Hostile Takeover

Chapter Five

Suseyi prepared for his turn.

‘Your honor, I would like to cross-examine the witness.’ Mr. Suseyi requested.

‘Proceed.’ Madam Justice approved.

He walked towards Miss. Prunella Mubanga.

‘What made you believe Mr. Loma here may be a jihadist?’ he asked.

‘I think I already answered that question.’

‘Remind me of your answer please,’ Mr. Suseyi pushed.

‘He was wearing a Thobe, a Taqiyah and brown sandals on his feet, he had explosives, and he spoke a few sentences in what sounded like Arabic. All of which we both saw from the footage.’ Miss. Mubanga answered with a little frustration.

‘Is every Muslim a jihadist miss?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘I am just wondering because about eighty percent of what suggested jihadism to you was the fact that he appeared to be Islamic. The only other factors are that he spoke a few Arabic sentences and he presumably had explosives.’ Mr. Suseyi continued,

‘If he had on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans, but still spoke a little Arabic and presumably had explosives, would you have thought him to be a jihadist?’

‘Obviously not, because all the jihadists I have read about are Muslim,’ Prunella replied, now getting nervous.

‘But are all Muslims jihadists?’ Mr. Suseyi asked.

‘Of course not.’

‘So why wouldn’t you describe him as a Muslim who spoke Arabic and had explosives? Why did you jump straight to jihadism? Because according to you and I quote;

Jihadists are Islamic extremists who see violent struggle as necessary to eradicate obstacles to restoring what they think is Allah’s will on earth. They are not afraid of dying along with who they term ‘infidels’ as long as it fulfills what they believe is the cause; most of them pose as suicide bombers. Jihadism is like a violent subset of Islamism.

Have you ever heard of prejudice, Miss?’

‘You judged Mr. Loma beforehand and labeled him a jihadist, which is eerily similar to the definition of terrorism, are you calling my client a terrorist, Miss Mubanga?’

‘Objection!’ Mrs. Imela shouted.

‘Your honor!’

‘Sustained!

I advise the defense counsel to quickly arrive at a point and refrain from wasting time with this bombardment of questions,’ the judge spoke.

‘I am just trying to clear things up your honor, it is these small details that tend to thwart people’s objective reasoning when fed into their minds. I’d hate for the jury to go home thinking my client is something he is not all in the name of misrepresentation.’

‘Make your point and make it quick,’ the judge said.

‘Alright, let the record show that, and let it be agreed here and now that the law dictates that one is innocent until proven guilty and, therefore, my client shall not be subjected to the class of jihadists unless it is proven that he actually is a jihadist,’ Mr. Suseyi said.

‘Fair enough,’ the judge commented.

‘How did you know he was carrying explosives?’ Mr. Suseyi phrased another question.

‘Come on, this is absurd your honor we all saw it; we all watched the footage? Mrs. Imela interrupted.

‘I didn’t see any explosives, your honor, did you see explosives in the footage?’ Mr. Suseyi argued.

‘Oh, come on.’ Mrs. Imela shot back.

‘Order!'

‘Order in court!’

‘Miss, answer the question,’ the judge spoke.

Prunella looked at Mrs. Imela, then at Arista.

‘I think so.’

‘You think so, or are you sure?’

‘Have you seen any explosives before?’ Mr. Suseyi asked.

‘No, I haven’t seen one before but it looked …’

‘If you haven’t seen one before, how did you know they were explosives? He asked again.

Mrs. Imela was scratching her weave. Prunella couldn’t get a word out.

‘How did you know they were explosives miss?’ He repeated, his voice now getting snappy.

‘Well, they had wires and … and he said he would blow us up.’ She finally spoke.

‘Your honor, I ask that this trial be postponed until all the evidence is carefully examined by forensics. My client and I refuse to go on with this until it can be proven that he truly carried deadly explosives. This entire case is built on whether the accused caused imminent danger to parties in that bank. The case is that of aggravated robbery. How do we move forward when we cannot prove certain constructs?’

He looked at the jury, Mrs. Imela, then at the witness;

‘No further questions,’ he said and walked back to his seat.

Nolan could feel awe building up in him. He was certain most of the people in the courtroom could feel it too, the energy was everywhere.

‘As requested, it is only fair and just that we continue these proceedings when the examination of the evidence is concluded.’ Madam Justice spoke,

‘Court is adjourned.’

...

The night air was cold enough for a comfortable sleep, but Arista couldn’t shut his eyes. His holding cell was nasty, but he had gotten used to the dampness, urinal and excremental smells weeks back.

‘Tomorrow will be the biggest day of my life; defining.’ he thought.

It had been four days since old Atsira Amol and a rich-looking attorney had visited him; probably a company lawyer. It was an expected visit. After all, half the things were going as planned. Mr. Amol had looked sick and bitter.

‘Kids nowadays watch too much TV and read too many novels.’

‘Do you think this is a movie?’ The attorney, who had only introduced himself as Chuck had said.

‘It obviously isn’t, it seems very real,’ Arista had replied smugly.

‘What are you trying to prove little boy?’ Mr. Amol had asked.

‘Nothing, I just want mine. I have asked nicely. Now I’m asking a different way. I need my voice to be heard for a change.’

‘My father had been coming to your offices, countless times. No one was willing to hear him out, then he perished. My mother started coming on his behalf. She was turned away many times; many times, then her too perished. Then I picked up the baton. Do you remember when I came, sir? I begged like a dog, I begged for you to listen, for anyone to listen, to have sympathy and what did you say?’

‘This is not charity little lad, you said.’

He remembered vividly how the conversation had gone; how Mr. Amol had looked. It was a satisfying reminisce.

‘I bet you are ready to listen now, huh?’ he had asked.

‘What exactly are we listening to?’ Chuck had asked.

‘All I want is my case to be heard, my father’s work to be compensated; all his benefits released.’

‘Okay,’ Chuck had replied.

‘And any other victim of the company like me to be justified in the same way.’

‘Come on, we are willing to consider your case but don’t you get it twisted and think you are holding the cards here.’ Mr Amol had said.

‘Aren’t I?’

‘You think you can go against a company as big as The Noisiv? Whatever you think you have is nothing.’

‘If you really think so, then why are you here?’ Arista had started,

‘Let me tell you why. You are here because you want to negotiate, because you understand just how bad this is; just how embarrassing and crippling it is going to be. It will be a scandal that will take years to subside and the colossal Noisiv will not survive it.’

‘You know, the only thing that makes it better is my statement, and you are here to make sure I am satisfied enough to make it.’

‘And what assures me that when we give you that satisfaction, you will hold up your end?’ Mr. Amol asked.

‘You have no assurance at all, sir, it is a leap you are going to have to take, a leap like my father had taken, like my mother had made; my entire family, we all relied on you and you failed us. Question on whether I will fail you will be answered on the designated day,' Arista had replied.

‘Hold on, the statement you are proposing to give still puts the company in the limelight concerning your family’s story,’ Chuck had said.

‘It does, doesn’t it? That’s the whole point; shining a light on the Noisiv to expose some shadows. A lot of people have suffered like my family, they all must get what is theirs and for that to happen with surety, the law must be involved, and some deserving futures sacrificed,’ Arista had said.

‘But the Company’s reputation …’

‘This is not about the company keeping its reputation that ship has sailed already; this is about cleaning up its mistakes. Otherwise, I will be forced to remain quiet and find out how the trial goes, and I am pretty sure you do not want to find out. There are only two choices for you here; collaborate on my statement in court, or don’t. I am comfortable with either.’

‘Think of it as a lesser tragedy, you have made families suffer greater tragedies than this.’

Mr. Amol had left fuming and Arista had never felt so powerful. He knew it meant he would serve some real time, but he had already made peace with it. The nerves, though; they made his stomach knot up really tight.