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JUSTICE FROM THE GROUND UP BUILDING ACCESS AND INTEGRITY IN UGANDA'S LEGAL SYSTEM

Reggae Plus One2:31:07

Transcription

Is no, no more than anyone, anybody in regard to this topic, looking at their working experience and what they have done in their experience.

If we understand the question, it promises justice for all without discrimination; yet, for many Ugandans, especially the poor and the marginalized, and those in rural areas, justice is not a lived experience. And you know, when justice is not accessible, it builds misery and hopelessness. When integrity is compromised, it feeds mistrust. And when the legal system protects only the powerful, while failing the vulnerable, while failing the poor, it builds impunity.

But today, we are not here to cast blame. We are here to forge a new path forward, a path towards a justice system that is inclusive, fair, transparent, and accountable. We had to forge a path to a system that reflects the values of equity, humanity, and democracy.

So I want to thank our partners for joining us today. Thank you, Madame Olive. Thank you, Madame Christ, for joining us today, and to our wonderful audience who have been with us now for some time. Thank you for joining us every Wednesday, both on Twitter and on our YouTube channel, plus one. Thank you for joining us in this presentation as we shape a legal system that works for every Ugandan. I'll hand over to Mr. for a brief introduction before we introduce our guests today. Thank you. Thank you.

Uh, thank you, Alfred, and good morning, good afternoon, and good evening to whoever has joined us from wherever you have joined us from. It is a great honor and privilege, as usual, to engage with colleagues, and I am honored to have our usual panel, Alfreda and Mari Makab, and today we've been joined by Christine and Jol. I think colleagues will agree with me that the work of justice is hard, sometimes painful, many times a thankless job. And I think the people who have been at the forefront of doing this thankless job are the two guests we have. They'll talk about themselves in better detail, Alfred, but I think Christine was the—I think she is currently the CEO of Practis Conflict Center, where she's working with retired justices. Okay. Where she's where she's where they do arbitration and mediation and mediation and mainly handle commercial clients but across the board. They handle across the board, but there's all sorts of commercial work there. You also—she was also a founder, I think a founder of Justice Centers. If you go in the courts of this country, upcountry, at every point you'll find a small little office—not an office, I can maybe sometimes—how do I say it nicely?—sometimes you find a container in the courts, and at the back of the container, there are two or three lawyers serving the public. It's a government project, donor-funded, a jail project, a government-funded project. But it's really the first legal aid project in Uganda. Many countries in the world have what they call legal aid, where the indigent—what they call the indigent—are people who have legal challenges, are given help, and Justice Centers has been at the forefront of solving problems. I think you had also previously worked, um, I think with Defeat, if I'm right, on the EU and, um, anti—many anti-corruption measures. But for our conversation, we want to really understand this building this alternative justice in arbitration and mediation on the one hand, and then on the other hand, access to justice for the people who who can't afford to pay legal fees, because the people who come absolutely can't afford. And there's even a means test, at least there used to be a means test, to make sure that you can—you afford or you can't afford. Our other guest is Mumba. I think people who go to court a lot would have known Ja from—in Bebe, I think it was IMP as well, Nakawa High Court, I think the Bebe Magistrate's Court, the Impie Magistrate's Court, the Nakawa High Court, and the Criminal Division of the High Court, and maybe other other courts where she served. I think many colleagues found her in Nakawa when there was—when the—in the High Court circuit in Nakawa, and then it was later transferred into the Criminal Division of the High Court, and uh, basically someone who handled thousands of cases, who made sure that the work of justice is done and that courts are functioning, and a very experienced senior clerk in the in the in the judiciary of Uganda. And and someone who really has that feel for justice, who knows the files that are moving, how files are moving, the judicial officers who are moving, and the judicial officers who are finding it a challenge to move. And so we are we are very grateful to have you both here. It is our honor, our privilege to have this conversation, and I'm sure I speak for Alf and Merci. Maybe I think I do, at least Mercy, don't I? Okay. Okay. I think we can go straight into it. Um, yeah. Thank you.

Thank you, Mr. Probably the best way to do the conversation. You know, building access to justice means very many things, but mostly it means simplifying the legal process. It means translating the legal information into language which people understand. It means expanding legal aid in rural areas. It means investing in community technology and mechanisms so that Ugandans, regardless of their status, can really find fair and equal access to justice and outcomes of cases. When you talk about access to justice, it really means probably what Justice Centers Uganda is all about, in my view. So my first question is to Madame Christine, as the founder of Justice Centers Uganda, from his introduction. Would you like us to share with us your story and what made you dedicate yourself to bringing justice to the people, having worked for society with donors and established legal aid, currently in arbitration? So what would you like to share with our audience, your story, and really what makes you tick? Thank you.

Thank you very much. I'm delighted to be here. I hope my volume is loud enough. Yes, I'm delighted to be here. Thank you very much for inviting me. Um, indeed, I feel honored to be here. Um, my story and access to justice goes back when I was in high school. Uh, in Gaza, our teachers used to encourage us to pray for our purpose, for God to show us what our purpose would be. So I did pray for that, and I ended up—I would ask God, okay, what should I study, and to be able to, you know, meet my purpose for which you created me. I ended up in law, and when I got into law, I remember in law school I prayed—when we used to have optional subjects—which subjects I should do that would help me to serve, because purpose is service. And I did human rights, you know, among others. And when I did, you know, go to LDC, I came out in 199—I've been working as a lawyer for 24 years. So in 1999, when I came out, I was blessed to get a job at the Human Rights Commission. In the Human Rights Commission, I worked in only one department. It was the legal and uh—um—then it—it morphed and became the Complaints Investigations and Legal Services Department. I worked for about—I'd like to say 8 and a half years in the Human Rights Commission. There, I came face to face with what it meant to uh, look for justice and what justice was and how elusive it was. I found out there that there were only two categories of people who used the service, the complaints function of the Human Rights Commission. It was the politicians and the poor. No Ugandan who could afford the services of a lawyer came to the Human Rights Commission to seek justice. It's only politicians, for obvious reasons, and also the poor, because there was nowhere else for them to go. And there I worked for 8 years with poor people, supporting them when—when they brought their issues of uh, rights violations. Okay, we had a tribunal, supporting them through the tribunal and all of that. If they had money, they would not come to the commission because while it was functioning well, it wasn't a place where, you know, you could easily, you know, work through things to get justice or get your human rights recognized as it were in there. Very soon I realized that the other way to support these people was to to find a way to get the parties to talk so that they don't take a long time through the processes. I want to paint for you the picture of a poor person in Uganda. A picture goes like this: It could be an elderly man, woman, young woman, young man. It could be anyone. But they come from Tusi—Tusi is somewhere deep down in Simbab. They could come from Soaps, which is deep down in Toro. Soaps is the poorest, I think uh, place in Toro. They could come from Chanam Kaka, somewhere deep down in Masaka. Very poor people. They could come from Adok, somewhere in in Lango, very, very deep. They could come from—which other parts—Nar in in in Rojiri, very deep down there. That's the person we should be thinking about when we are thinking about access to justice. When this person gets a problem, normally those problems are going to be issues especially related to land. When they have a problem with land, it is going to be that someone is threatening their interest in that piece of land, and usually people like that don't own too many pieces of land, and so they need help. Maybe they go to the LC. The LC can do very little. Maybe they go—from the LC, someone might say, "Go to the police." We know that the police is going to say, "We need fuel in the car. We need you to facilitate us to come. We don't have paper. Buy paper." You're talking about a person in Soap, Soap in Toro. They don't have—they don't earn 50,000 Uganda shillings a month. So they don't have money to give a policeman to go and to find a piece of paper and pen to write their story or their statement for that matter, or whatever. So they've gone to the LC, very little help. LC has very little help to offer. We must acknowledge that. They've gone to police. They don't have the money to give police. We know police is going to ask them for money to do the basic minimum services. Mhm. Where do they need to go? Sub-county, sometimes they will go to. So they end up in this thing called forum shopping because they are not getting the access. Meanwhile, their land is either being taken away or has been taken away, or you know, they are somewhere—they're in a state of of uncertainty. And who's taking the piece of land away? Somebody who knows that this person is too poor to afford justice. So if I take it, they'll have nowhere to go. So they have the full force of the police, by the way, and the law on their side because they have money. It is what it is. So what happens? What happens is that this person—they're at the threat of losing their piece of land. It is where they derive their sustenance. It is where they grow a few crops for feeding and then also sell some to buy—so sugar, salt, a matchbox, and some paraffin for what we call tardoba, and they still exist. We can—you can Google, you'll find out what it is. And um, so they are—their life is at stake. Their children, if they were going to school at all, cannot even go to school because the little money that these people can have or have cannot go to school. It must go to support. So someone tells them, "You know what, go to Kampala and find a lawyer," or here in the village, the son of so and so—what—what is a lawyer? Need money! If you're coming from—you need a minimum of 120,000 Uganda shillings to come and go back. Do you know what that person does? They had a goat, they had two goats; now they're selling off one to be able to raise—they won't even raise 120 out of a goat. They're selling it to another poor person in the village to come to Kampala. They come to Kampala, and the lawyer says, "Please give me money for opening instruction fees." We call it lawyers, you know, instruction fees. It's not going to be 30,000. No, it's going to be a handsome amount of money. Let's assume this person can even afford that. Many of them can't. And when they can't, they come to a lawyer who says, "I need instruction fees to open a file to do ABCD." They failed to raise that money. So they went to police, they went to LC, they went to sub-county, maybe they went to the town clerk to seek for help, who said, "Go to RDC," they went to RDC, who—you know, it's a political office—you know—now they've come to the lawyer who has said, "We need money." They can't afford, so they forum shop; they go to IGG. IGG says, "Ah, these ones, we don't do this, we don't handle these cases; go to so and so," and they—they go, they go, they go. Many of these offices don't send them because they care about them, and they're sending them to a place that will help them. They get rid of them. They are poor. They don't speak English. They—they—they—you know, there's nothing about a poor person that is attractive. And let me tell you guys, so many people in Uganda are poor. It's painful. So many. We are here—what—SC—all of these. But the people we talk about in Uganda, I'm telling you right now, tonight, you might find that, you know, 60% and more of the people in Uganda right now cannot afford dinner tonight. You go and do the research, you'll find out. This is the—I'm painting you the picture of access to justice of a poor person vis-à-vis access to justice. So they come to the lawyer, the lawyers—to them, the forum shop, they go to the Human Rights Commission, says, "Ah, this is not a human rights issue. It is a legal issue. Hire a lawyer." They've already gone to the lawyer who they can't afford. They go—"Okay, they end up. They end up. They end up." So this is the story of an ordinary Ugandan. Okay. Now, what then happens is that we say, "No, something has to be done." So in the Human Rights Commission, I saw a lot of these people that didn't fit the bill of coming with a human rights complaint, but they had nowhere else to go. At the time, I think the Uganda Law Society, legal aid project maybe was starting. FIDA was there, you know, things like that, but FIDA had their work—law—you know, there were very few places to refer these people. They needed help. So the first thing I asked—I remember I asked my chairperson was, "Can you train me in—" I had read about mediation. "Can you train me in mediation so that I support these people through mediation?" And she did—she listened—bless her. So no, not her. So she's alive. Bless her. Her name is Margaret Seaga. She—they took me for training in mediation. I came back, set up a mediation program, and we started to mediate. Many of the cases we used to get, by the way, were not—were fathers refusing to take care of their children after fathering them. Most of the cases we got at the Human Rights Commission. So through mediation, we ended up resolving about 360 of those in a year. So I knew then that mediation works. We built up that program, and I hope it's still there. I've been gone a long time from the Human Rights Commission. Sorry, my story is long, but I'm about to finish now. After that, um, I was in the Human Rights Commission for a very long time. I mean, so that I couldn't help myself even. So I decided, okay, how do I help but also survive? I decided to uh, find another job. I went and worked for an American NGO. It's called the International Justice Mission. And there we were going to court for poor people who had uh, succession-related issues. Okay. So we went—I went and worked there for uh, two years, but I felt that I needed to serve a bigger audience. So while there, a job was advertised for someone to come and establish this project called Justice Centers. No, maybe the name wasn't even structured yet, but someone to come and establish a program. So I applied for it. I got it, and there what I was looking for was that I could put in my own understanding of how people suffer so that it—it would work for everybody. Fast forward, it was—it is—it—it is a justice law and order sector program funded both by government and donors, or at least used to be. But now the Democratic Governance Facility pulled out, and it became a challenge, and it has many challenges of finances. Then um, we started it in—in—on—on the 9th of December in uh, 2010, and it's still going, but I left in 2017, and I'll tell you why. We did do a lot of work, a lot of work. I moved this whole program of mediation into it. And believe it or not, every year we resolve about 700 cases just through what we call mediation. Mediation is when two parties have a problem, you sit with them as a neutral party and support them to resolve their challenge. About 700 cases a year, 700, 750, you know, just through mediation. Of course, we went to court also, you know, around the country, and that's a different story. For the cases in which we went to court, I can tell you right now there's a case which was from 2000. It came to Justice Centers in 2012. We got some lawyers, private lawyers to support us on the matter because it was now at the uh, Court of Appeal level, and to date that case is still in court. I'm painting you a picture of access to justice in Uganda. But more specifically when it comes to a poor person. In this case, this poor person, you know, it was a case in which a man worked for some um, project, and he got an ailment that was—as a result of—ailment that was as a result of what he was doing, and you know, it included some, you know, international projects and things. We got him good lawyers. The lawyers were willing to support him. Their lawyers are still on that case for free, but the case is still in court right now from 2000. We're talking access to justice, but especially for the poor. So let's go back to that person of the piece of land that they are losing. If they have to wait from 2000 to today, is that piece of land still available? If their child was 6 years old from 2000, how old are they? Have they gone to school? Thank you. Have they gone to school? No. Because the mother or the father or both have spent every little penny they have fighting to get back or to keep their piece of land. And like I said, they will have a chance of—if—if they're so lucky—of four acres or two, you know, they're fighting to keep—or two, you know, they're fighting to keep it. It's their—their whole existence depends on it. So from 2000 to today—maybe 30-some years—is it 30-some—is it 20-some, 25 years—that child has not gone to school—a quarter of a century—a quarter of a century. Thank you. That child has not gone to school. The parents are about to get very elderly; they'll stop fighting. That whole ecosystem has collapsed, you know, for that poor person because nobody could help them anyway. So um, through Justice Centers, we handled a lot of poor people's cases. We saw quite a few things. One was that because the person is poor, many people are going to assume they are poor; they have nowhere to go. And in this country, you know, if you know someone—you know, powerful people—you can do whatever you want. And it's true what I'm saying. I'm not going—I'm not a politician. I'm just telling you about access to justice as it is. And there's no reason why I shouldn't tell you. So the person will lose their land. This person will go RDC, or they will move to so many offices. None of them will help them. Now the legal aid which we established has—first of all, DGF was closed. Any legal aid program you think about, DGF was closed. Government is not putting any money in legal aid. The last straw that broke the camel's back. We were making a case for a national legal aid program that is properly facilitated by a law. You know, we fought for the law from 2012. Parliament—what—you go to parliament, you call them to listen to this, and they say, "How much are you going to give us for sitting allowances?" The MPs—to come to a meeting in which you're talking about a law for legal aid. Every single one of you here knows a very impoverished person that has asked you for money because their child was sick. Even the MPs—more so the MPs—but they would ask us for that anyway. So the law failed—the last…

The straw that broke the camel's back was when the attorney general came to a meeting and said, "Ah, for us, the priority is security, legal aid; we are not interested." So the poor are still on a quest for justice. The cases I've told you—if one case should be in court for 25 years, you're talking court case backlog; you're talking about a person who has lost every means of survival because the justice system doesn't work. If it does, very little. Maybe for now I should stop there. Then I'll add. Thank you.

I think um, you've you've you've you've spoken to what we've been speaking about, but you've spoken about it with more eloquence and with more knowledge. I think we've been—we are grateful for that. But but allow me now to move to to Mumba. Mumba, you have been in the courts. Unlike um the rest of us, for you, you have you've sat in the courts. And before we go into issues of access to justice um that Christine has has really gone through, first, tell us about the courts. Tell us about yourself, your first day on the job. What do you remember about the courts? But like we we've seen the picture of the Ugandan getting justice, but now give us the picture of the Ugandan who sits in the courtroom, the court clerk, the person who has the view of exactly what's happening. You get into court; maybe you can tell us about yourself as well when you started. I know you I know at one time you were in the virus Uganda virus um research institute and then you worked your way. So just tell us about just brief a brief snippet onto onto your career before we get into discussion of access to justice. What what we want to understand—we have been we have seen the place of a person who is getting justice. Now we want to see the place of an of a person working in the courts. Over to you.

Thank you, Elon. Uh, good evening, good afternoon, or good morning, depending on where you are located on the globe. Once again, my name is Olive Nasa or Mumba, and I'm a Ugandan, and I'm glad to be one—a Ugandan that has served in the courts of law as an interpreter for quite some time. Uh, first of all, I wish to build a bit of background about myself. I know our followers—our viewers and listeners—want to to know about this person now speaking—an educated Ugandan up to university level. But just like any other Ugandan, after completing my course in um business studies and majoring in um management, I did not get a job straight away. And um, just like any other Ugandan, a young woman asks just to work. I had to go through the papers, and here I landed on this advertisement about um some job opportunities in the judiciary. So I put in my application. I went to Farmer's House. I did the interview. Uh, surprisingly, the people that I was interviewed with were lawyers who had done some bit of law, but I wasn't a lawyer. Farmer House is public service. Yes. But I'm happy that I passed that interview. Actually, at one point I was asked whether I'd gone through law school, and I said, "No." Probably I was very articulate at how I was answering back the questions, and I'm glad that I found my way to the courts of law. My first job as a court clerk was in in TV magistrate court, but I didn't straight away go to court. We had to go through an induction and training at um Uganda Management Institute. Of course, we had to be uh taken through a number of things to expect, and especially for some of us who are not lawyers or did not have any legal background. And yes, I said, "I think I can do this job." Of course, it was nothing else but interpreting and translating. We had been informed—people don't understand the language of court; people don't understand English—so now that you are mugged, I think you are going to do us a good service; you'll be interpreting. I said, "Fine." Because now the reason why I was happy—it so happened that I was even an interpreter in church. So I feel like, "Aha, now I have it. Let me see this—the legal judgments and the English of court." I sit in court. I'm taken by the register that time in in to the magistrate—grade one magistrate—I was going to work with. I remember his day—I think is his worship, Wuba—that is the name. So they take me—small-bodied as I was then, a bit shy, but I was confident. I said, "Now, if I can interpret in in church, is there anything difficult for me now to do in this courts of law?" So I'm introduced to this magistrate, and uh, he said he liked me. He said, "The first impression—I like you. You know how to speak, and uh, you are not shy. I think we shall get on along together."

So to answer your question—because the story is long—the first day in court I was anxious, you know, and I think I had to gather enough adrenaline, you know, to build that courage, you know—somebody is talking in legal terminologies you don't understand, and you don't understand protocol—how you start—and but I kept listening because I wanted to learn. Interestingly enough, the first case we handle in this court is about um child neglect—that is grade one court. This man had not been uh providing for the family, the children, the the wife. But look at these people. I said, "This is something so amazing. These are people from our own church." I didn't know that they had a case in court. The brother sings in it. They worshipped him. I know he's well married to another sister. But now this is the other woman I did not know about who had dragged him to court and was complaining about his non-caring of the children and the family. So now as the judge—rather the majesty—speaks, I interpret. "Tell us why you are not taking care of this woman," alone. Now I just look squarely into his face. This man dropped to court. Probably he was very uneasy because we sing in the same worship team, in the same church. I didn't know this other side of story. By the way, this is also something very interesting. I got so many revelations and stories. People would come to court and they find me. What an embarrassment, you know. Well, I think it was God's doing. I was not a lawyer, but God took me there for a purpose. So this first day I did the interpretation very well. I got the record straight, and that was it. At the end of day, I go back to my magistrate. I ask him, "How have I done?" He said, "Oh, you are overwhelming. You know, this is—you got everything spot on. You are a very good interpreter, but I would encourage you that after six months, think about going to LDC." I do not even know what LDC is. I ask him, "What is LDC?" That is law development center. "Get a diploma; read the law very well. I know who knows—ten years from now—you'll be a very wonderful judge on magistrate." I said, "Fine, I will look into that." To be honest, that was not my thing. Law wasn't—I wasn't interested for one simple reason—I knew the law is corrupt, and being in the church confinement would read so many stories. When I remember this woman in the Bible who sought for justice before a corrupt judge, so I said, "No wonder why some judges are dubbed corrupt—it's already in the Bible; people should not hide under their beds when they talk about a corrupt judge—the story started 2,000 years ago with that judge. He was corrupt. This poor widow." I'm so glad that Madame Bau has brought it out. I don't know why widows are really poor. There is no way you can—poverty and widows. My dear, they move together. You talk of a widow, the next thing you will see poverty moving along with them. So it started in the Bible, and based on that, I for one did not like the law 'cause I knew in my mind—people are corrupt, lawyers are corrupt, judges are very corrupt. Even it's written in the Bible, but God wanted me to learn so many things interestingly. So from this church—rather from this court—magistrate court of of—I want to be honest with you—I don't know—but somebody—I don't know whether it was a rumor or something like that—because I am also a writer—I write poems—and when I land on anything that can really turn people's heads round, I pick it and pin it somewhere—at least for public consumption—let them read as they go to the bathroom, to the washroom; they'll get some good sense. Now this poem I landed on was about the parts of the body which wanted to become boss over the body—the head, the eyes—probably I'm dealing with lawyers; you've read something about the same, you know—about who would be the body parts were complaining and arguing over who would become the boss—the ear said, "Because we're very big. We are wide. We can become the eyes because we see where you are going." The legs—because we can carry you. But there is this one other man with the letter A from behind. I will not mention from here. He kept looking at them and said, "'Good. You have all talked how beautiful you are, how exposed you are. But for me, I'm always hidden and I'm not exposed. I will lock up and see whether I will continue boasting over who is boss.'" You see, so when Mr. H locked himself, these others came pleading for mercy, for justice. So it was so interesting. I happened to pin it somewhere on my desk in interview, but I was told over the weekend one of the magistrates, the chief—then I will not mention the name—as she was moving around, she comes across it on the wall, pinned on my side. She read it. Then this person looked and told him the story. He said the magistrate was very annoyed. I said, "I think this court clerk is a wiser. How can she put up something? She's like pointing at me. So does she mean to say that I am the Mr. A or somebody else?" I don't know. That one in itself landed me into big problems. In two weeks' time, I was given transfer to Rou as a court clerk. Imagine—I've been at the station for six months now. They want to send me to to—I tried to plead. I came to high court then uh talked to the person—personnel. She was a lady that time. I'll not mention the name. She did not have kind words. Already information from the magistrate had come to her. "This woman has to leave this station and go very far in well. She's a threat." Those were the words. I said, "A threat for what? I'm just a simple clerk." This one is a magistrate. She said, "You cannot add you. We cannot leave you on station with your boss. You have to go to the well." But somehow there is another judge. That time he came and said, "No, you should also listen to this clerk. Do you see how justice also within our court settings can also become a very big problem?" This is where it was started before we even look outside. You know, a clerk who's been on station for just six months. You want to send them to already? So when he sat me down, he talked to me like a father. He advised and said, "No, you will not enjoy your work here with that magistrate. What we can do—probably there is a slot in Piji. Somebody wants to locate to another district. I think you can take up that road, and I advise you take it up." I really took it up and I went to Piji. But all this was God's doing. I didn't know. I didn't understand. Remember, I'm not a lawyer. I'm just reading books and getting to learn and listen. Now in EPG, I get comfortable in EPG. I start working. Remember that time high court circuit courts would just rotate around, you know, the region, and we had one high court in Kampala, but during those sessions judges would come to our courts. On this particular session, this is what happened—a justice by the name of—no, judge—yes, lady justice—don't remember her name—no, but she's a pastor; she went to be with the Lord. Oh, I've forgotten her name. So when she comes to Piji for that session, she calls the chief magistrate then and asks whether they have an eloquent interpreter. But because I was new to the station, I found this other clerk already in place. She went there herself and she claimed to know everything, to have it all. They could not push me there because I was new to the station. I said, "Fine, let her continue," and you know how long these sessions can really take. Now the late Justice Naha—I've remembered the name. For those of you who have worked in with her in court, you know how long she would sit in court—from maybe 8:00 and maybe up to 7 in the evening. So for the first two weeks this clerk worked with the judge. It was so overwhelming until it reached a point when the judge said, "No, get me another clerk." There was no better option than me. So they call me; I come in court. I introduce myself. I start interpreting. I interpreted. At certain points she would look at me and want to continue writing because it seemed like whatever she would say, I would translate it very fast. Now she talks to the chief magistrate that I'm actually not begging or asking, but I'm going to take this clerk with me to international crimes division. The magistrate—the chief magistrate—asked, "Why?" He said, "Because this is a spot-on interpreter; whatever I say, she does not lose track of what I'm saying; she makes court very interesting, you know, and it appears every other court user has fallen in love with this interpreter," and during those sessions I would sit in court—the courts would be full—my Luganda was superb; people were just satisfied with the interpretation. Later on, people would even come back and ask—and even some lawyers—"Can you remind us what did she, you know, you break it down," because some of the legal jagons in English at times are difficult to break down into Luganda, but I could do it. So this is how it all started. So when the session ends, I find myself now in ICD—international crimes division—working with Lady Justice Naha. So we worked and uh for some—I think some two years—then were transferred to Nakawa. So in Nakawa I find there another judge—Justice—the late Musel—and Name. So and I think this is the time during one—during one of our court sessions that I also interacted with counsel—if I'm not mistaken. Yes. So we continued our work like this. I started enjoying court, but you can see the story—from now I find myself in ICD, and now I'm also in in Nakawa. I've been elevated now to being a court clerk for the judge. Now work was really overwhelming, you know—I had to teach myself; I had to be very attentive; I had to learn, you know—people talking about WSDs, people are talking about so many things, you know—but you know, like any new person working on a station—don't think you're very welcome to the old people that you found there; they may not even want to teach you—you have to teach yourself, you know—I had to teach myself because I knew I was not a lawyer. I was just a simple interpreter from church, and now I am in court, but because I was desirous and very very interested, I had to learn everything—by water, by fire, and force. I had to learn, and it turned out now that I start hearing stories from my back. Maybe this court clerk—somebody in the judiciary—"Why are all these favors going into her? Why is it that whichever judge comes around for a session, they want this woman to be the interpreter?" You know, these things do happen. But I didn't mind about that. My focus was—I want to learn law. Although later on at Nakawa, I thought of now going to LC, but the funds were not enough. I tried to ask people how they do it. Mhm. I heard of others being sponsored, but by which organizations? Was it the judiciary doing it? How was it being done? All I could get—others that time who are going to LDC—for us we just reach into our pockets and we pay the fees. It was overwhelmingly high. I couldn't do that one. So I just cooled down and said, "This is what is before me now. Let me work. I have a family to look after." The work was overwhelming. But the most important thing is that the judges now that I worked with in Nakawa taught me a lot. At times when Justice Name would be absent, I would work in the other court of Justice Musen, and I would learn, and I learned. So it was very challenging, I should say. First of all, we had to handle a number of cases, criminal cases and civil cases. And being one clerk working on all these files and at times staying very far away from court because I was still commuting from to Nakawa, I had to keep time to come around—organize court when there is a hearing. Ensure that every document is on a particular file. Ensure that uh the witnesses are in court so that when you start you don't embarrass yourselves by not having gotten the information from lawyers that these are the kind of witnesses that we have in court, you know, and so many things. So I kept on working and believing for a better day to buy side as a clerk. Now I would at times wonder, "Is this all that I was created to do? Come in court, interpret, arrange all these files, organize them, carry them, go to the computer, you know, enter cast the court administration system for updating cost uh court cases to know when um to know their status and when they are coming back to court." You know, it was really tiring. It would really bog you down. Then this is the time you would start thinking about even how much you are earning. "Is it really worth all the energy you are putting into this thing? Is this money really worth what you are putting into?" You know, because as an interpreter I used to give it by all. I was not only attending to court, I should say, but also to other clients of court outside court. People would come to inquire, you know, people would come to ask so many questions. It was overwhelming. But I was grateful and thankful on the other side that—who am I—a person who never went to law to law school. But here I am. There are certain things I can even do better than some of the lawyers, you know, they would even ask me. Now from there I went to high court criminal division as as the circuit was transferred to the main criminal division. So in um the criminal division, still I became the lead clerk working for the head of division—that time it was Justice Musen. So we continued working together. I was this time exposed to a number of things, a number of lawyers, a number of court users, you know, started finding out um the problems people were faced with to know how to handle them and refer them to where they would get what actually they need, the information they need, and I continued like that. But like any other human being, there is a time I made this statement to myself that when I clock 50 years, I don't want to see myself seated behind that chair and doing nothing else other than interpreting, you know. So I was now looking out for possible alternatives. What should I do next? But I remember I was invited by a certain lawyer who is running also um an NGO. She said, "I used to see you in court. You can talk, you can explain, you can do so many things. I want you to come in my organization, and I want you to teach and to interest young women to become future leaders. We have a module designed to empower these young women. We want to help them from school, from their small communities, and we want to make them better people to lead this country." I said, "Fine, now that you saw me in court do this, I think you also be better with you." So now when I joined this organization, which is Women's Democracy Network Uganda chapter, I decided to bow out of court in 2021. So I put in my early retirement and I said, "Let me go and serve somewhere else." But even then, the certain things I may not disclose here or maybe later on I may be forced to disclose. You must agree with me that we need to do business differently in our judicial system. And I think that's where—and I I I think that's where um we will—sorry—I hope I hope I'm clear. Um, I think that's where we want to to pick to.

Pick it from that point of: we must do business differently. And I think you've given us a fantastic eye view of your own career and the time that you served, um, and maybe we can maybe shift back to you, um, maybe let me first shift back to you, Christine, and then after me, al—after I ask you this question, then Alfred, we'll we'll we'll send a question as well. Uh, "We need to do things differently," is how Mumbai Jazz ended off. You have given us, Christine, as well a broad view of where—of where the state of legal and justice is. But um, can we can we talk stories? Can you just give us the cases which you saw? You gave us one, but could you give us the cases which you saw which—which impacted you apart from the one of 2000, the backlog one from 2000 up to 2025? The case is still ongoing. I had one recently, a judgment recently coming from—from the head court of Ginger, civil suit number—I forget the number—of 1999, but—but—but now the question to you is: seeing all these stories that you've seen, are there—are those which really stood out for you and what you saw from them and what you—what—what—what—what lessons you learned from them? The—the—the stories of—because you painted for us a picture—Mumbai has painted for us a picture of life in the court system, but you painted for us a picture of—of a court user, the difficulties—the difficulties—if you could just give us those cases which really stood out for you and which really people need to know, um, in—in—in the spirit of: "we need to do business differently."

Okay, thank you, Ellison. Um, there are many stories I could tell. Um, I'll give maybe one or two. I'll start with one back—in fact, in the human rights commission—of a man called Fred Bol. He got into a taxi in Nakawa, and he found that—that taxi in fact was not really a taxi. It was what these days you call them—what those bands—drone. It was then a drone, you know, in the early ear—early earlier—early—early—early around 2003, 2004. It was in fact a—a drone type. It had people trying to arrest someone, and he was—it was some kind of mistaken identity. So he entered this taxi wanting to go to Ginger, and they thought they had got the person they wanted. So they tortured this guy asking him for information he had no knowledge about, you know, and after they had kept him some—in some safe house for so long—for months—they realized he was the wrong guy, but you know what they done to him—they tortured him so much—I don't know things through—what they made him urinate on a live wire—they done so many things to that man. He shows up one day at the human rights commission, red eyes, looking as if, you know, someone's is about to, you know, grab him. He shows up, someone brought him. And then we go through that story. He goes through the human rights commission tribunal, you know, he's awarded 66 million Uganda shillings. For a poor man—he was a poor man—he used to do, you know, small—small trade. For a poor man, it was a lot of money. But at the time to get that money out of the Ministry of Justice, out of the attorney general's, you know, chambers was like going through an—an eye of a needle. First the world flared up over: how could he be awarded 66 million at the time that it was so much—even then it wasn't for what he had undergone. It wasn't a long story. At the time, if you wanted to get the money out of the attorney general's office, you had to sell your judgment to someone who knew how to work the corridors of the Ministry of Justice to be able to—to get the money. So, for example, 66 million, you accept 30, someone buys your judgment, they go, they have their connections, they get the money. It was like that. Anyway, this man, the long story short is that he died without accessing even a penny of that money. Why? Because the system didn't work. Because this access to justice system did not work for the poor. You hear people who say that justice is for the rich or for those that have money. It is true. Whether we like it or not, if you don't have money in Uganda, you cannot access justice. I've just told you about how a really well-functioning justice centers has been brought to its knees because government isn't interested in legal aid, you know, and yet you know we are a country of poor people. Guys, I want you to reflect on Uganda. We are a country of very poor people. So all our programs should be looking to the poor. How do we support them? You know the judiciary pays very little attention to poor people. Tell me what the judiciary does for poor people, and yet they are the majority of people. They are the majority of court users. Tell me what do they do? Okay, let me cut them some slack. Now the judiciary has—in fact—it's for everybody. The judiciary has put in place a very robust mediation program—like a revamped mediation program—with senior mediators, and also many cases are being mediated to reduce backlog. Of course, when they reduce that backlog, they also help the poor a little, but there are no programs directed to supporting the poor to access justice. Justice centers was a judiciary-hosted program—still is. But tell me what does the judiciary do to support justice centers apart from allowing them some space in some places to make sure that the poor can access justice as everybody else. So as it is right now, justice really is for those that have money to afford it.

So that story—Boli Fred died—a—a—a year can't pass without me thinking about Fred Boli. He had two little daughters. I don't know where they are. They couldn't possibly go to school. They were from deep down in a village. Um, I forget the name of the village now, but it was in Cami. I am sure those girls, when they were hitting uh puberty, someone made them pregnant or what, and they're gone. And let me tell you, when we think about a country, we must think about the healthcare system, we must think about education, and we must think about access to justice as three cooking stones without which we are wasting time. They all work together to support each other. Okay. If a parent can't take their children to school, you know, sufficiently—you know, sufficiently—to a school relatively good to get them somewhere, you know, what can—what are they good for? Anyway, so Bol died, didn't access the money. I am sure somebody found that out and at the money because the poor people in Bol's village could not have followed up that money. He died from the cause of torture, you know, the causes—the—the root cause was the torture he underwent—he, you know, died from that afterwards. That is Bol. My heart aches when I think about him today. That's Boli. Um, maybe a positive story—there was a lady, um, not too far—maybe somewhere in Gaza—they were losing their land—I think maybe she was—she seemed like a—a really emancipated woman. Mhm. She first came with her husband who wasn't any different. You could see that they don't have dinner tonight. They don't eat enough. But they were losing their only resource, their—their little piece of land on which their little house stood. So they come to justice centers, and we um do everything we can. That matter we ended up uh in court. We got judgment. We managed to save them that little house. The reason I tell that story of that woman is: one day she came to me with a cava. You know, cava—the light ones—like bread ones—or sugar—in which they put sugar when you go to the shop to buy it. And in that cava she had coins which—I think when you—I didn't count them—but which I think when you counted them they came to about 2,500 shillings. And she said, "I have brought this money to thank you for what you did for us." It's a—It's a—It's a positive story, but it makes me cry because that's all she had, and she brought it to me because she managed to get justice under conditions in which she never would have got that justice but for legal aid. So when we talk about legal aid, it's not a simple matter. Think about your village. Each one of us here has a village where you come from. Think about the people there. Majority of the people there are extremely impoverished people. We need legal aid before we need anything else. Think about us lawyers. Can we really uh handle these cases without, you know, being paid? No. So that's my second story. My third story is one of um a woman that was being thrown out of um her husband's past. You know, in Uganda we have this thing about: we run to culture when it serves us, and then we run out of it when it doesn't. So here we—in—in the villages still—we have this whole thing of um culture—when our relative has died, the uncles come in or the brothers—they want to take care of the children, and they want to get rid of the widow because they want to—lo—it's their family—their blood—they want to—but they're lying—they are hiding into culture in order to steal the little that has stayed for the widow and the children. So this widow shows up. The brothers-in-law have said, "No, you're not—" She was from the east. "You're not from our clan," okay? And in our clan, you know, you're not from here. You go back to where you came from. But let me tell you about African culture. When a woman leaves, you know, home, she has gone to make the clan of the husband because she's going to give birth to clan members of the husband. But then people hide in that. And let me tell you, things fell apart a long time ago. These things were culture—what—the way it was. It's no longer like that. Things—the center cannot hold. So she was losing her land. The children were being—had in fact already been taken away. But even after just one term, the children were not studying. Okay? They had been taken away by the uncles to be looked after. They were not studying. The lady has been taken off the land. The land has been divided among brothers because this is their brother's land, you know. Can you imagine the kind of greed? We are talking access to justice. The kind of greed—greed has stood in the way of access to justice especially for the poor. You know, people who have a little want to take even more—even from those that cannot afford. Okay. So anyway, long story short—from that story, uh, the lady came to us, we held mediations, many mediation sessions, many. And we ended, you know, to tell these people that you're outright thieves, you know. Yeah. You're not being—you're not being real about culture and—in our culture, and—in—you are not your outright thieves. Anyway, because we were—we had really coming from the judiciary, and the judiciary, you know, be justice centers being hosted at the judiciary was very helpful for us because really in a sense we were part of the court in that sense. So we had that force behind us to support people. So we held mediation sessions, came up with um, you know, a memorandum of understanding in which these people would leave the land, give it back to the lady, the children will come back to the lady, and that happened, and uh what we did then—what we used to do—I hope still happens—is that we would keep about 3 to 6 months following up to see if what we agreed has happened, as you know, mediation—if it's not done under court—the—the—the—the agreements you come up with are very difficult to enforce if someone goes back on them, and so you know you follow up in that way.

There are very many cases I can tell you. The last one I'll tell you was a case from when justice—when um his lordship the chief justice emeritus Benjamin Odoki was still in office. There was a case which uh justice used to call the bicycle case. Mhm. This guy somewhere in the—in Fort Porto, they asked him to do Bulongji. I don't know if you know Bulongji, but they asked him community service. You know, everybody in the village was expected to do that. He did his, he finished. He got his bike and he went to his other business. You know, whoever was enforcing uh community service said, "How can you be moving when everyone is doing?" He says, "But I have finished." He was an elderly man. "But I've finished. I'm now going to my business." They said no, they took his bike, you know, they, you know, disturbed him, took his bike, you know, and things like that. He got very angry. He went to court in Fort Porto. I came into that case when uh his lordship invited me into it somewhere in 2003, and that case up to today is not resolved. Okay. Now the biggest reason why cases of the poor are not—take an even longer time in courts—is because they can't afford. Okay? You know, if you—if you really are wealthy, if you have money, you will find ways to make sure your case moves. They do. You lawyers will bend your backs backwards to make sure that your clients get what they need. Even you—it takes long—but for the poor it will take twice, three, four, five times longer for them to ch—one case out of any court in Uganda.

Thank you very much for sharing such—thank you very much for giving us experience. Experience. Did you—do you have certain experiences that bring maybe a more human or more successful understanding—justice system—what you have in this country? And then maybe one question for Christian would be: um, we have the existing mediation that is happening, and obviously you've really very well expressed how the poor have challenges accessing justice and being able to have a case—he had even in mediation processes. But I think I've also had an experience where we have uh a fairly okay litigant who is able to afford—actually we do have a mediation that's ongoing uh maybe somewhere in Masaka with the justice center's office, and both parties were able to pay the 100,000—I think each—for the mediator—but when we started the process, we—it then came off as some of these litigants—especially on land issues—when they find a party that um maybe the opposite party is more capable of paying a higher amount of money, and they just use the mediation process just to delay—to—to waste even more time. And I think my question is: can we include more steps in the mediation process that make it—you know—where parties don't just sit down and talk and then it fails because the other party wants more money than uh—and they rightfully don't have the best case. In your experience, do you think that there are other things we can include in the mediation process that can lead to a more rewarding uh position even when the parties maybe don't agree on figures? I would really like to—to understand your experience on that as well and any input you might have. Thank you. Maybe we'll start with—with—with Mumbai. Merci.

Yeah. Basically, if—if I've picked—you want to find out from me whether there is any success story of somebody—litigant—for that matter—of court, one that was drugged in court maybe unfairly and subsequently they got some justice. It is true those cases are many, but I wish to site one of my own person from my community where I'm resident. I didn't know that this person had been in court for such a long time. This is a woman who was incarcerated for a very long time at a time when she got pregnant—is when she was actually arrested and put in prison over murder charges, and this is how it happened because in my community I used to hear that story, but little did I know that I would find these people in court of Nakawa. So this is how it started. It was late one evening when a security officer in the village—he was drunk. He had a gun with him, and he went to this busy community trying to shoot around. The stronger men and boys got him and even took the gun. Others came and beat him up because he was drunk. You know, he started bleeding and finally he died. Now people come around to find out who is this man that is dead and that's why he ended up being killed, you know. So this woman comes with a torch. It was around 1 a.m. She lights the torch to look at this man, a familiar man by the names of Kadogo. Hey, kabamote—that statement alone—little did she know that police had come, somebody had reported that somebody is being lynched and finally he's dead. So they find this Nakato woman who was at the time I think 5 months pregnant. They arrest her on the scene of crime. They put her in. Of course others run away. Now the case started dragging. Who are the people that killed this man? "Nakato, you must say because we found you there at the scene of crime with a torch. You must have known the people who did this, and actually I think you are one of them." So now because they don't get these people, Nakato was taken in. The case kept dragging and dragging for about 3 years. The sad bit about this story is that she even had her baby from prison. So by the time I come in Nakawa, Nakato is brought before justice Naha. Now these people of my community learn that I'm also working in Nakawa and in that very court of justice Naha. But of course because in my community I heard some bits about this story—which in myself I believed that of course the decision would be taken by the judge herself. You know, when we work in courts of law, we are very—very human. At a certain point in time, I believe even judges have to act like human beings when they decide these cases. Apart from the law—leave alone the provisions of the law that once you are convicted over these charges, this and the other, this is the punishment—but there are also very—very live human beings who can listen even outside court. Now because I was so touched by the story of this woman who innocently came with a torch that night—look at this man who had been killed—and finally finds herself in prison incarcerated that long and even gets her baby from there—I had to do something. But of course these people come and talk to us even as clerks. "Please talk to the judge. These are the bits of the story. This is what happened. This and the other." So to a listening judge, they will listen to that story. But of course we must not rule out the fact that they are very intelligent. They have to balance—is it really true? So now when I talked to the judge about this, I said, "Besides the submissions by the—the—the lawyers and what the state has to—to tell court—but this is the story. I know this woman. She's from my community. So it's up to court—if it pleases court—something has to be done about this woman." And let me tell you, during that time—now again people start hearing that, "Hey, the man who killed Kadogo is in Mua." You hear about that—is in Buma. Buma is so many miles away from here. I think you have to go through, you know—but now they almost deciding the case. But now the judge said, "For 3 years hearing this case, there is no witness—there is no what—now what can we do—even the accused person—the ones who killed—nowhere to be find—be found—whoever—go to Vuma." So now I left it to her. She told me, "Let us give ourselves space for a month and we see what we can do about this woman." The woman was desperate—she would cry each time she would appear in court, and everybody would be touched. But let me tell you, God does miracles. When justice Namia comes, she said, "I'm not deciding this case because you—the court clerk Bombaya—told me this and the other, but I find this woman is really innocent. She ignorantly ran with a torch that night, but of course as a pregnant woman, I don't think she would really beat the man who had a gun because those were the allegations that he had a gun—he was a security—whatever you—I don't think this woman could have done that. But out of curiosity, like any other human being, she found herself in the wrong place and at the wrong time." So now she was released. That was a success on my part. You know, when I went back to my community, now people are starting to say…

Mumbang, we love that woman. You know, she can talk to the judge. But of course, they did not know the circumstances under which the judge made that decision. You know, even L was on her side. So, humanistically speaking, the judges, the clerks, and every other person working within those confinements, we are very, very human. We do understand, but the only thing that can go wrong with us is to try to compromise or even choose to become corrupt, become corrupt of any sort. You don't want to listen. That is also corruption. Why don't you listen to these people? It is a decision and a choice one decides to take—that I will be corrupt.

My sister here from legal aid has said in Uganda we cannot have justice anymore because there is no money. Think about the situation. If I had demanded lots of money—that if I'm to talk to the judge, the judge has said, "You bring this and the other"—but at the back of my mind, I remember this is a woman from my community. And I think she talked of purpose. It was for that purpose that God took me to that court at that particular time to make this woman have justice. If I was not in Nakawa, you think about if I was in—probably should never have gotten that justice, you know. But now, from I find myself in Nakawa, the woman is granted justice. People went back home happy. She has talked about the 2,500 shilling coins, you know. But let me tell you, later on—I think it took like 2 months later on—after her release, she comes home to my home with her family to say thank you. But thank you with what? Chicken, m okay, because this is what they could afford. Thank you so much for what you did for our—She went pregnant, expecting a baby. She came out of prison with a three-year-old child. Just imagine. Think about that. Three years waiting for justice.

So I think we are in these offices. We are in these positions for a purpose. One of the things that I'm looking at, if we are to do business differently, let us question ourselves: What is my purpose as a lawyer, as a judge in this court? I think this is where people are getting it wrong. What is your purpose? People are looking at their big positions without serving a purpose. Why are you in that office? If you're not executing a purpose, get out of that office. The world outside is crying. The country is bleeding. You have all these credentials from a university, all these, you know, decorations from wherever, I don't know, but you are not fruitful. You are not productive. You are useless. You know, I'm sorry if I've used tough language, but yes, I'm just giving you one of those nuggets of how we should do business differently. Let us ask ourselves, are we the right people in these offices? What are you doing there?

And let me tell you, because I'm training these women to lead. Another thing I've seen that is actually going to spoil our system of justice is politics. Some politicians now think they can even do work for the judges and lawyers. They are getting it wrong. What do they know about the law? What do they know about justice? Because you can't tell me if you have a court case, even about your candidacy, how you came to parliament, you'd be the right person now to speak about, you know, maybe justice, judicial service commission, and the like. I'm sorry, I don't want to tread into that one because I'm not a lawyer. But of course, this, this is public information; we read and we also understand what are you doing there, politician? You don't know anything. You'll end up deciding cases which are going to become so disastrous and dangerous to us as a nation. But this is what is happening.

So I want to conclude by saying, yes, we have some success stories from these courts of law. If we, you know, we look at our purpose, why we are there, we are well able to help our people, even without paying a single penny. Once you execute purpose, the Lord's hand is upon you. I've talked about the corrupt judge. Let me tell you, judges have been corrupt way back 2,000 years ago. This widow came to this judge and said, "I want justice." She kept on persisting every day and night. "Please, please judge, you know, I want justice from you. This man is taking away my land. This man wants to take away my children." And here the statement this corrupt judge said, because he knew him—let me tell you, judges also know when they are corrupt and when they are not—he said it himself. Go and read the book of Luke, I think chapter 16 if I'm not mistaken, but it's in Luke. He said that even though I don't fear God or man, but because this woman has worn me out day and night asking for justice, I will grant her justice. What a statement. The man himself knew he was corrupt and did not fear God. So if you never get justice of some kind from these men, they don't fear God. They don't fear even men. And thirdly, they don't even fear the judicial system in place. So who, what kind of men and women are these? Why are they in these offices?

You know, for me, the time I sat in these courts of law, good enough, I'm proud because the judges I served with, I had no trouble with them and they had no trouble with me, and I have no regrets because they taught me a lot. They let justice—a very good Christian and a lawyer and a judge. Who tells you that a Christian cannot make a good lawyer? That is another point, besides purpose. We want to see godly men and women also in these courts of law. I wouldn't mind what kind of godliness. If, if you're Muslim, if you're a Catholic, you are local. I wouldn't mind, because now we are trying to find solutions. What can we do differently? Honestly, what have we, what have we done and what haven't we done? Men have read so many books. They are decorated with so many degrees. But you look at the countries, the justice system is shrinking. It is shrinking. Have these degrees become of any use to us? Something has to be done differently. Let us look the other side also. We want credible men and women in these offices who are kind, who are really human beings, who can feel, you know, and the irony of it is that some of these people even forget where they come from. When you are a judge in this big chair, don't forget about Kamongi where you used to go to school even without shoes. Those children are still going to school without shoes. They even have jiggers. But now, because you have this big car, you are a judge, people want to see justice.

B has really trickled my understanding into these three cooking stones, as she has termed them: the education, the health care system, and justice; they are very, very important. Look at her education. Some of our brilliant young men and women have been denied the opportunity to access quality education. Is that justice? Is it really justice? You are in an office, in a position of—even you are able to pay school fees for your children, but you still want to grab that small scholarship for this poor man in the village. Is that justice? You can afford to pay fees for your children, but you're not giving opportunity and space for these poor children. M, health care system—you can pay for yourself, but you still want this health insurance on you. Oh my dear, even justice itself—you know this land does not belong to you. She has put it out right, but you have the money enough to even buy your own land, but you want to take this one for free. This is killing us. What should we do differently? Go back to the roots. Remember that corrupt—he said, even though I don't fear God—he knew himself—those judges are there; you see those things are real, those things happen. So I think, merci, I have—it has been a lengthy explanation; I think I've answered your question. Thank you so merci, thank you for the question on mediation. I thought that the summary of that question was that how do we ensure more results from mediation. And um, the short um answer to that is that more success will come from mediation as a result of experience and professional expertise of mediators. Mediators are the masters of the process of mediation. Nothing else.

So for mediation, mediation right now is not regulated. Anyone who, you know, you know, can mediate, and we know that mediation comes actually from something that the judiciary had started to talk about. We had what we call the traditional uh uh justice systems. His Lordship, the Chief Justice likes to talk about the fact that, you know, we had our systems in Africa and they worked very well. When, when the western world, you know, with the ordering council in 1902 came and said, "Ah, yours are not what—yours are the other," they, you know, trashed everything and brought in what we now call the formal system. Our traditional systems, in a sense, went into a state of abence, but they didn't die. Believe it or not, go and read a research by—I think they are called Innovating Justice. People go more to the traditional justice systems, at least at the grassroot village level, than they go to court. Only 5% of the people in Uganda who have a legal problem go to the formal court system, go to the judiciary, and that judiciary gets only 5% and is overwhelmed and is backlogged. Imagine 95% of all the challenges that arise are addressed, if at all, at the grassroot level through those traditional justice systems.

So um, I think our colleagues plan to ask us, but we can answer some of these already. What should we do? The judiciary had started a process in which there was need, and they were hoping and going to link the traditional justice systems to the formal court system so that they would—the formal court system would lend force to the results of the traditional justice systems—because their elders in Buganda, for example, there are real courts with people sitting in hearing of cases, you know, hearing in a way that is, that is more acceptable to the people who go to those systems. I'm sure other parts of the country do that, and we know in the north there's all these ones. There's um, what's the other one? Um, mut—there are all these—there's sense in them. There's value in them. The missing link is how do we link them into what we call the formal system so that those results can, can be counted, but also so that the force of law that we have through the judiciary can also be lent to those systems to support especially the poor. You know, the poor go to those ones because they are free. And by the way, there's no bribery there. There's no corruption in those systems. It's not there. People go there, and the mosa listens to you and he doesn't expect anything from you at all. But in our judiciary, things are tough. Okay? Things are very, very tough. And it's not only the judiciary itself, but it is the whole system. Hey, our table-banging president of the Law Society—so much needs to be done about lawyers. If we start—that should be another show. If we started really on how lawyers have stood in the way of access to justice, we will do two days. So let's bank that for another day. But you know, so much can be done. Lawyers need to be reigned in, okay, in many, many ways, because they are standing in the way of access to justice. The judiciary—I fear to say and to ask—but meaningful and efficient performance management. Okay, we're talking about reducing codec case backlog. If we don't have that, we're lying to ourselves.

Okay, the other thing I thought about—so I'm answering this and also, you know, observing that we are sort of running out of time—so bringing in these other things. So uh, for mercy, mediation definitely needs to be handled by people that have the experience and professional expertise. You might say, "How do you get the experience?" Okay, start with professional expertise in mediation. Mediation also, you can go to school, you can have a master's in this area and do a good job academically and then build the experience so that you can be the master of the process of mediation. Mediation is about the process to support the parties to resolve their matter. So many matters fail because the mediator is not in charge of the process enough. Okay, I'll say that for that. What else can we do? She, the Mumba, keeps saying, you know, things need to change. Things need to change. Things need to change. In Uganda, we say one of the things that should improve is the whole issue of awareness, awareness creation. 50%—this is my own view and I am allowed to give it because I've worked—I've been a lawyer for 24 years—50% of all the access to justice challenges that people experience would not happen if they were legally aware, if there was awareness creation at all levels, if the judiciary had a component—it used to—even the Judicial Service—I don't want to talk about the Judicial Service Commission. One day, might want to be a judge and then, you know, but if the Judicial Service Commission, they have that arm of um, civic educ—civic education—yes, the Human Rights Commission does, the judiciary does—if they don't, they should—at all levels, people should be given full information, you know. There are countries in which—I think even Rwanda here—people are given full legal information at all levels. In Uganda—mute—100%. So because they don't know, so many things happen to them. They do so many wrong things. People get into agreements and they don't write. They trust people when they shouldn't. All sorts of things happen. Give the information. At least give the information. And for that, I'm grateful to this space by Ellison because you're creating awareness in many ways that otherwise wouldn't have been created. I could say a lot, but that's it. Even corruption would be cut in half, by the way, if the people—the ordinary person in soap—soap in chamk—I ly without asking a question on corruption. You know, part of building integrity means also rooting out corruption wherever it exists. We missed out on what because you refuse to do because the—is corrupt and you don't like lawyers because lawyers are corrupt and probably lawyers because of corruption people cannot access justice. But still, part of building integrity we mean we need to brute corruption wherever it exists. It also includes holding officers accountable. Not, not just junior stuff like maybe where I was—crack—and we get the small fish instead of probably the big fish. It also now includes building access and integrity and restoring trust between citizens and the court. So from, from your experience, what can we do differently to root out corruption in the—between—in our courts and even to restore public trust in our courts? Because as you said, you want to do things—you want to do things differently. What do you think can be done differently to restore trust in our courts and even our judiciary and hold officers accountable? Even the senior officers, not just the junior staff, the so-called small fish. Thank you. Thank you so much. That's a very important question—you—a very straight answer because uh, some of these issues which have actually become bigger than big and even higher than the highest mountains, I should say. We need processes to undergo in order to cover them. If it is a now question, what we should do differently, but we should also look at the problem—we are—address the magnitude of this problem—problem—the corruption you are talking about in the judicial uh system of Uganda—how many times have we talked about corruption? As far as I can remember, the 40 years that our President Museveni has been in office, this issue has been coming out time and time again, and not only in the judiciary. But when we talk about a system—to me, in the simplest terms of understanding how a system works, these are different components, you know, interconnected or worked to support a cause. Because you can't talk about the judicial service system and probably forget about the education service system. Who educates these judges and lawyers? How do they get to these schools and universities? Who chooses the courses that they are going to do? We don't know the course contents. Then two, we talk about even their health. By the time this man decides this case of a woman in court, were they mentally sound? Who checks their health before they come to these courts of law? Who can ever know what is in their heart and their brain? These are really tough questions to do. But I would also think, as we strive to see how we are going to do business differently, let us first have respect for institutions that are already in place that have been addressing such issues of corruption, in all these institutions that are supposed to better our lives as Ugandans. The other time I saw a magistrate in court, a person who is supposed to give justice but is now in court. What went wrong? Have not really—we have not understood the importance of these institutions before us. Gives the justice—who consumes the justice? I think it goes back. I'm not giving you a straightforward answer. Let us—special—the systems that push us into these offices. Where did you get your education from? She has talked about the traditional systems we have here in Buganda. A case in point—when something goes wrong these days—women beat men. The first thing they will ask. So now also let us go back—where did these judges get their education from? How can you decide when you know the Supreme Court has given, for instance, a ruling, but again you still have your hands on this issue? We don't understand that. Let us go back. We cannot just treat the malaria now. We need to slash the bush behind our house where the mosquitoes breed. But because people want to fast-track these things—my dear, this problem is very big—corruption in the courts of law. Who has—by the way—those days when we used to desire to go to university—not many of us would go to university—but these days—public, private universities—everybody is producing lawyers. She has talked about them standing in the way of justice, but thank God those lawyers are not here on the panel tonight. Yes. Thank God they are not here, otherwise we would not have had this space to talk about this. To answer your question, we need to go back. We need to rethink. We need to be ready. Yes. Thank you. Yeah.

Okay. I think um, thank you so much. We're about to come to the end of the conversation, and—Um, get some capable guys who can handle some of the smaller stuff, and they, and they, and they do it because what you are doing is not good for you and the people. Why are you doing it? And so my question to you, Christine, is where do you stand on this issue of ours—of mission-based judges? The argument is under and Article 1422 of the Constitution. The Constitution provides that where the state of the business of the court so requires—in other words, where the judiciary is overwhelmed by the state of the business of the court—the president may, acting on the advice of the Judicial Service Commission, appoint people to serve in—we can read the actual provision—but to serve in, in, in, in acting or temporary capacity. And so what we are saying is that the Constitution allows that where the courts are overwhelmed, bring in senior advocates who can come in, solve the judicial backlog challenges, for example, and go back into their practice like lawyers are doing in arbitrations, for example—lawyers are doing mediations—we are saying that their lordships are almost as uh, overwhelmed as Moses. So where do you stand on that, on that issue? Thank you, Ellison. And why not? Really, why not? Is it about the judiciary, or it's about the people? It's about the people of Uganda. The problem with us in Uganda is we've turned everything upside down. What should have been was that the people we appoint into the offices serve the people. It isn't us to serve them. But man, everything has turned around. We serve the people we appoint into office. They throw us off the streets with sirens and police cars that we have paid for. Policemen and women that we've paid for. When we have this in our neighborhoods and we call the police, they are not there, but they are busy accompanying private cars of big people. I say that to say everything we do, you know, the people in authority using our taxes, everything they do should be with the ordinary person. Uh, well, Ellison is not necessarily ordinary, so I can't even say him, but me and Maja, the ordinary person in Uganda. Okay. And so this mission-based judges issue—I think even somebody toyed with it a while ago. I don't know within the judiciary. I don't know how it died or where it died, but somebody did toy with it because you know—

Appoint a judge for two years, give them a case load to deal with. After their two years, no ceremony, no gratuity, no nothing. They are paid for their two years, their money in those two years for which they’re working, every month or per case delivered, and be gone. In fact, it should be per case delivered, you know.

Now, in the revamped mediation program, they pay in like three ways. So, if you resolve a matter, you mediate a matter and resolve it, you get a certain, very little stipend. If you mediate it halfway, you get a certain, you know, half of that. And if you mediate it and it fails, they say, "Okay, thank you. But here is something very little." Okay? And some mediators were saying, "Oh, even if the matters failed, pay me fully." That would be encouraging laziness. Let’s encourage the mediators to resolve every matter and get the highest amount. Okay? And so that same way, you could do this mission-based judges business; say for every case you conclude, you get so much. Then the judges would be spurred onto writing the judgments.

You know how many judges—not all of them, and please don’t quote me wrongly—some judges write, uh, listen to cases, complete them, and take two years before they deliver a judgment. Lo and behold, they used to be transferred. I don’t know what goes on now. They would be transferred and leave the undecided cases behind. And so, who’s going to write that judgment when you listen to the whole case and you didn’t deliver, didn’t write the judgment? So, we need that yesterday. I think that the judiciary right now is in a position to do, to bring on so many of these innovations. And I see that the chief justice and his whole team have the willingness to. So maybe somebody needs to nudge them. Maybe somebody needs to push on it. Maybe I don’t know why it’s not happening because at least they have the resources now. They didn’t have the resources before. So please, can we have it yesterday? Thank you.

Sorry, Mumba, I know you worked for in court for quite a long time and you have experienced case backlog. So we have, for the past weeks, we have been—whereby the business of court requires that you appoint someone just on the mission, fight case, and that’s been trying to discuss too deep. So I, I know the article straight, but just paraphrasing it: Where the business of court requires the commission, on advice of the chief justice, can appoint lawyer judges on a temporary basis, like a year or two, go and clear that place backlog, or clear that of which requires to be handled at that particular time. So we have been having arguments for and against it, and now we would like to have your take on the whole thing. Yeah, thank you so much. That concern is very, very important. Uh, it is true. I’m proud to say that, um, one of those experienced, um, court clerks that has served the criminal division for quite some years with the judiciary, I should say, for 19 years. But um, the case of uh, clearing the backlog in courts of law, she hinted on partly why we have this case backlog. Some judges or magistrates are too lazy. You know, they can fast-track these cases, and then when it comes to the deciding part of ruling, they will take quite a very long time. She has talked of two years, and it is true. By the time I went to Nakawa, this is the problem that we found there. And uh, you said on the advice of the chief justice through the judicial service commission, you should appoint, you know, able judges and magistrates to that effect. Yes, I would concur with that one. It is very important. But this should be experienced men and women in the law because there are some of these cases in the backlog which are very, very difficult; probably that’s why even they are abandoned by certain judges; they don’t know how they’re going to conclude them and even decide them. Deliberately, they will buy time, maybe even people who qualify to be appointed as judges, so those are experienced 15 years and above. So yeah, it is very important. You will not pick somebody who has been in service for just three years to come and, you know, decide or write a judgment on a land matter which has taken over 30 years. That one will not work. And even the people who are still living will even wonder. So that is very true. It is the only way we shall clear this backlog. The time I was in Nakawa, in fact, they had to do a weeding out of most of those cases; the parties would no longer come to court, you know, and in itself that was justice denied. Nobody would handle, nobody would be interested anymore to listen to these cases. So, what they had to do, of course, they had to decide and agreed to weed them out. Over 5,000 cases. They were all weeded out.

But you said partly you don’t agree with the appointment of these men and women, even given advice by the chief justice through the judicial service commission, for reasons I don’t understand; probably you might think maybe I would also concur with you; maybe we may not have those experienced lawyer, rather magistrates or judges, but also on the other hand, they are people who are committed to the cause. I’m not entirely looking at a person of experience of 15 or 20 years to be the right person to handle this backlog, but we have young men and women, five years in service or maybe seven years in service, who are very zealous, who are committed to the cause of the people, because people keep coming to—first of all, the lawyers we have this matter, how can we handle it? It has taken so many years before they even get to the judges. Remember, I would agree with you. So I think the judicial service commission should listen to the lawyers we have outside there who are hanging even on the streets. They don’t know what to do. They have a lot of information. They have a lot of energy, vibe, but they don’t know how they’re going to dispense it, you know. So, something has to be done. I think it is very important. I, for one—because who knows what is going to happen tomorrow—why don’t you give them a chance? If you were given a chance for 15 years to hear all these cases and you’ve decided them, what makes you think that these people who have been in service for five to seven years, they cannot do anything? They can do it. Why? With the recent technology in place, people have a lot of information, more information than what those other judges even used to have. And you know this is an evolution. These cases keep evolving. You know where somebody used to kill probably with a stick, this time they’re killing with guns, you know.

Oh, dear. You can hear me out. I think we had a small technical issue, but I think um, we can now hear you. Yes. I’m sorry about that. This is technology, but I was on the point of um, they had most of, most of… Yes. Yeah. I’m still emphasizing my point of having um, uh, advocates who have been serving in courts of law to be brought on board through the ser—the judicial service commission and make them judges. She has talked of mission-based judges to come, maybe once upon a time they agree on how many cases to handle and how much tip they’re going to be given, but I may not entirely be on that. The most important thing is to give the young judg—the young lawyers, the upcoming ones, you know, who are very zealous, who have this information, you know, give them a chance, let them come and do this work of clearing the backlog. Otherwise, if you don’t give them a chance and you think they are amateurs, they cannot do a thing; these cases will keep piling, and this will amount to no justice; it will be justice denied. So I mean, for more judges and um, most especially uh, the advocates that we have from various institutions of learning, and once they are committed to the cause, why don’t you give them the opportunity to do that? They can even do better. Thank you, thank you much. So much. Actually, there’s also a provision which deals with the young lawyers; we discussed it some, some time back, but for the interest of time we may first ignore it today. You have any…

And as you come to ask your question, you’re having the conversation and you have been there since… we don’t have your question, your remarks, or whatever you want to share with us. So anyone who has a [Music] question or will be hearing your comments or additions to the conversation at this point to ask a question before we can proceed. Thank you. Can someone make sure we’re here? The profession of justice in our country. I wanted to just um, ask them for maybe their experience and in a summary of three pointers. I know Christy has emphasized the issue of funding for different um, NGOs and different advocates for helping poor people in different areas access justice at a more affordable price, for instance. But maybe away from funding, what other uh, paramount steps does she think we need to take to improve the access to justice for the people who are disadvantaged in our society, the poor, the women, just different groups of people. I would like to hear maybe three pointers that these are the next steps we think that we need to take that we can, as you know, we can push those particular steps forward. And then I think for um, I just also would like to understand, keeping in mind that now she has taken a different route of educating women on different issues relating to justice systems and how they can access justice in this country. I’d like to also know what three steps that she thinks that the lawyers and also the judiciary need to take um, in order to enhance the programs that she’s part of and also enhance access to justice for the groups of people that she’s talking to. Um, thank you very much.

Okay, maybe, maybe before we we take those questions, I see Mr. Kanga. Um, I don’t know if he’s been added as a speaker. Um, I think if we could also just take Mr. Kanga’s question at once, then we can start uh, winding down. I don’t know Mr. San Panga is a solicitor in London, Wales, and uh, it would be very good to have his question on… anyhow, uh, as we are waiting to do that, maybe we can be answering that question, or maybe we’ll start with Mumba and then we’ll go to Christine, the three pointers. I if we just take about five minutes or each because I can see it’s already past 9:00 p.m. Thank you. Sorry. Mercy again. Yes. But I think we want to look… The three pointers from here on what we should do in ensuring that um, justice prevails, especially in our big institution of justice. The judiciary, a very big issue in this country. My sister here has talked about land issues in her justice centers where she’s serving, and it is very, very important because if we are to move forward as a country and we forget that the mothers or the women are the determinants of whether we are having a population of people or not. And if we disregard the issue of justice, then some of the things will never happen to us as a country and even to make our life easier or better. So I will not really digress from what Bidaba talked about, the three cooking stones. I’ll not forget that one. Pointer number one: we need to educate our women. Experience has shown that women can be trusted. Women can administer justice. That is true. Secondly, we have a pointer on health. These days in Uganda, I hear when you go to it, it appears everybody is becoming crazy and mad. We don’t know what is happening. We need to address that issue. It’s very, very important because one leads to the other. If we don’t tackle these things properly, this is why we shall end up having no country. We shall end up having no judicial service credible enough to handle these issues. Then justice as in justice, who are the people that are going to administer justice? Edison has talked about and quoted the scripture in Exodus. The work became overwhelming for just one man, Moses; backlog. The backlog was too much for Moses to handle. And it is the same case in Uganda. But we have so many lawyers moving on the streets, so many advocates. So now let us look at the education system. How are we going to handle this so that we can produce credible men and women to handle issues around justice, then the health in itself, and then the justice. These are the three pointers, Mercy, I’m looking at because even when I’m training these women, all of them are looking to one thing; they also want justice where they are; we want to become credible leaders in our country; we don’t want to be corrupt. You know, we want to do business differently from what others have failed to do for us. We shall register successes. So, it is very, very important. Every one of us matters. Every Ugandan counts. Every Ugandan matters. So we must know how, when, where to handle all these important issues so that finally we can have our motherland Uganda and enjoy it to the fullest. Thank you.

Um, thank you very much. Um, thank you Mari for the question. Um, I think I already said what I think uh, should be the sort of three takeaways or what I would do if I had all the money in the world or if I was um, somewhere in the hierarchy in Uganda. One is information, education, and communication. You know, you know, let the people—give the people the information so that they at least know where to start when they have a problem. If I—if wishes were horses, I would wish for a call center, either a call center by the judiciary or a national call center; either a call center by the judiciary or a national call center, but maybe a call center by the judicial where you can call and ask any question that you want. These days a phone has become a basic necessity. Even in the deepest village, somebody will have a phone. And so if someone has a problem and that number is well publicized or the numbers, you know, a well, someone will ask a question when they have a problem. Chances are if their question can be answered correctly, that person who’s taking advantage of them because they are ignorant will not steal their piece of land. Okay. So can we do that? Ellison, maybe you can. You have some banan—you know who can help us to establish that. I did already talk about this many years ago to donors to who didn’t succeed, but it doesn’t kill the dream because I think that someday things will come right. Secondly, to encourage what we call uh, alternative dispute resolution, you know, this is where you can resolve your matter without necessarily going to litigation; you get a third-party person or third party who can help you to resolve your matter. When two people in the village have a a boundary problem, when a husband and wife have a problem, when a child and parent has a problem, when business partners have a problem, when a buyer and seller has a problem, get a third neutral person. So, we should all, especially lawyers, we should all be encouraging ADR. Lawyers are here, and I sometimes experience it; they don’t like ADR because they think that they don’t earn enough from it. So I would like to say that it’s important to encourage ADR because it will contribute greatly to access to justice by all, especially by the people who can’t afford the services, you know, of a lawyer to go to litigation. Uh, thirdly, I already talked about it. Create a link between the formal and the traditional justice systems so that they can support each other to support especially the ordinary person and the poor and indigenous person that can’t afford on their own. Finally, as players, uh, okay, what do I do? I uh, we have a firm which does alternative dispute resolution. And the reason we started it was because I wanted to be able to support people without having to rely on a system that I have no control over. So we do mediation, we do arbitration, we do many things around alternative dispute resolution, and I have the freedom to support the poor, and many poor people come to our center and we serve them for free, you know, because we know they can’t afford, and we don’t lose anything. In fact, by the way, I find that God has blessed me a lot as a result of that. So to encourage us, every lawyer in your little neighborhood, you know, what can you do to support access to justice for those people that you see that can do nothing about it, you know, that can’t afford, as the players in the administration of justice system and therefore the enablers—supposed to be the enablers of access to justice. We must each ask what can I do to improve access to justice? You at your individual level, you as a lawyer, you as someone occupying a public office that is within the sphere of administration of justice, what can you do today? Thank you.

Thank you. I was I was trying to get Mr. … Yeah, you can speak just a bit. Thank you so much. Thank you so much for organizing this very good session. I’m so sorry. Um, my experts… I I don’t know… let’s have a get… you know… to speak… the network is not very good, so I’m sorry if I interrupted earlier. Reflective conversation… I had the opportunity before to thoroughly listen and conceptualize, you know, the problem… time zones… but today I got the chance as I was traveling in Northampton to listen in and and reflect, and it reminded me of a quote by the current president of the law society of England and Wales, President Richard Atkinson, who says that there has been a significant increase in solicitors working pro bono this past year, and whilst it can truly… a properly justice system. So I think as a part of uh, judges, I think we need to reflect, like has kindly said, the importance of, you know, um, of funding uh, the judiciary because when you hear about stories of um, poor people who are not able to access justice simply because they do not have the funds, because they do not have the money. That’s you know, quite something appalling. That’s that’s the first point. Secondly is about even young lawyers being able to participate, you know, in you know, litigation-based purpose in terms of solving case backlog. I’ve appeared in tribunals of, you know, of lawyers who seem to be less, you know, 35 or even less. I’ve been told about it. Sorry, this a judge rather, of judge who’s you know, less than 35 or less. I’ve um, been told of a judge who’s uh, you know, uh, 29, and personally also attend, you know, session between sessions between lawyers and and judges, young people um, solicitors to sign up, you know, get… please send me a message, send me an email if you would like to, you know, come and join and u you know, help in this uh, case of this mission, you know, to solve these hearings, and judges are also thinking innovatively. And we try reduce the general issues if they’re similar, you know, on the general issues at once, then look at them individually. But in summary, I I’d like to thank you so much Ellison for this really mission of going back to what is the real purpose of judges? What is the real purpose of lawyers? I was reading a quote recently by the vice president of the law society in Uganda, and he was talking about law being a calling, the business and not just, you know… thank you so much for this really deep and conversations which will really remind us of the purpose you are called to serve and not just to make money, to those who need it. So, thank you so much our dear panelists for this deep and insight. Thank you, Mr. Kanga for your comments. We’ll have respond to them and even… thank you so much. You’re welcome. Thank you very much for connecting me despite the technological issues. Thank you so much. You can come back to the space. We do. Thank you. Very big… Yeah, I think um, I think thank you. Yeah, you can… I think thank you Mr. Kanga. I think it is such an honor that we are here sitting in Kampala having this discussion at 9:17 p.m., all the way in London coming from… is it Hampton to somewhere to… there’s a solicitor of the courts of England and Wales who has taken time off to listen to us and to encourage us, and I think a time needs to come, Mr. Tampanga, where we have you and where we have a discussion also with other… a detailed discussion comparing our jurisdictions and seeing what happens where you are. We shall certainly be in touch with you in that regard. I think we’ve now done… maybe I don’t know how to ref… what I think we have… sorry, we have done all the questions; I’m not seeing any more requests and… but before you… maybe I had one concern from inbox… last space you had told people that we… about to…

Vote. So the concern is: before we go to get their parting shots, they're wondering, "Update on what happened in court the other time?" We're like, "Very, very soon you are voting." So is it very soon? Just an update of what transpired? Maybe let's have the parting shots first, then I'll check. Listen, if you want to listen when we are going to vote or whatever they're comfortable with, I don't know. Let's have the parting shots first.

Yeah, so you can have first from then closing remarks. And we get Madame Christine.

Okay.

Yeah. Thank you so much. I wish to close like this: that the battle uh we are fighting now of getting access to justice in Uganda is still on. It is not a one-way traffic for only justice givers. But this is to every Ugandan. Wherever you are, there is something you can do. There is something you can decide. There is something you can determine, as long as you believe that the result shall be for the betterment of yourself and others surrounding you. So I think this is the time to break down justice for everybody to understand, and I think this will help them know exactly what to do, when and how. And of course, I can't forget what my sister has just said. The awareness of the justice system is very, very important. Once we get to know about that one as Ugandans, I think our country shall be redeemed from the power of injustices surrounding us currently. Thank you. Sorry, I don't know why your name. Sorry about that.

We can have um first I would like to say thank you very much Ellison and team for inviting us um to this space. Uh we don't take that for granted. We yeah, so very grateful for that. Secondly, um I think that we need the mission vest judges yesterday because if we had them already, probably the story of backlog would be a very in in some of our past history. Okay, some of our history. So let's get to it. I don't know who should be responsible for it, but let's get to it. Um, thirdly, um and finally, before you go to sleep tonight, whether you're a lawyer or, you know, any on the space, anyone of us on the space or any other person listening in, think about the poorest person in your village. Think about if they needed legal help, what would they do to successfully get it, and how can you contribute to that today? Thank you very much.

Thank you. Um there's a gentleman called Mr. Skala who has been I think I've seen a message from him that he wants to speak. I don't know if he was allowed as a speaker, but maybe Mr. Sala, are you there?

Yes. Yes. Yes. Please, if you could just wind it up in a in a in a minute. We've we've we've we've held our guests for long.

Yeah. Thank you, Miss. Message from the Nationals and Assembly, an organization that brings together the imams, the people who lead prayers in the mosques. And Miss Vawa brought a point that uh actually people on the ground they don't know who is a lawyer, what lawyers do; they just know that you call a lawyer when you're in trouble, when you are you in court. So people in the crowd need to know what lawyers do, what's their law. Some people don't know even what lawyers—people in prison—they they don't know how even to contact a lawyer; they don't know how they reach out to a lawyer. So there's that gap. So another thing, I have a workshop on 15. Maybe some someone from here from this space will get rich to me. I have a a workshop called the bridge between the Muslim community and the government organs. So I'll be glad if I get one speaker from here to come and teach people the Muslim community, the Muslim leaders, what lawyers do, who is a lawyer, how how to contact a lawyer, and other things. Thank you very much.

Thank thank you so much sir for for for joining us. Now I'll answer. I think I think we shall certainly be trying to ensure that we are able to to assist on that and we shall certainly be in touch. Um the question Alfred asked me I think which will be the last one for the night and then we'll close it up is what's happening with the voting.

Yes. Yes. Uh colleagues will know that on the 3rd of December 2024, the the Uganda Law Society nominated 14 people to contest for the position of judicial service commission representative, and we were supposed to vote on the 17th of December, if my memory serves me right, which was a period of 14 days. We have instead been going for this vote for the last 148—what should have been 2 weeks has become 21 weeks—and um that's why I can assure you we're closer to voting now than we were in December of uh of last year. In line with that, but for me what is important is when we have conversations like this um I know it's it's it's when we have conversations like this it's encouraging because what we are doing is we are taking the conversation from its root, from people who have been at the forefront like our guests today, who are very grateful for, and we're so thankful. I I heard you you you you saying that you're thankful to us, but I think we are the ones who are extremely grateful to you, and these conversations show us that we are not wrong. We are not wrong to press on with these conversations. We are not wrong to press on with these campaigns. I mean even now in the midst of this discussion we have found that not only does the constitution agree with us, even the Bible agrees with us. So surely we cannot be wrong. Um but we've taken so far 148 days. We've done now 13 weeks I think.

Yes. Yes. 13. 13 weeks of these conversations in a campaign that should have taken us a fortnight. What happened in court is the election was delayed. It was delayed because of disagreement. Yeah. It was delayed because of disagreement. Uh the court of appeal tried to get us to settle. We had reached 99.9% of a settlement between the parties, but the 0.1% was too much to to get us across the finishing line, and um the court will now make the decisions that it has to make. But um the fraternity of the law society is bound together by law. We are bound together by law. We are bound together by a common purpose. Uh delay is the oldest trick in the book of denial. That case which has lasted 25 years is not just because they are poor people but because someone who is wrong has to delay. Delay is the oldest trick in the book of denial. But let us be clear: this election shall come. Some people thought that time shall be an ally of injustice. But in this case, what I've learned from this election is that every hour that passes makes the cause for this election stronger. And every day that passes makes the arguments we are making clearer. For us at least, we are committed to continuing this journey. We are committed to pushing it forward. We are committed to ensuring that we stay the course, and the law is our shield. The constitution is our compass. The support of the membership is the wind beneath our seals or whatever the winds. We are marching forward. We are pressing on. We are confident of this. We have said it since the 17th of December when the when this process was injuncted. We said nobody can stop reggae. Reggae may have been delayed but reggae is not stopping, and we are sure that nobody can stop reggae. So people joining us from everywhere, we always say this at the end: Good morning, good afternoon, good evening, and good night. And for members of the law society, when that time comes, the question is the same question of Mr. Matu. [Music] Thank you for those. [Music] Yes, you're in this sport. [Music]