivered. Six years passed of constantly going back and forth with the company, but this family never had the finances to file or even survive through a lawsuit.’

He moved away from the jury and faced the audience.

‘Six years after the death of his father, this young man lost his mother and his little sister in a terrible traffic accident. They were vending the streets selling tomatoes when a vehicle lost control at a curve and ran them over; it was a gruesome scene; they died on the spot. He lost everything, with nothing left, he fled the funeral home the day after the burial to hang himself on a tree right next to his mother’s grave; luckily, someone found him in time, neck around a noose, convulsing. From there he was taken out of town to try and disconnect him from the solitude. It was so bad he still has a few scars noticeable around his neck from the bruising of the nylon noose.’

The members of the jury shot glances at Arista with saddened faces. Nolan stared in despair.

‘But months later, he returned with the idea that, had his father’s former employer processed the due benefits, his only remaining family would not have been vending the streets where they were run over. Even after the death, the funeral and suicide attempt, the company still did nothing. So, with all the anger, the grief and a collapsing state of mind, he did the unthinkable and got caught.’

‘Are you admitting the guilt of your client, Mr. Suseyi?’ Mrs. Imela spoke.

‘Stating the facts of the case as they appear state counsel.’ He replied curtly.

‘Mrs. Imela, you are advised to refrain from interrupting.’ The Judge broke in.

‘While in holding,’ he continued,

‘This young man came to learn that the love of his life, the only girl he had ever loved, was pregnant with his child.’

The people were whispering through each other’s ears. Nolan could only stare, Patra was still weeping.

‘And … he also came to the knowledge that, in the time he had been away, she had been introduced to another man and was getting married in a few days, so he made a desperate move.’

‘This young man is Mr. Loma Arista.’

‘Put yourself in his shoes. I want you to consider the cause, what led to the events that took place. I want you to consider the root throughout this trial. I am going to make it my sole focus to show you that sometimes, the justice system should not only look at the product of the crime but also the cause, that the justice system should seek to remedy the illness and not the symptoms. I don’t ask you to disregard the evidence that will be presented against this young man, only that you follow this trial with an open mind and an open heart, thank you.’ He concluded and went back to his seat.