By Rotimi Fasan
ALTHOUGH right on the front page of The Punch of March 14, 2012, the image was not that visible. It was of a man perched dangerously on the mast of a telecoms company in the premises of the Federal High Court, Shehu Shagari Way, in Abuja.

There were, in fact, three images of the man on the page: One of him descending from the mast; a second shows him on the mast and the third shows him seated on the ground, apparently tired or upset, with his head bowed and surrounded by police men and others who must have been part of those called in to persuade him to come down from the mast.

And that last bit should tell you that the man’s action was not a result of happenstance. It was deliberately thought through and resolutely executed. Who was this man and what was the reason for his action? His name is Musa Walkatu and he was protesting against the slow pace of his suit in the court. Which brings me to a contemplation of our justice system and how it serves citizens of this country.

The universal symbol of justice is a blindfolded female figure with a balanced scale in one hand and a double-edged sword in the other.

While the scales are to measure the opposing strength and weakness of a case, the sword symbolises reason and justice and the blindfold points to the impartiality of justice, the fact that it is no respecter of person and should be dispensed without fear or favour- deference to money, position, age or gender etc. In a word, justice is depicted as a woman/goddess that has no price.

In Nigeria, this would not seem to be the case. Anyway, Nigerians have always believed that justice has a price affordable by the highest bidders who are invariably the richest members of the society. With the right amount, justice can always be bought. But theoretically we are made to believe that the Nigerian justice system is always at the service of the people regardless of their position.

This official view of things is daily proven wrong in our everyday activities and that point was underlined by Walkatu who had to climb up a telecoms mast to protest against the slow pace of his case in a Federal High Court in Nigeria’s capital city where people of power, men and women, can with their money ‘turn blue into red’ as Fela would put it.

In the full story that accompanied Walkatu’s images on page 6 of The Punch of the day in question, it was reported that his suit was slow at coming to justice because he had no lawyer.

What this means in practical terms is that Walkatu is being denied his day in court and might, in fact,  never get justice simply because he is too poor to afford a lawyer. But everyday we are deafened by that worn claim that “justice delayed is justice denied”.

Here is a Nigerian who rather than resort to what legal experts like to call self-help, rather than do this, Mallam Walkatu did what every law-abiding citizen should do- went to court only to discover that there is more to getting justice than taking a suit there. Had citizen Walkatu committed a crime, say, stolen a tuber of yam which he proceeded to cook and eat because he was hungry, the courts would have been quick to seek ‘justice’.

When he is arrested, the state would not wait until the man could find a lawyer to defend him before hearing his case. A state counsel, no matter their level of competence or incompetence, would be appointed for him and his matter would be dealt with expeditiously, usually by his being sentenced to jail or, if he is lucky, fined heavily.

The question is why is our justice system slow to reward or, at least, recognise the lawful conduct of citizens but is very fast to punish them?

Is justice meant but only to be punitive or denied the poor? Had it been a politician that is being arraigned for one of the show trials for which our country is now notorious and through which nobody ever gets convicted even when the case, usually of corruption or some other heinous crime, has been proven beyond any ‘shadow of doubt’- had the Walkatu case involved some politician such would have got their wish without anybody saying a word. But now the matter concerns an ordinary citizen with no political godfather and he has to put his life on the line in order to call attention to his situation.

Desperate acts like this are the oil of revolutionary conduct. Until somebody set himself alight in public in Mubarak’s Egypt, the former dictator and even the rest of the world took no notice of what was happening in Egypt which would later ignite Egypt’s version of the Arab Spring.

The only condition Walkatu gave before listening to entreaties to descend the mast was an audience with the Police IG, Mohammed Abubakar or former Vice President, Abubakar Atiku from whose state of Adamawa Walkatu comes. Now nobody listens to the man but when tomorrow he joins some desperate group ready to provide cover for him to vent his frustration against the state, then would there be talk of government calling for dialogue.

Those in power or rich enough to afford lawyers don’t know what it means to the silent majority whose voices have either be silenced or stolen simply on account of being poor. We should try to develop our sense of empathy and appreciate what others might be going through. I recall this same sense of impotence that was displayed by a man, obviously a Northerner, during the Oputa Panel.

He was frustrated that he couldn’t have the time to air his grievance, I believe, about the injustice he suffered under some VIP in a past military regime. Virtually in tears, he rose uttering his displeasure as he walked out of the venue of the sitting.

Various measures, including resort to out-of-court settlement have been advocated as ways to hasten court processes but the state should be willing and ready to provide legal assistance to citizens who cannot afford lawyers. Lagos State has an approach to this in what it calls Office of the Public Defender and there are NGOs that provide particular kinds of legal assistance to people.

The Federal Government should be able to do better. If such offices or avenues exist for citizens, their existence should be publicised and taken beyond office documents. There is something immoral and sinful in taking away the voice of a person and denying him justice simply on account of his material inadequacy.