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My teacher, the judge president
By
Alex
Magaisa
I MUST admit we did not think much of her when she first stepped into
the lecture room at the beginning of the academic year. The year was
1997, at the University of Zimbabwe (UZ), Faculty of Law. It was our
Final Year and the new teacher of the law was Rita Makarau.
Ten years later, Makarau is now Justice Makarau, the Judge President of the High Court of Zimbabwe and as we now know, a lot more than that. The monumental task before her was to take us through a module, which law school legend had placed in the category of the notoriously difficult.
In every educational establishment there is at least one aspect - a subject, an experience, a feature - something whose notoriety senior students take pride in announcing to the fresh-faced; the uninitiated ones. I do not know why seniors do it. Perhaps, they do it to demonstrate that they know more – their accumulated wisdom, which is the consequence of experience; to announce their status as having been there and seen it all. Perhaps it is a way of instilling fear in the young ones – making them feel small. All this perhaps, being efforts to establish positional superiority.
Whatever the reason, seniors always have something to tell the Freshmen, often to warn, sometimes sounding so grave and serious, as if it were a matter of life and death. A particular experience stands out from my year as a freshman at the UZ, in 1994. A senior student; a short, chubby and generally affable fellow who made it customary to be seen carrying a load of large books, an appearance that probably persuaded us to take him very seriously, which was the design of the fellow. Here was a man of books, four years in law school, speaking with weighted authority to his juniors. We figured that he fancied himself some kind of “elder statesman”, a term that he regularly used in reference to his fellow senior colleagues, but was probably exporting it to us for his own benefit, for we also ended up calling him by the same title, which evidently pleased him.
On this occasion he appeared very animated as he spoke. He spoke with a lisp, which was more pronounced when he was too excited. He started, “Young men”, followed by a measured pause as he inspected his small but eager congregation, probably to ensure that he had drawn sufficient attention. And then he continued, “There is a subject at Part Four level; a subject that will discipline you. It is called Conveyancing. Be very careful, young men. It will discipline you!”, with heavy emphasis on “discipline” and “Part Four level”. It conjured images of something distant and insurmountable, which could not be attempted by those of ordinary powers. It sounded as if whatever we did between our lowly First Year and “part four level” would ultimately count for nothing because in the distant future there stood a monster called Conveyancing.
Against the background of this unsolicited wisdom, it was not surprising that when the day came in 1997, when we reached the famed Part Four level, there was a fairly excessive measure of apprehension as we prepared for our first lecture in Conveyancing. And so, when the woman called Rita Makarau turned up for that lecture, there was a mixture of fear and worry on the faces of many students, or at least hidden in their hearts.
Probably a fear of the unknown. There was no known history of Makarau as a teacher of the law and here she was to take us through what had been touted as the toughest module of them all, one that had caused many a student to spend longer than normal in law school in previous years. It did not help that her demeanor betrayed a measure of nervousness at first but gradually we were reassured as she gained her confidence, looking straight into the many pairs of visibly intimidated eyes before her. What struck me most was her calmness and her manner of speech, which was measured and cultured. She gave the impression of someone who chose her words very carefully. Over the next few months, my friends and I could not help but admit that she carried herself very well. She was a lady.
By the end of that first lecture she had managed to communicate a very simple, but key message – the demystification of Conveyancing, the monster. I recall thinking that she had done her homework and knew exactly the legend that surrounded Conveyancing. She managed to bring calm, to replace fear with expectation. Conveyancing lectures were not the dreary encounters that our minds had been trained to prepare for. Where other lecturers had tried to build an atmosphere of mystique around their modules, Makarau had taken the approach of demystifying things.
I must admit I had a particularly good relationship with my teacher. I like to think the affection and respect were mutual. She showed respect to her students, listened and communicated as well as any could be expected to do. I have not had the opportunity to appear before her in a court of law, and I am therefore not able to comment on her performance on the Bench from a lawyer’s perspective. I should therefore ask for forgiveness if those that do not share my views feel that I am overly biased.
There have been many stories told about the government “packing the judiciary” – a euphemism for the government appointing its supporters to the Bench. The reality, as we know it, is that no government that has the power to appoint judges is immune from the tendency to appoint those that it considers would be fit for its purpose. Those in power always choose those with whom they think they have an ideological symmetry.
The politics of judicial appointments are as contentious in the derided regimes in the developing world as they are in the developed countries. It is not for me to comment on whether or not Makarau’s appointment, a few years ago owes much to politics one way or the other, because what matters most is the quality and character of the person. Being appointed to the Bench is one thing and doing what is right as a judge is quite another.
I was happy for my teacher when she was appointed Judge President, first as an individual whose character I have much admired and secondly, as a woman who is pioneering uncharted territory in the legal profession. Many people consider the life of a judge to be one that is blessed by luxury. I do not think so. I think it is a tough job and worse still, some very capable people sacrifice lucrative careers in private practice.
It is tough when one is committed to do what is right, yet the environment is not conducive. To be sure, there are many exceptional Zimbabwean lawyers who have on previous occasions refused to accept appointment to the Bench, simply because it does not pay enough to be a judge and one is better off to continue in private practice or pursue other careers. Even in the UK, some judges have departed from the Bench to return to pursue private practice, which is more lucrative and perhaps more interesting.
It is against this background that I have not been surprised at Justice Makarau’s recent speech delivered at the opening of the High Court on Monday 15 January 2007. It puts to shame, many men and women involved at high levels of state institutions who have decided to see no evil, hear no evil and say no evil, in the face of obvious difficulties facing the nation. One only has to consider the stance of the institution that is supposed to be the guardian of the nation’s financial stability – the Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe – in the last few days.
On the same day that a woman in charge of guarding the law was speaking the language of the suffering, the institution that is in charge of the finances of the nation was busy rebutting claims that it had purchased a luxury vehicle for its Governor and defending its reputation. What is worse, in the process of making the rebuttal, they unashamedly admit that they spent a hundred and something US dollars and a wooly statement about a “loan, swap and top-up” arrangement! So people are actually permitted to obtain loans in foreign currency from a banking institution let alone a central bank in Zimbabwe
It was worse enough that one brave woman was complaining of poverty afflicting the guardians of the law while the guardians of money were talking about “swaps and top-ups” to purchase luxury, but all this, at a time when the health institutions are at a virtual standstill because of a strike by health personnel who are asking for better compensation. While the guardians of money were busy defending their hard-earned and precious reputations, the guardian of the law was fighting the people’s cause – people who are living side by side with poverty in its naked state. I wonder how “loan, swap and top-up” arrangements measure up in the much vaunted sermons on corporate governance.
It goes without saying that the judiciary cannot effectively function when those charged with the duty to judge are in a position of inferiority in relation to those they are called upon to judge. Corruption thrives in the judiciary because the judges have power over litigants and the accused, which power they can trade for pecuniary benefit. Admittedly, this happens even in the best of systems but the problem is exacerbated in environments where judges are left to wallow in poverty.
Begging for assistance, as Justice Makarau has done on behalf of fellow judges, is a sure sign that the men and women on the Bench have been left in the lurch. There are, of course, exceptions in the judiciary, who continue to thrive because they are able to exploit the system – but by and large the good men and women who have stuck to their oath of office are suffering. It is a sad day, when the judiciary has to constitute itself into a trade union; when a senior judge pleads for assistance.
Many people may have doubted Justice Makarau when she was appointed judge and then Judge President, like we did that day in 1997, when she stepped in the lecture room. She won us over because she was able to do her job fairly and efficiently. The speech by Makarau on 15 January 2007, outdoes whatever has been said by old warhorses like Tekere, Nkala who have lately been in the headlines about the inefficiencies of the government.
Here we have a woman of substance, a professional who is serving the state at a very difficult time, someone whom others might consider to sympathetic to the government merely because she was appointed by the establishment, standing up and speaking the language of the suffering; the language of the men and women who daily, walk the streets and paths across Zimbabwe. My teacher, the honourable judge, now a trade unionist of the judiciary and a voice of the suffering.
Alex Magaisa can be contacted at wamagaisa@yahoo.co.uk
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