Editorial tiTbit– Nduga is an interesting character. He is multidisciplinary creative expert. His pen leaves you itching for more of his well weaved grammar. He is quite a master of verbal dexterity and literary expression. Nduga is a hyper blogger and avid communicator. This story , The Leicester Lady Lawyer is both a scintillating adventure story. For feedback go to our comment box under this mesmerizing story. Also email us at email@example.com.
Mitchell and I exchanged the looks that conveyed nothing even as the gaze went blankly, either of us knew each other’s thoughts. She was recently from the University of Leicester, with a PHD degree in law, a lady of cadre beauty, one whose accent was equally sexy as those of Midland (of the Shakespeare play), a look into her eyes through her clear glass spectacles told something – it was an unusual legal business. A general top down look of her physique sum it all, a lady of a blessed upbringing. Lawyer Mitchell!! With an official black tight designer skirt, the one whose hemline inched atop her knees thereby revealing some parts of the thighs good for the eyes, and definitely covering what the mind only could have imagined around the clock, noticeably, she got legs so fetish and sexy fresh enough to comprehend her career. Ms. Lady Lawyer. Intimidatingly beautiful: That was yesterday – 15 years down campus.
A male lecturer once got us in a compromising position just minutes away to his lecture, and I miserably failed his papers for my remaining semesters, I only had to pass them in my fourth attempt to sit for the papers long after he left for another prestigious university in the country. That was during the undergraduate studies.
So but for now.
For the first time in my memory, I wished we’d never dated in campus, with this lady, or the worse thought of ever joining a law school, worst, sharing a class with her and even a room at times -it was a no-fault separation after two year cohabitation. Maybe, she was sure enough of getting another man in Leicester. She was now a million times more beautiful as she then was mistress to me. Very beautiful woman. Possibly, the talk of the court corridors, in the magistrates’ and Judges’ chambers, and talk of the law firms, and the streets at large.
(It is all over media houses and the whole country is tired with a rotten judiciary)
It’s been one week plus days of serious paper work, and all the lawyers of Ngatia & Co. have been tirelessly drafting what best legal minds can, the affidavits, the defense, counter claims, and so many other as to what they went to school for, to defend their client, a judge of the Supreme Court -Justice Tunui, over an alleged bribery corruption by the City Governor in an election petition that the court had earlier decided in the favor of the Governor of Nairobi, Dr. Evans Kidero. Mitchell is one of the lawyers in this firm which doubles up as some of the best law- firms in the country. A firm of reputation.
While watching the 9:00 p.m news last night, from my apartment in Rongai, while taking my black coffee, I had knew which firm was to defend the judge, not that it was published anywhere but when a prominent lawyer of distinguished records in the aura of legal practice had assured the country that his client was innocent as never ever accused, I straight away had knew which firm the lawyer worked for. In fact, Mr. Ngatia is one of the senior partners in Fred Ngatia and Co. Advocates, and a prominent city lawyer that is known for his smooth way of articulating an issue in a cogent manner- a lawyer his temper most say is a rarity in public or private. Whatever I knew not was that Mitchell also worked for the very same firm. But to the gist of my wonder, ever since campus, where did this lady disappeared to? definitely she has not been in Kenya, for with the very few courts in Nairobi, we would have met many times or even more, within what atmosphere smelled legal. And how even did she secured a job with a top notch law firm in the city? An answer not a dime of effort to get. Once born beautiful,or when a lady can improve her beauty beyond the average limits of the provable beauties, nothing chains her success away from getting whatever she wants in any place she wishes to. And importantly, when she got some weighty papers of intellectual discourse. Brains and beauty indeed. But,
Irrespective of our last fifteen year departure away from each other, we still got egos, I would not allow the firm I am working for as a lawyer to loose this case. Reason,
Mitchell are amongst the lawyers from the other firm to defend the Judge, though she is one fine lady who my experience with as a lover, never takes academics for granted, admittedly, she was graced mentally upstairs than me. Her weakness is what I had sought to capitalise on. She scores poorly in handling confrontational matters (that I knew when she used to confront me on suspicion of me having another girl or some other ladies), and even with her eloquency one recently earned from the University of Leicester, and accent of Midland, she was a lady born to study anything nature could offer, and best, in my private thoughts, Mitchell would have really made one nice engineer or a doctor. Ever blessed with figures and naturally talented in scientific reasoning -the only lady who proved me that love is not only an art, her kind could rocket science it when not heartbroken, actually I never heartbroken her, neither I couldn’t risk for sure believe you me my readers, please. I believe, that she was by passion never spirited to be a lawyer -though she had now been educated into one.
And on my drift,
I wasn’t blessed with much, all my lifetime, God only blessed me with two things, words, and oratory. And when one of the lawyers who was to be assigned with the task of litigation got it uncomfortable with this particular case for reasons only known to him, though the firm had confided in him, he called me and requested if I wouldn’t mind taking the case, the opportunity to face Mitchell Yours Truly former Ex. lady in a court of law presented itself, all I said, was to thank the hell out of Kiplagat (the journalist who conveyed the $2 million or KES. 200 million from Governor Kidero to Justice Tunoi, hence, the legal battle!!!)
Shortly after a sigh, I left my complimentary space, and headed for my study room – to seal the legal loopholes that would be available. It was pretty much like a chicken feed, peruse of Chapter seven of the Constitution, Integrity, to question the judge’s demeanor, a little bit of the Economic Crimes Act, to question the alleged bribery scandal, a look at what expectations with respect to public interest in the general grand scheme in this matter, and the questionable character of all other judges. That, I would only discharge as an Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission lawyer. But also winning the case, to me, was something personal, as long as Mitchell was on the other side, it would be a kick below the belt when they properly could salvage the judge off the hook, line and sinker in this matter, thus, a scratch in the backbone. It was time time to prove the old unsettle love affairs in the discourse of legal intellectual euphemism.
A week after I had moved the court by a notice of motion, argued little bits of preliminary objections, the judge scheduled the hearing to commenced later on Tuesday next week. It was now evidently that despite litigating a public interest matter, it was narrowing down to ex-lovers; Leicester Lawyer Vs. Nduga & R Rayray.
In its perfect roots, it was a battle of the souls intertwined into filthiness of the Judiciary as corrupted with a steady diet of political smut in town. Battle of the Titans.
In its perfect roots, it was a battle of the souls intertwined into filthiness of the Judiciary as corrupted with a steady diet of political smut in town. Battle of the Titans.
The Leicester Lady Lawyer…
The court was ready, everyone was here almost an hour before everyone in the courtroom had settle, and by this time, 9:45 local time, lawyers, others from the Civil Society Movements -Africog, Transparency International, Ombudsman office- had occupied most of the front seats. Lawyers from Ngatia and Co. as much as their numbers plus their junior counsels were as well all in-house, and likewise, I, and others from the Ethics and Anti Corruption Commission were ready to take task of grilling the judge, Mr. Tunoi, whose now half pay salaried slip, and the Ksh. 22 million retirement benefit wholely anchored but for lawyers of Anti-corruption loosing the case to them. I stared at the the now 73 old man, the alleged corrupt judge, he glared back at me as I pretended to be preoccupied with matters but for him, which I considered serious in the umbrella of public Interest. Milimani Law Courts, was now getting fully packed as the clock ticked by.
Similarly, though not jurisprudential legal precedence in this case, 13 years ago, then Justice Bernard Chunga had found himself in the most similar allegations and claims as Justice Tunoi, a case which later painfully within the conveyer belt of the Judiciary, evacuated him off the bench. That was under the Judicial Surgery of the year 2003. In this case, as evanescent and sinuous as river Mississippi in the United States of America, or as nonnavigable as our locally River Nyando in Kenya here, my basic legal instincts had beamed a ray of hope that such a corrupt judge would definitely have to find a mandatory rest, retired and relieved early off his public duties. Something, which he was not ready any time sooner to relinquish. Even when the distrous Louisiana’s Katrina had to visit our nation within the codes of Leonardo da Vinci in the most unprecedented demonic way, the judge was not ready to leave the judiciary. Rather, seems, he’d chose to go Shekeless even when it meant hiring best legal brains but not to surrender his pride, and cover-up under the disguise of his ‘integrity’.
Court session was now underway, and after the opening statements, I proceeded, with the 73 year old man at the dock, then,
There got a rush of quietness as I made strides away from my seat towards opposite the dock where stood the judge, in my dark Bamuda blue,one buttoned designer suit, (actually one my Dubai cousin send me just last year for Christmas) I strived to lock eyes with the accused, with my left hand pocketed in left pocket of my trouser and right arm and hands freely to start the cross examination gestures that comes with a one week well rehearsed questions some really crafted in their best rhetoric manner slightly intelligent than Karim Khan’s ICC ones, when in final despair trying to salvage Ruto, Kenya’s deputy president off the hook, line and sinker of the Titanic Turmoil he is in. I start,
Lawyer N. Rayray: Mr. Tunoi, with all due respect as a respectable Justice of the most highest court of the land -Supreme Court, which very land I call mother land Kenya, I want you to tell the truth what could have transpired as alleged between you and the City Governor, Dr. Evans Kidero with respect to the alleged bribery that you admitted to accept the ksh. 200 million from the governor to influence the outcome of his contested election victory by his polital rival, Waititu.
He looks at the parquated floor, takes not more than about ten seconds before he carries his head up and from his large white eyes behind his spectacles, his eyes, like a laser beam, scans straight across the courtroom and in what seems from his facial expressin as to being startled, he looks at me again! He responds, but with a mute in totality. No words from him.
I am only 40, he is 73. I am the lawyer, one whose legal practice is of 15 years ever since I came from law school, definitely, he has judge, he has conducted countless trials of huge public interests than this that has now befell him, but it continues, I proceed to bounce the legal ball to him,
My mind hits 6535 mph, and there I go,
Lawyer N. Rayray: Yes my very senior most learned friend, Mr. Tunoi, I look at you, and believe me, I see a man in Germany called Reinhold Hanning, a 94 year old former Nazi SS guard at Auschwitz death camp. You and him are about the same range of age decade, if not set or group, what I can sure yes say is that you are all old, it’s not my pleasure seeing you standing there quite for along time than necessary, you really need to rest. And that just as Hanning yesterday, on the 11th Feb. 2016 had also to go through a trial, why should we too for the sake of your age though you being 21 year younger than him, keep the trial less than two hours.
Suddenly, the courtroom momentarily gets still.
I then for that moment shifts my attention to the court’s clerk who to my thought I think must have been under an attack with some stroke amid writing when his hands halt to a comma as his eyes bulge out. Whereafter, his blistering gaze seems to get crucified over slightly below my ears and above my shoulders which sends my nerves into the abyss of paranoia. But before I turn around to see what could it be, I hear a female voice send a chime echoe behind me.
“Sorry for the disruption and for interrupting the courts session while in progress with my lateness. Your honour(s),I am grately regretful. May I be forgiven…” Ms. Leicester Lawyer! Mitchell.
For her beauty…ever. Graced than ever.
Dressed officially in a knee-length skirt, shiny black imported designer pant, on top wore over in a white sleeveless top was a half-blazer, half coat, but the general dressing was ‘official’, uhm, it struck my mind, yesterday as I watched the American election primaries, Hillary Clinton, was in the very same style of dressing as Lawyer Mitchell now, ooh, this lady kept trend, indeed, with some of the most influential world’s women of brains and beauty, when it came to public outlook. Regarding reputation. At all cost, with all her life and resources. She was attractive and looked to be about 38, this woman, I tell you, and believe you me for once, was healthy with a semblance of an unembellished beauty and genuineness that radiated from within her inner soul, the true confidence that come with that class of womanhood. A true African angelic damsel. Naturally striking personal beauty. She suspended every man’s ‘head’ quite for a good time as she went for her seat.
And I too, she got me suspend my ‘head’, every right thinking man’s head went afloat.
My memory flashed back, to nearly fifteen years ago, while when I was still the man she loved, and the last time we had our very last sensual kiss, before we eventually broke up due a little misunderstandings that bred a distrust between the two of us. While back then in law school, she had accused me of having an extra courtship sexual affair with a lady who then was a first year. Her accusations were as partially truth as equally lies. She had only suspected. But she dumped me without ever proving them. Basically, she had put me on the task to prove to her my innocence. As you know, proving such an innocency, would be something mystical, and, fictional. I was not blessed in this department. And that’s how she left me for another man, albeit, contented with my solitude state she left me in. Kenyan ladies.
All the five member judge bench, seemed to have noted an unusual relationship between Mitchell and I, all their eyes had crisscrossed on the two of us. Even the accused judge now in the dock, sighed abit. Then, were journalists, their cameras circled, the lights from the flashbulbs got reflections as they bounced along the walls of the courtroom. Now it loomed a game changer. No one new, but even if any, it was only Mitchell, and I. The unsettled past love grudges. This case had a presented a final win-loose scenario – nothing like win-win or loose-loose. Therefore, it was,
LEICESTER LADY LAWYER VS NDUGA RAYRAY.
(A huge case within a bigger case)
But then as any reader and thinker can know, the conventional rules and principles guiding humanity, more so, men and women, in a social environment, and especially, one like this where utmost seriousness is now required, is that, the inescapable universal truth, in an environment where exists middle-age men, an attractive young woman always draw eyes and minds away from the work at hand. It was a mixture that drew every kind of reaction in the courtroom.
It was now 10:23 a.m, but reasons best known for the judges, they had decided to adjourn the court for a ten minute break.
Detective Isaiah Karanja, 63, a former practicing lawyer who now had decided to settle for a more respectable profession, of being a detective. Isaiah, unlike others of the rest of detectives in Nairobi, with much canny behaviours, he is a calm, collected and somehow poses a kind of sinister traits. His double layered chin tales you something more to this man, he rarely blubber with words. Isaiah only observes, a lot. And today, like the rest, he only came not as a detective or someone in an official capacity to relay evidence in court as is recent daily routine nature about his life, he came just as others, as a public member to form part of the general court audience. But even still, while sitting back at the courtroom, his keen observatory nature in his civilian attire and casual looks, were still at its best.
I felt a hand tap my back.
“Hey, Mr. Nduga, great work,” he motioned closer “But I must tell you, though you must treat it confidential, okay? The defense lawyer, the lady…” Which I grinned, to make him comfortable with me “…I am more than sure I saw her with one of the five member judge bench in some private motel, along the outskirts of Nairobi, last night in the course of my duty, it is also rumoured, that she is having an affair with one of the top men in state house (a man also a business associate with the governor) who got much conflict of interest in this case too, and you too, or whoever your boss, must be in some imminent danger!And, if not the influence of the very same accused judge, she would not have gotten herself working for the law-firm she works for (reads her CV-referee)” He swiftly then disappeared upstairs to one of the offices, and took too long never to return back.
I felt my my mind rapidly dangle, ‘whoever tells the best story wins the case’ would not be exception here. I joked, it is whoever is romping who… or whose side got or get those blow-jobs at night, wins the case. A case of a three – fold retrospect love in a court of law. One point she was mine, back in campus, a top man from statehouse is also having an awesome share with her, presumably, she and the judge, could be knowing each other too nakedly (read the CV), even one of the judges right now there in the bench – could be encircled in this every man for his share drama. Some cases though, can unite people people, save for their perverted past and present records.
For her little black box (encrypted data) I knew about her,
It was in 1990, when she was about 14 years, then staying with her mother and ‘foster’ father, in Umoja Estate in Nairobi. Incredibly, it was the forsaken and constant feuds between her mother and foster father when one night, her fostered father, amidst accusing his wife for having born a child who resembled nothing close to African, she Mitchell – she looked partial Asian, and therefore bludgeoned her mother to death.
Hypnotically, seeing her lifeless mother lying down there, she moved to the kitchen, and picked a butcher knife, came back with it and headed straight to the bedroom where now had slept the drunk father. Workdless, she stabbed him in the back, again, and again. The father cried in pain, and tried to jump over, but as if getting some demonic powers, she felt her energy increase, and again, she stabbed her father until the apartment now felt quiet.
Neighbours came, called the police, and little Mitchell was arrested, taken to juvenile’s court and prison where she was only in for about a month. The judge having looked at the circumstance of the events, was left with minimal alternative penalties. Her lawyer had then argued that her then still being a minor, could only be convicted to the benefit of the least severe of the prescribed punishments for such an offence. And even in his closing submissions, Lawyer Fanuel Otieno, had asked the court that Mitchell, seemingly, was a victim of an endless matrimonial disagreements thereby rendering the little girl the subject of psychological effect, and emotional trauma. So even when there was a much compelling evidence as adduced with forensic evidence that it was her who indeed had took away the life of her father, she did that under the psychological imbalance beyond her immature mind. Apparently, what the general public did also never know was that, Lawyer Fanuel Otieno, was also Mitchell’s mother other side – man, clandestine man. And it was Fanuel, who later assumed the responsibilities of the little girl, took care of her, educated her until high school, Moi Girls, Eldoret. Lawyer Fanuel Later died in a grisly road accident along Nakuru – Nairobi Highway. His Audi car went into full wreckage on a head on collision with an on – coming petroleum trailer that headed for Uganda.
Asked whether she had intend being a lawyer, Mitchell once told me, “No, it was not my dream.”
So the now modern Mitchell from Leicester was just a replete in retrospect of her mother, having one man was something close to impossible, and that it was her past life that had now triggered her fully into the legal profession.
And the court resumed,
Two of the judges were tipsy, I could see, and others murmured… (To be continued).