Thursday started as most days do, working through a pot of coffee while tackling the accumulation of email that came in during the night. That all changed at 8:30 when the phone rang. It was our lawyers in Lae informing me that we (the PNG branch) had a court case on the docket for 9:30. Back in 2006 the branch had taken a former tenant to court over unpaid rent. Even though the case had been settled in our favor, the branch had never received a cent of the money due and we had long ago given up even trying to collect. But for some reason that case was scheduled for some kind of hearing first thing in the morning.
Our lawyers had never received any official paperwork indicating what was going on. They just happened to notice our name on the docket for Thursday. We too had never received any information about the hearing. So I grabbed our file on the case, without a clue in the world about what was going on, headed off to the courthouse.
Being the time-oriented westerner that I am, I got there a bit early, well actually a lot early as it turned out, and sure enough, there was Pioneer Bible Translators vs our previous tenant listed as the first case in civil court.
Having never actually been to court in PNG, I had no idea of what to do, where exactly to go, whom to see, etc. etc. And since there did not seem to be any authority figures present I decided that the best course of action would be to simply have a seat, watch what was happening, and try not to do something stupid. There were four separate categories of cases to be heard on Thursday: Juvenile, Adult Criminal, Family, and Civil. All the cases for all four courts were scheduled for 9:30. And there were only two court rooms. This was going to be interesting.
9:30 came and went and there was still not an official looking person to be seen anywhere on the compound. There were a few people like myself milling around waiting for their hearing, but no judges, clerks, janitors, or anyone else. Ten o’clock came and went; still no one was around. Finally at about 10:20 a police van drove up filled to capacity with ne’re-do-wells. It looked like one of those cars in the circus filled with clowns; one after another after another after another the men piled out of the van until the spectators were left wondering how they could have possibly all fit. The mob then filed into one of the court rooms, several minutes later a judge appeared, and Adult Criminal court began.
Apparently the system is run on a first come first served basis. The first two judges to show up in the morning get the court rooms and the later judges and their “customers” have to wait. Shortly after the adult criminal court started, another judge arrived and juvenile court began.
At about 11:00 across the courtyard a clerk of some type walked out of a door and began calling out names. When he called for “Pioneer Bible Translators” I hurried over and acknowledged that I was there and ready represent the mission. He called a few more names, made some notes on his paperwork, and disappeared without a word into the building.
Justice continued to grind along in the two court rooms. The juveniles were called one by one to take the stand, the judge asked a few questions, and then one by one they, along with some very somber looking parents, were dismissed to come back another day. Meanwhile the same thing was happening in the criminal court, although not many were being dismissed. By noon both court rooms were empty. The juveniles had been led away by their parents and the criminals had been shoe-horned back into their van for the trip back to prison. Meanwhile a dozen or so others, including yours truly, continued to mill around, visit, and wonder when or if we would have our time in court.
At 12:30, just as I was getting ready to leave to grab a bite for lunch, an official looking man came out of the offices and walked over to one of the empty court rooms. He called out several names, including PBT, and invited us into court. The judge had finally arrived. There were two cases ahead of me. Both of them involved the judge asking a few questions, the participants giving a few answers, and the cases being set aside for rehearing at a later date.
Finally my case was called. Neither the defendant nor her lawyer had come so it was just me and the judge. He asked me what the nature of my complaint was. I told him that I had no idea why I was there – that our name had just appeared on the docket. He was puzzled. “But you are the plaintiff,” he said. I told him that originally we had been but the case had been settled three years before and we had done nothing more with it since then. I said that apparently today’s hearing had been instigated by the defendant. He checked his paperwork, he called me to the bench and checked my paperwork, and there was not any indication anywhere of why, exactly, this case was once again on the docket. So he did what all good judges in PNG do, he set the case aside for a rehearing at a later date.
I suppose that the day was not a complete waste. I got to visit with some interesting people, listen to some fascinating tales of woe, and see first-hand how the gears of justice turn in PNG. And almost three months later, the case is still not settled, and as far as I know we still have not been informed of the reason it reappeared on the docket in the first place.