Being an obedient subordinate, I zipped my lips after my superior’s order. The short briefing with our lawyer took only a few minutes before we were called into the courtroom. Sincerely speaking, the lawyer’s brief yet diarrhoeal-rapid sermon wasn’t in any way helpful because no sooner had he began to talk, when Gerald told him about his decision and explained how he was planning to do it.
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The four-eyed attorney paid attention, and didn’t try to forbid Gerald against his plan, after all we weren’t crucial clients—he was just doing his job, and Gerald was making it easier for him. However, he told me about what punishment could be given to me—concerning drugs and refraining from giving in the suspect—and those that could be given to Gerald. The latter didn’t care about his fate, however. About fifteen minutes later, we were good to go.
I am not interested in labouring to paint the most perfect of pictures of that court day, but some things really need to be explored. The courtroom was almost empty. Gerald, our demons and I constituted the largest portion of the grave-silent room. I didn’t have a normal heartbeat as we entered—I was experiencing earthquakes allover my body. What amazed me was Gerald’s fearless eyes. He looked so normal. It was as though I was the one to play his part, and he, mine.
We marched to the front, amid pairs of eyes of those present,—including the judge—like brides walking down the aisle, their lovely—unlovely, for our case—husbands-to-be and the congregation offering their undivided attention to them. My legs were trembling, and my eyes, sweating. I think I was looking like a rain-beaten chick! I moved my eyes about to see if there was any familiar face but luckily—or unluckily—there wasn’t.
That day marked the beginning of my hatred for court and the law at large. Don’t worry, my reasons are pregnant: the exagerated protocol obedience, the alien vocabulary, the unneccessary order, among others. To make matters worse, I was among the culprits. That is equivalent to saying that all verbal guns and RPGs had been aimed at me! I strongly believe things would have been very different if maybe I had been the judge, or one of the lawyers, or one of those in the scanty congregation, for that matter.
As I said earlier, I’m not interested in talking about the session—or even remembering its details. This is because I lost my sense of hearing the moment the session began. All I was thinking about was spending the rest of my life in jail. The intense heat in the well-ventilated room brainwashed my mind of Gerald’s plan. What helped me to get back to my senses was the thunderous question of ‘How do you plead?’. That question was the key to my freedom!
The moment he was given a chance to speak, Gerald became my christ. He really said a lot, but certain points still echo in my mind to this date. He said everything he had promised to say, that only a dunce would still take me as a suspect. The good thing is that all attention had been given to him, without interruption—anyway there was no one to interrupt him since there was no accuser or eye witness, and the lawyers, even on the opposite side, seemed uninterested.
After talking for over ten minutes, and cleansing my slate to snow-whiteness, the room went quiet for a moment. I think they were wondering the type of criminal Gerald was. At least they had known, through experience, that ‘selflessness’ wasn’t among the character traits of typical criminals, but here was this particular one, against all odds, nailing himself on the cross so I could have a taste of freedom again.
“Mr Lukoma Gerald, basing on your confessions and evidence in the reach of this court, you have been found guilty of the murder of…I now sentence you to life imprisonment,” the judge finalised with Gerald. “And you, Mr Kubanja Samuel, you have been sentenced to one month in prison, for refusing to report a murder suspect, and a fine of one million Ugandan shillings for misuse of drugs…
That sounds a lot but to me, it sounded like providing earth as a place to spend the afterlife than burning in hell fires. I was rejoicing and thanking God in my heart but I was also sad for Gerald. The session was ended and we were both dismissed. We matched out of the ‘arena’, our hands glued together. Sincerely, I developed a new kind of love towards Gerald. He had been my god in that moment, so he deserves all my praises!
“I want you to live life to its fullness, Kuba,” advised Gerald, as we fully used the few minutes we were given before being taken to our different destinations. We had shared briefly a lot of emotional stuff, that my eyes were becoming wetter. “I’m sorry for being the one who gave you this kind of life in the first place,” he apologized, and continued, “But now I set you free. Fly as high as you can, and to every horizon that is in your reach. Don’t try to scratch the past by visiting me when you get out.”
“You are my only family, Gerald,” I cried. “I’m sorry for this unfortunate fate. When I make money, I will try my best to get you out.” The statement sounded more like a reassurance than an affirmation—it was a strong spirit that lacked a body. He knew that, so the mulches on his forehead were not ironed by the feelings it held. On the other hand, he seemed cheered-up somehow by it—at least he learnt that I also cared about him.
“I wish you well with Rachael,” he inserted in the statement. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you but I believe what you believe in.” we both laughed as he gave me a light jab, with both fists, in my chest. After a few seconds of disobeying their harsh commands, the officers finally took us in different directions as we bid our last farewells. I was going back to Wandegeya post to serve my one-month sentence while he was to be transferred to the National prison.
The one month in prison seemed like a day to me. I’d thought that it would take forever but everything seemed to be in a rush—my mind was, as well. Unfortunately I had to spend more two days in jail after the one month sentence because I hadn’t paid the fine. When those days passed, another miracle happened. Leila unexpectedly paid the fine and got me out of the hell. I hadn’t seen that coming!
“Gerald told me to do whatever I could to top up the money he had left me, in order to pay your fine,” she began. “So I had to service more customers in a day, and also sell more drugs.” I think that was unnecessary. It only made me feel more guilty than thankful. Nonetheless, she sounded like a parent—someone capable of sacrificing herself for her child. For the first time, I didn’t see her as Gerald’s barbeque, but rather as his angel Gabriel, sent to do wonders in my life. “You really mean a lot to him,” she added in conclusion, giving me a smile—I’d been starving for such a thing as a smile.
The angelic words that came out of Leila—the harlot by religion—made me create a place for her in my heart. For many months I had despised her—and the kind of work she was doing to earn a living—but that day broadened my mind. Her heart seemed far more innocent than her genitals. She told me about other things Gerald had requested her to do for me and as she sang the nonmelodic song, I saw the righteous woman still hidden in her. It was clear that it had been the relentless fires of life that had made her try to extinguish them with the wetness of some parts of her body!
“So what plans do you have, now that you’ve been given a second chance?” she inquired, pouring me a cup of tea. To be honest, I didn’t have any sensible plans at that time. My only plan was Rachael. I moved my eyes about the interior of her shanty as though trying to look for answers in the cracks of the room’s dilapidated walls. I found none but the reasons of her position in life.
“I don’t know,” I said. Even to me, that sounded so unserious of me. I didn’t have anything to say, and I never wanted to poison her ears with my stupid tales of Rachael. “Gerald advised me to go abroad and do any kind of work for some money, so I can start life anew,” I added after some consideration.
“They say anyone with a criminal record can never be allowed in another country,” she pointed out. I didn’t know if that was right—I didn’t want to know either—but I was just glad she’d digested my reply.
“I’ll have to give it a try,” I replied, and immediately added, “Leila, please help me with 2,000shs. I left my property in a rental in Katanga, and I intend to pick them today,” I explained. “I’m sorry for being such a burden,” I added, as a matter of fact. She immediately gave me the money without asking any questions. I wish I could explain to her that my property wasn’t the reason—I was only dancing to the tunes of Rachael in my pulse.