Respect does not come with age

Although the event which I’m about to blog about happened a month ago, I feel that the entry is a must. It is at best, my recollection lest it’s forgotten over time. It is at worst, a tale of how there are people who are unashamed in demanding respect when they are clearly not entitled to do so. By the way, it’s going to be a long entry so feel free to exit now. The choice is yours.

It happened on a Friday morning, 26 November 2010 to be precise. Now, Friday morning was supposed to be the start to a beautiful weekend (unless of course, there’s a need to clear the backlog of work on weekends. Shudder). That Friday morning, however, was something else. My two bosses were unfortunately stranded in another Court for hearing of a judicial review application. Their absence basically left me alone to attend ‘mention’ of a contempt application instituted by our client. What happened later though caused me to wonder whether their absence was the heaven’s way to make me sigh (or make a mental wail) “What have I done to get stuck in this?”.

A ‘mention’ should have been easy and one without complication. If a trial or hearing could be likened to a woman giving birth, a mention could be seen as, well, a pre-natal check up (Not that I have any experience in giving birth or attending a pre-natal check up though. Somehow, that picture came to mind the moment I’m left to wonder how on earth could I describe a ‘mention’ to a lay person). Further to my digression of thoughts, let me just state that mentions are usually for parties to either get new dates or inform the Court of the status of their matter. Well, this particular mention was not meant to be anything ordinary thanks to the contentious (some would even say scandalous. Gasp.) nature and the personalities involved.

Having obtained leave to commence the contempt proceedings against the Respondent (the party that my client is seeking action against), we had to serve the cause papers on the Respondent personally. This we had to do, failing which, the Respondent is entitled to say that he was not aware of the present proceedings. In our attempt to carry out the personal service, we wrote to the Respondent’s solicitors and counsel. Despite the numerous letters sent and telephone calls made, we did not manage to serve the papers on the Respondent. What we got instead, was a barrage of attacks disguised as correspondence from the other side. In their series of letters calculated to further frustrate us, they made several allegations which if read by people not privy to the facts or aware of the actual position in law, would have the probable effect of putting us in a negative light.

As they alleged that our client was, among others, being secretive and picking Magistrates when those were obviously not the case, we had enough of their nonsense. Big boss asked me to show the letters to Court so that the Magistrate may see for himself what we had to suffer at the hands of these people and have our objections recorded. That was all. On my part, I thought it was a no biggie as I did not think the other side’s extremely senior and learned practitioners would be present for a mere mention. To expect them to come would be akin to asking a heart specialist to administer a flu jab. Seriously, forgive me for my medical references. I do not know what has gotten over me.

But come they did. This was minutes after I informed the Court interpreter that the ‘other side’ has been informed of the mention by way of our solicitors’ letter. So these two gentlemen (believe me, I am being very polite. There are many other less appetizing words currently running in my head that I’m so tempted to use) strolled into Court and sat right in front of me. Without any sign of acknowledging my presence (or my boss’ absence), it was a telling sign of the impending showdown. As for me, there was no way I was going to say ‘hi’ to these people.

Our matter was finally called by the Magistrate after other matters had been disposed off. As it was my client’s application, I rose and introduced parties who were present. Immediately thereafter, I took out a stack of letters exchanged between parties and proceeded to hand the same to the Court. As I was under the instruction to guide the Magistrate through the chain of events, it was necessary that the Magistrate has a copy of the letters so that he may understand what I’m about to tell him. It was at this juncture that the Respondent’s older senior counsel (whom for brevity’s sake, is to be referred as ‘A’. Hmm…it is also pertinently interesting that a perusal of the dictionary would find a part of the human anatomy explained under ‘A’ as well) stood up and fired the first salvo at me. With a raised voice (I do not see why A had to raise his voice. If there’s anyone in danger of losing hearing due to age, he would have better chances), A accused me in open Court and in the presence of audience in the public gallery as not having the courtesy of giving him a copy of the documents which I had given to the Magistrate earlier.

Perhaps A thought he could intimidate me into submission by raising his voice. After all, I was just a young female lawyer who’s alone in the open Court. Well, he was obviously wrong because I only enraged him further. In a firm voice, I told A that there was no need to give him a copy of the letters because he would have it anyway. The letters were meant for the Court to know exactly what has been going on and that’s that. Having the opportunity to reflect of the event, I should have been scared. I was alone and there were no partners to shield me from the verbal attacks. Yet, when A raised his voice at me for the first time (and this would repeat countless times for the next half hour or so), something inside of me just snapped. While the ‘snap’ did not materialize in an outburst that could match A’s raised voice, I felt another foreign force was taking over my being. At that moment, I was not bothered that I was alone (my solicitor only came in the middle of the fun) or that I was in open Court or that our David-Goliath exchanges were being enjoyed by those sitting in the public gallery. What I focused on was to make my points, stop their nonsense and break their barrage of accusations.

Not only did A raise his voice, A also repeatedly told me to sit down. I refused. To me, it was unfair that A gets to interrupt my submission but I’ve to sit down when he’s uttering his load of bollocks. It was time for this old man to be taught that size and age does not matter when you do not play according to the rules. Another thing that really rankled my nerves was that A continuously made reference to the fact that I was young and did not have the courtesy against someone like him who had 40 years of experience. It was as if being born decades after him gave him the God-given right to bully other lawyers. Perhaps other young lawyers but not me. Cowing at the mention of ’40 years’ was not an option. It only made me more resolute that A must be taught (which is a pity, considering his 40 years’ experience. Clearly, he takes a longer time to learn what can be learnt in a day) that respect has to be earned. Respect is not something which you can expect from me just because you’re older. Respect does not come with age.

In my subsequent replies to them, I pointed out that any confusion alleged by them was only their own making. I could very well say (having been reminded of the 40 years’ crap time and time again) that the confusion which they ‘suffered’ from was because they’re delusional. Either that or an onset of Alzheimer’s disease which they’re not aware of. I refrained. Not giving in to temptation, I merely pointed out that there was no way a confusion could have arose as A and his sidekick (which we can call as B. Now, there are also descriptions of the lower part of the human anatomy in the dictionary under ‘B’ which would serve the same purpose as the earlier definition of ‘A’) had been present in all related proceedings for both the lower and higher courts.

A said so many other things which if I’m to write about it here, may go on forever. Also, I do not wish to put in public domain, the sheer ludicrous points which A brought up and would be a total affront to his 40 years’ value. In the end and bored to death with his continuous reminder that I was not even born when he started practicing, I couldn’t stop myself. With a straight face, I told the Court that while I may not have 40 years’ experience or born 40 years ago, those have no relevance to the facts which are clearly present. Since they were umbraged by us seeking their assistance to serve the cause papers on their client and in their eyes, reduced to mere ‘messenger’, I asked the Court to place on record that –

(a) we had done everything possible but was unsuccessful in effecting service;

(b) their allegations in their letters against our client were clearly unwarranted in view of the facts; and

(c) we will serve the cause papers on their client when parties appear for the trial proper.

Even this was objected to. A stood up and said that I have no right to ‘direct’ the Court to place on record. Clearly, age has gotten the better of him. If I was in his position, I wouldn’t know where to hide my face when the Magistrate said there was nothing wrong with my request. With a foreseeable successful service of cause papers on their client, I then asked the Court to fix a hearing date for the contempt application. Again A rose on his hind legs and objected. And when the Magistrate actually fixed a mention date for the application and despite the theatrical performance one would not have expected of a ‘senior’ practitioner, both A and B continued to surprise us further. They had the audacity to stand and requested to be excused from the next mention as they’re not representing the Respondent in respect of the contempt. If that had been the case, then they should ask themselves this – Why do you even bother to attend when you have no right to do so?. It must be mind-boggling to a man with 40 years’ experience.

If 40 years gives you the ability to lie through your teeth or intimidate your juniors when you’re clearly in the wrong, I don’t think I should stay in the legal profession for that long. I’ve seen for myself in Court that day, that if that is the case, I am nothing more but a stubborn stretch of rust that lines the drain and pollutes the water.