"We came to do business this morning"

The crime of defilement in Uganda is the American equivalent of statutory rape. Coming before Justice Lugayizi Friday was an appeal of a magistrate court’s judgment in a defilement case.

A nine-year old girl alleged that her teacher had “raped” her. The girl, however, did not know what rape was, and a medical examiner found that rape had not occurred. The magistrate determined that some molestation less than rape had occurred, and declared the defendant guilty of indecent assault, based primarily on the girl’s testimony.

Justice Lugayizi must determine in the hearing if he will hear the appeal. This decision turns on whether or not the uncorroborated testimony of a girl “of tender years,” as Ugandan law phrases it, is sufficient to substantiate a conviction on the lesser charge of indecent assault.

Prior to the hearing, Justice Lugayizi’s court reporter indicated that while attorneys for both sides were ready, the defendant was not at the court (The High Court building, pictured above, is northwest of central Kampala). For this reason, the defendant’s attorney sought an adjournment of the hearing until the defendant could be present.

This is a common theme in Ugandan cases we’ve seen in our first week. An attorney was late for the first case we saw; in two others, an attorney failed to show up altogether; in another case, a witness was not present. When key figures are absent, the judge will typically stay the trial or hearing until a later time, and in criminal cases, there are no sanctions for truancy or absence. This increases the burden on the courts and stagnates proceedings.

This morning when the defendant did not show up because he was “sick,” the state’s lawyer did not object to the defendant’s prayer for a postponement of the hearing.

When Justice L asked the lawyers for both sides if the defendant’s presence was necessary for the purpose of the hearing, both said no. This didn’t please Justice Lugayizi.
“We came to do business this morning,” he said. “That is exactly what we shall do.”

Hell yeah.

When I asked Justice L if he thought the attorneys were surprised by his decision to proceed with the hearing, he said that yes, they probably were surprised. And lazy.

After the hearing, we discussed the merits of the case and whether or not the defendant’s appeal should be heard. Justice L mentioned that we might draft the judgment on our own.

Um . . . maybe, before determining the next three years of a man’s life, perhaps we should get some direction from the judge with sixteen years experience in the Ugandan courts first.

***

On Saturday, I stopped by his chambers (Justice Lugayizi, above, who has said I can call him Judge Eddie if I can’t pronounce his last name, dressed casually in his chambers) and discussed the case with him. The primary issue revolves around whether or not the girl’s testimony alone is sufficient to warrant a conviction, or if some corroborating evidence is necessary.

We will meet on Monday to discuss our impressions of the case, Justice Lugayizi will direct us in our thinking, and we will draft a judgment for his approval.

Business indeed.

Images of Kampala

Pics from Kampala.






(Top: Your standard wheelbarrow full of bananas. Second from top: the driver of a taxi van pulls into traffic. The writing below the door reads, "Licensed to carry 14 passengers." Sure, buddy. Middle: A mother begging for money at the window of a taxi van. Second from bottom: A mosque atop a hill. Bottom: Police officers on a street corner.) You can enlarge the pictures by clicking on them, I think.

Ripped from the headlines

When I arrived at the Commercial Court Monday, the first case of the day had already started. A distributor for Nile Breweries had evidently failed to pay for the beer it was selling. In the world of clerking for a court, this first case is the equivalent of a leadoff homerun. But as much as spending my time curing the injustices of beer distribution is a noble cause, there are more pressing issues that I will be addressing at the Criminal Court where I will be serving out most of my clerkship. Besides, it isn’t Bell Lager (as seen from my apartment balcony, above, standing guard over Kampala).

On Monday, the cover headlines for both of Uganda’s major newspapers told the story of a woman whose husband forced her to breastfeed his dogs because she had cost him two cows as part of the wedding dowry. The police cleared the man on Tuesday, claiming the woman was insane.

Another story’s headline in The New Vision read “Minister’s wife acid attackers unknown.” The pouring of acid on women is a relatively common crime in Uganda. Women who are thought to be unfaithful to their husbands often are victimized when acid is poured on their skin. The attacks often occur in public, sometimes by the people known to the woman. The extent to which these crimes are prosecuted is unclear. This woman emerged from a coma yesterday.

When I met with the judge for whom I will be working, Justice Lugayizi (Loo-gay-zee), he said that murder, defilement (statutory rape), and other less severe crimes are the kind we’ll handle in the criminal court. The two from Monday’s paper fall in to this last category.
Justice L seemed cool in the few minutes I spent with him. My first day working with him will be Thursday.

***

Corruption is prevalent here. Uganda recently established an Anti-Corruption Court, which is being hailed by many as a step forward in the country’s fight against public officials who embezzle government funds at the expense of public programs and citizens. The Independent, a magazine sold on the streets, voices the concerns of citizens in a “Letters to the Editor” section. This opportunity for Ugandans to freely criticize their government in press seems like a significant step in establishing more accountability for government officials, but there is evidence that the democracy following the conclusion of civil war in 1986 is being threatened.

In 2005, sitting President Gen. Yoweri Museveni rescinded presidential term limits he worked to piece together. That act coincided with his own term limit coming up. The National Resistance Movement, Museveni’s controlling party, is currently discussing proposed amendments to the Constitution that are believed to aid his efforts to retain power after the next elections.

The 2011 presidential elections will be a critical event for this country. Whether a new candidate will win and the current government’s reaction to that could be an indicator as to whether or not democracy can be sustained in East Africa.

Hooks and Dreams

There are lots of bugs in Africa. Ants, flies, spiders, cockroaches. The mosquito. All of these, of course, can be sampled in the states, but they pose elevated risks here, particularly in the evening. Which is why medication, particularly for malaria, is necessary.

Of the three reasonably priced malaria pills, one is prohibitively more expensive than the others, so most people choose between either mefloquine or doxycylcine. The former is to be taken once a week and its potential side effects most famously include vivid dreams or nightmares. The latter is a daily pill that makes people hyper-sensitive to the sun. Given that I’ll be hanging out on the equator for the next two months and I don’t exactly tan well, I rolled the dice on the vivid dreams.

So if you’re keeping score at home, when I go to bed, I’m worried about potentially disturbing dreams and being attacked by disease carrying bugs that treat my body like the Bellagio buffet. That’s a pretty solid 1-2 punch.

As an added defense against the bugs generally and malaria specifically, mosquito nets are employed and credited with preventing hundreds of thousands of deaths annually in Africa. So my roommate and I each acquired mosquito nets. His was already hanging from a hook drilled into the ceiling. We had to find a hook at the store for mine. I found one of those plastic jobs with adhesive backing. Its packaging featured exclusively Chinese writing, which makes a lot of sense in Uganda.

Either way, it stuck to the ceiling and seemed to support the weight of the mosquito net. I even added reinforcement from some scotch tape I found. Shane 1, Mosquitos 0. It’s nice to go to sleep only facing the prospect of vivid, potentially horrifying dreams.

* * *

A few minutes before 1:22 a.m., the net attacked. I don’t know if it was the deteriorating adhesive, the growing humidity, or a giant insect assault, but the net came down, trapping me.

I screamed. Loud. Like a girl. I felt like Spider-Man shot me with his web. I didn’t know where I was. I didn’t know what had happened. The more I flailed, the more tangled up I became. It took me a good five seconds to figure out that the net had fallen, and even then, I felt like I was covered in bug.

It was twenty minutes before my heart rate was back to resting pace. So much for bad dreams.

“You are not home”

After three flights which included a stop for a night in Dubai, and over 10,000 miles of traveling, I emerged from the international terminal after clearing customs in Entebbe, Uganda, where a man named Henry introduced himself to me and told me he was the registrar for the High Court of Uganda.
“You are not home,” he said.
"Huh," I said, not sure, wondering if I heard him clearly.
"You are not home. You are from Pepperdine?"
"Yes," I said, relieved. I wonder what gave me away.
After the 45-minute drive from the airport in Entebbe away from Lake Victoria through the lush hills of rural Uganda, we crested a hill and viewed Kampala for the first time. By the time we’d made it to the Katatumba Suites, the apartments Henry arranged for us near downtown Kampala, it had been more than 44 hours since I left for the airport in Los Angeles. But despite my delirium from a lack of sleep after traveling across three continents, one thing was clear to me after finally setting my bags down: I was definitely not home.
Some random observations: (1) many Ugandan officers walking the streets carry a single-shot rifle as if it was a briefcase or a walking stick. (2) There is a large advertisement for Bell Lager on the building across the street from our apartment (guess what I’m ordering the next time I go to a bar). (3) I don’t blend in here; on streets as I pass groups of men waiting for who-knows-what and young children selling knick-knacks, they call me “muzungu.” When I asked a woman at the salon on the ground level of our apartment building what that meant, her response was obvious and simple: white man. Yup, that about sums it up.

T-Minus 2 days

On Thursday, May 21, I'm flying from Los Angeles to Kampala, Uganda to work as a clerk in the federal courts.
To prepare, I've received several shots and vaccinations, secured lots of sunscreen, and located Uganda on a map. (It straddles the equator in east Africa, bordering Kenya, Tanzania, and more newsworthy countries like Rwanda, the Democratic Republic of Congo, and Sudan. By the way, that's clockwise, starting in the West. There's a map for reference. You're welcome.)
Over the next 2+ months, I'll be documenting my experiences here. I hope you enjoy reading about them as much as I hope to enjoy experiencing them.