The Potholes to Justice

Tales from litigation by lawyer Fredericka

I use potholes both literally and figuratively in this piece.

The first time I drove to Kenyasi for court, I cried. The journey from Sunyani through Drobo to Sampa has also been a bittersweet one, not because of the scenery, but because of what the road demands of you. You are constantly choosing which pothole to fall into and which one to avoid. That mental calculation alone drains you long before you even step into the courtroom.

There is the dust you inhale until your chest feels heavy. You can also count the number of mechanics and vulcanizers by the roadside, and you silently pray your car does not give up on you on the road. By the time you arrive, your body aches, your mind is tired, and your case has not even begun.

Some lawyers make a living practising in these less developed areas, places often jokingly called “the chancery” because the court of chancery traveled from town to town. Many lawyers refuse to go there and it is not without reason. Beyond the terrible roads that destroy your car and your spine, there is the real risk of armed robbery, of getting stranded in the middle of nowhere, of falling ill from dust and exhaustion.

Then you arrive and meet another obstacle: the system itself.

In some of these towns, court staff quietly decide which lawyer gets which client. If a client is referred to you and you do not “appreciate” the referral, you may lose the client or never get another one again. Bailiffs (everywhere) often will not serve court processes unless you “facilitate service”. Facilitation simply means paying extra, beyond the official fees, because they are not adequately resourced to travel. They say they are underpaid. And honestly, I wish more bailiffs would speak openly about this.

The danger in all this is subtle but serious. Many clients do not receive proper representation. Competition is low. Procedures are sometimes ignored, especially where judges are not experienced and strict. Some half-prepared lawyers dominate these courts, relying on outdated knowledge of the law that has not been refreshed in years.

For clients, this means a harsh reality: if you want a competent, well-prepared lawyer to travel these roads and risk life and property, you often have to pay more. Yet the people in these areas are usually the least able to afford it.

Judges posted to these courts face their own struggles. The cases are often limited- land disputes, theft, trespass, the occasional murder and the like- leading to the belief that posting an experienced judge there is a waste of talent. In these courts, litigants sometimes speak to judges with shocking disrespect. Contempt proceedings are initiated, only for traditional authorities to step in and soften the consequences. I often wonder whether judges posted to such areas feel unsafe. The level of hostility they sometimes face can be alarming. Some even whisper that these postings are a form of punishment, though officially, that remains only a rumour.

I take on a few pro bono cases in these areas. But by the end of the day, the body pains, the car repairs, and the endless hours on the road make it difficult to justify continuing. The cost -physical, emotional, and financial- is high.

If I had my way, online litigation would be prioritised for such regions. Bad roads should not mean bad access to justice. People should not pay more simply because no lawyer wants to practise in their town. And we cannot blame lawyers who choose not to risk their lives and vehicles for fees that cannot even cover fuel.

Come to think of it, how many active Legal Aid offices truly function in these regions? How many clients end up paying for services that are meant to be free?

When I was posted to a Legal Aid office in the north, the office was understaffed. Some lawyers rarely showed up. Now, if lawyers who are paid to offer free legal services struggle to stay, how much more a private legal practitioner?

The truth is simple and uncomfortable: it costs more to practise law in these areas. And yet, the people there earn the least. They deserve justice that does not require broken cars, broken bodies, and broken systems.

Justice should not depend on how many potholes you can survive. These are the parts of litigation rarely spoken about- the journeys before the courtroom, the systems before the law, and the quiet costs paid long before justice is ever heard. This is one of the many tales from litigation. Behind every case file is a road traveled, a body exhausted, and a system that asks too much of those with the least. Until access to justice no longer depends on broken roads, broken systems, and personal sacrifice, these will remain our untold tales from litigation.

– Lawyer Fredericka