Keep an open mind to gossip
No smoke without fire, as we like to say. But sometimes we mistake smoke for a cloud of kicked-up dust. There was a senior lawyer whom I had heard gossip about since I was in my second or third year of practice. The common complaint about him was his sharp practice. He was said to read out only those passages in the judgment that supported his argument and conveniently stopped or overlooked other parts of the judgment that went against him. He would serve a revised submission or new bundles of authorities just before the hearing. If you were lucky, you got both. He was accused of obfuscating the facts and conflating the law, making a hearing against him tedious, difficult, and challenging. You could not trust what he said because he did not confirm things in writing so he could pivot on the issue later. I heard all that and more; cumulatively over many years, in bits and pieces, drips and drabs, here and there, now and again, from a variety of lawyers. After hearing a constant and consistent stream of complaints that echoed and complemented what others said of him for so long, it was difficult to form any other impression of him. If so many people are saying the same thing, it must be true right? Even as I knew I had to be fair to him, it was difficult. Whenever I gave him the candle of a benefit of the doubt, the damning accusations would materialize out of the darkness like demons to swiftly crowd and suffocate it. I met him briefly a few times before at Bar functions, but that was social. It’s difficult to gauge whether someone is a competent, credible, and proper professional at a social function. Our guards are down and we engage on a different intellectual and emotional level. There is no need for a warrior to display sword or skill at a feast meant for camaraderie and celebration. And of course, one fine day, I found myself against him. Well, actually my father’s firm and client against his firm and his client. I was just a foot soldier in the firm. At that point, I could not measure myself up to him in experience, reputation and learning. He was twenty years plus standing. I was a nobody that just made his seven years at the bar. The only way I thought I could measure up then was weight. He was heavy. So was I. I saw his firm name on the Memorandum of Appearance (‘the Appearance Memo’). His nom de plume was his name shortened to its first two syllables. I took a deep breath. Oh boy, I need to be on guard with this fella, I thought. The case had to do with a claim for nuisance by our client against his client. It was contentious. Letters flew back and forth before the matter finally took legal form with their respective lawyers. We filed the action. My orientation for the case was to be on guard for any sharp practices the senior lawyer was expected to pull. He, of course, did not handle the case personally. His legal assistant attended to the groundwork and routine case management. He attended only the hearings and the important case managements before the Judge. He took every opportunity to charm the lady judge. I was powerless in the face of that. None of the legal advocacy books I read ever used the word ‘charm’. But there it was. All that was left was for me to shut up, observe and learn. Despite his approach, I felt he was within the bounds of propriety. It wasn’t as if he came with a bouquet of red roses and chocolates. He was subtle. He didn’t bump, he nudged, gently. Strategic eulogization is the best I can describe it. I, of course, was expecting more and wondered when what I heard from others was going to happen. But that was it though. Much to my surprise, the case proceeded as it did according to the usual course of proceedings. He did not file any funny applications. There was no document ambush, no unreasonableness over the marking of the documents, no two-faced statements, and on the whole, was cooperative and reasonable. He defended his client’s case squarely on the merits. He didn’t bother with technical objections. All in all, pretty straight up. Throughout the case, I constantly measured my experience against the things I heard about him. A lot of the time my experience was different from what I heard. The only application we had before the full trial was an amendment application. We wanted to add certain post-Writ facts in our statement of claim. They opposed it. That hearing proceeded uneventfully. His advocacy was good. I don’t remember whether I measured up. All I recall of it was the High Court judge dismissing our application. I was annoyed but amendments are at the court’s discretion. So fair win to him. We appealed. It was at the appeal that the senior lawyer refuted all the things I heard about him with a gesture. We were in the Court of Appeal that morning. Although I had appeared several times by then in the Court of Appeal, I remained a touch nervous and anxious about the performance. These days, I would get up, go around, and talk to others while waiting for the hearing to be called. But, as a much younger lawyer, I would sit by my file and read my submission and cause papers, revising my submission ad nauseam; in a dignified attempt to assure and comfort myself. So there I was at the bar table anxiously re-reading the cause papers when I felt a light tap on my left shoulder. I turned to my left and there he was fully robed with a sheaf of papers in his hand. “Morning Fahri. How are you?” “Morning Dato,” I replied. I wanted to say, I am nervous and
