Seventy

Jeff Atakora is speaking.

He has been giving his closing statement for about five minutes now, facing the jury as he speaks clearly and concisely, basing his final arguments on the overwhelming evidence against Chris Bawa.

The courtroom is hushed. The television cameras are rolling, alternating between the stony-faced jury, Judge Ossom Annor, Chris, Barbara and the spectators.

"…so, as you can see, Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, we've proven to you beyond reasonable doubt that Mr. Chris Bawa did brutally force himself on Miss Barbara Brooks against her consent, and not only raped her, but beat her up mercilessly as well. You have heard from our credible witnesses who have nothing to gain by lying, and how their stories were consistent with each other. It is a very important principle that people in our society be held accountable for their actions, and in this case Mr. Chris Bawa needs to be held totally accountable for his undesirable actions against Miss Barbara Brooks. We are a nation of laws, and everyone must follow those laws, and it is part of what makes our nation great. The notion of accountability has a great place in our criminal and justice system, and we have to face the consequences of our own actions. Maybe the Defendant had a bad day, and maybe he was stressed beyond comprehension. Maybe he was drunk, or even under the influence of drugs, but I would ask you, in conclusion, that you find him accountable for what he did to a fellow human being, a woman who could be your sister, your daughter or even yourself… and that is, guilty of rape. Thank you."

He feels weak, a bit dizzy, and has to hold on to the guardrail in front of the jury stand for a moment to get his bearings. This has been a most difficult case, because there is still that gnawing sensation in his guts that something just is not gelling. He turns, and he does not look at Chris.

Chris' eyes are half-shut as he sits silently.

The silence and the tension is thick.

Judge Ossom leans forward and looks at the jury. He speaks calmly.

"The Defense Counsel has intimated that he will make no closing statements. Mrs. Helen Boateng and your fellow jury members, it's now time. We go for a recess as we await your verdict."

A severe-looking woman sitting in the middle of the jury gets to her feet. She is Helen Boateng.

"Thank you, Your Honor. We are all of a mind that our decision shall not take more than a few minutes. So, if you'll indulge us, kindly hold on to the recess as we have a short discussion right here."

"Alright, Mrs. Boateng. You're excused."

There is absolute tension as the jury members get up and go through a door behind them. And then there is excited chatter everywhere.

Junior, sniveling, is sitting between Effe and Ira a couple of rows behind Chris.

Rupert and Wailer Vroom are sitting behind them.

"Please, can I go to Daddy now?

"No, no, not now, my dear. Just a little longer," Effe whispers as her heart thumps with fear.

The minutes drag slowly.

Soon the time will come, and Chris will be taken away, and that will be the end.

Effe finally turns her head and looks at Chris.

Her face is already tortured, but when she sees how torn he is, how painful his face is, how hurt he is, how absolutely crushed he is, and how his soul is on his face as he cries silently, she feels a sudden tearing pain in her heart, and she bows her head as she fights the urge to go to him and take him in her arms.

Sitting beside Atakora is Barbara Brooks. She reaches out and touches his hand gently.

"I know this is not easy for you, Mr. Atakora. But I thank you very much for doing this for me," she says sadly.

All sounds die down as the door opens and the jury members troop in.

They take their seats, and their eyes focus with hard intents on Chris Bawa.

Judge Ossom sighs and sits forward.

He raps sharply with his gavel, and the silence in the room is complete.

"Has the Jury reached a decision?" the judge asks somberly.

Mrs. Helen Boateng gets to her feet.

"Yes, we have," she says gravely.

"Have you written it down as I requested?"

"Yes, Your Honor, we have."

"And your verdict?"

Mrs. Helen Boateng unfolds the little paper in her hand, and her hard eyes focus on Chris Bawa for a moment.

"The jury finds Mr. Chris Bawa guilty on all counts, and requests the stiffest, maximum punishment for him. Other recommendations for monetary and other compensatory packages for Miss Barbara Brooks are contained in our brief."

There is rapturous applause and screams of joy in the courtroom.

"Thank you, members of the Jury. Can I please have your brief?"

The paper is handed to a Court Clerk who takes it to the Judge as people still continue to applaud. Judge Ossom bangs his gavel down repeatedly on the sound board until there is absolute silence.

He looks at the sheet of paper, and then he sets it down and looks down at Chris.

"Will the accused please rise?"

Ben Buabasah stands up, and after a while Chris stands up too.

The judge fixes him with hard eyes.

"Do you have anything to say, Mr. Chris Bawa, before I pass judgement?"

Chris is no longer crying. His cold eyes meet the Judge's, and he speaks slowly.

"Do your worst, Judge," Chris says calmly.

Even the Judge gasps.

It is unthinkable how he shows no remorse and is so rude even now. Everyone is shocked. Effe sees the proud angle of his head, his proud shoulders, a man who will never bow to another man, and she smiles sadly to herself.

That is her man.

"In all my career, I don't think I've met any man as cold and as evil as you, Mr. Chris Bawa," the judge says harshly. "I'm tempted to think that you're not quite human. You were given a presidential pardon, and instead of using your freedom to put your life back on track, you turn around like a pig and returns to the bog. I don't have words to describe you, and I'm tempted to think words are wasted on you. So be it. For this heinous crime against Miss Barbara Brooks, and having been found guilty by this court, I hereby sentence you to twenty-five years of hard labor at the Nsawam Prisons. Get this filthy man out of my sight!"

There is more applause and more screams as two policemen approach Chris.

One is Dan Curtis, and the other McBaiden. Dan smiles nastily as he puts a hand on the butt of his holstered gun, and McBaiden handcuffs Chris' hands behind his back.

In the audience Afful, Steve and Crankson are laughing.

Mrs. Lois and Diana are weeping.

Ira is weeping as Rupert holds her tightly.

Effe is cold. She can barely move, and though she fights hard, tears slowly well up in her eyes and spill down her cheeks.

Sergeant McBaiden has taken hold of Chris' arm and is leading him away. Chief Inspector Curtis is following with his hand still on the butt of his gun.

Judge Ossom has closed the file and is preparing to stand up.

"Mommy? Should I do it now?" Junior asks as tears drench his face.

Effe, heart beating, shifts her body for Junior to stand up.

"Now, Junior, my Prince, go!" Effe cries.

Suddenly, the shrill voice of a little boy startles the crowd, and the Judge looks up to see a little boy running down the walkway towards the front.

"DADDYYYYYY! DADDYYYYY! WAIT DADDYYYY!!" Junior screams.

All eyes turn to him.

Junior rounds the table and approaches Chris, who has now stopped and is looking at Junior with horror all over his face.

"Dear Lord, Champ! What're you doing here? You shouldn't be here!" he cries hoarsely.

Junior wraps his arms around his father's thighs.

"Don't leave me, Daddy! Please don't leave me!! Please, please!"

"Get the boy away from here! Please!" Chris says, agonized.

Curtis holds Junior's arm and tries to wrench him away roughly.

Without warning Chris spins and crashes a foot into Curtis, and he flies back and smashes to the floor heavily. Sergeant McBaiden, suddenly scared, steps back and pulls out his gun and aims it at Chris' head.

Ira and Effe have both come near them now, and both are weeping.

Dan gets to his feet grunting with pain, and he has drawn out his gun and approaching Chris with evil intents in his eyes. There is a shocked silence in the room, and the television cameras are capturing it all.

Judge Ossom shouts suddenly.

"Hey, hey! Put those guns away! Put them away immediately!"

The two policemen exchange looks, and then they look at the Judge, and they reluctantly holster their guns.

"Alright, Effe and her sister, kindly take your seats, now!! Are you responsible for this shit, Effe? I swear that if you are I'm going to lock you up too!"

Effe hesitates.

"Your Honor –" she begins.

"Sit down, Lawyer! You too, lady!" Judge Ossom barks angrily.

Effe nods, turns on rubbery feet, and goes back to her seat. Ira reaches out and touches Chris arm as her tears flow, and then she turns and goes back to her seat.

Junior moves forward again and wraps his arms around Chris' thighs again, and he is still crying.

"Hello, little man. Please look at me," the judge says kindly.

Junior looks up at the Judge.

"You're a very, very, very bad man!" he utters, his young heart broken. "You're taking my Daddy from me!"

Judge Ossom's face becomes sad immediately. He gets up and slowly walks out behind his dais and walks down to join them.

"I'm really sorry, young man. Please what's your name? I'm Ossom Annor."

"I'm Chris Bawa Junior."

Judge Ossom holds out his hand.

"Pleased to meet you, Junior."

Junior shakes his head violently, still weeping.

"I don't want to! I don't want to shake your hand! You're mean to my Daddy! You wicked bad old man!"