Magistrate’s Court in West Street.
I tiptoed into the back row of Court 5A. The magistrate was reading the indictment in which a lady, Maru Kgama, aged twenty-seven, was accused of having shoplifted some Lil-Lets and perfume at one of the Clicks stores in the city centre. Next to the accused was her lawyer who was wearing a black gown and a bib on top of his white shirt. I listened with great curiosity and envy as Mr Charismatic Lawyer convinced the court with ease that it was in the interests of justice that his client did not remain in jail until the date of the trial.
When I left the court about an hour later, my mind was occupied with the depressing thought that I had let my chance to become an advocate slip away.
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