Multimedia Journalist & Freelance Writer
A battle between right and wrong
“Don’t expect it to be the way it’s portrayed on television,” they said. The drama, the chaos, ‘he said’, ‘she said’ and ‘I object!’ as they all rise for the judge. The reality of a court room does not run simultaneously, with the fictional characters we emotionally invest our time in.
Making my way to take a seat in the public gallery, I tried to remember this. Taking a look around the court room, it’s not long before the faces start to leave their mark on your memory. Snatching a glance of those in the defendant’s box, almost hesitant, it’s hard to look at first. While there is every chance they could be innocent, you can’t escape that they are also the faces of potential criminals. That’s the moment when their looks of apprehension progressively seep into you and you long to know the story beneath the face.
The clerk hands a card to the witness, informing them to read the statement aloud to the court room. "The evidence I shall give shall be the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth." The statement is of course intended to bind you to the truth and therefore, something which should give an element of validity to the evidence you provide. But as we tumble into a tunnel of endless prying and questioning, you have to wonder the strength of this statement and whether any real trust is formed between the witness and prosecutor.
From this moment on, it became an inner battle between right and wrong. Is this the truth or a lie? Lost in a confusion of different parallels and scenarios, there’s nothing left to do but scrutinise my surroundings, on a hunt for some form of indication.
A large, middle-aged man fumbles to find the correct page in the congested binder, while everyone sits silently waiting. A heat rises in the room, as piercing eyes observe from afar. I see his nerves. I feel his nerves. The system is there to provide justice to society but one question cannot be avoided: can the system ever be wrong?
In a recent report from The Telegraph: ‘When innocent men go to jail: miscarriages of justice in Britain’, Olivia Goldhill investigates into this concerning idea: “Britain’s justice system is respected as a fair judge of criminal activity. But no system can be perfect and, as the history of miscarriages of justice shows, innocent people continue to spend time in prison.”
The prosecution continues to cross-examine the witness and a feeling of bewilderment begins to overcast me. Times. Dates. Locations. Even date of births are confirmed with the witness, leaving me to deliberate on what could possibly be left and where this could be leading. Our attention is drawn to a witness statement and once again, everyone turns to find the page in unison. It’s unfortunate that those in the public gallery don’t have access to this binder, as it seems to have caused a sudden amount of intrigue.
What was happening? Details were unravelling before our eyes. Piece by piece, the prosecutor knew exactly what he was doing. It wasn’t until he provided us all with an alternative scenario, that realisation hit and I felt as though I had been cheated. I wanted to hold faith but it was virtually impossible after the performance from the prosecution. Just one last look towards the witness leaves me feeling deflated, as he says, “I don’t recall.” My opinion had shifted and it seemed that this effect may be unanimous amongst fellow members in the gallery.
They were right, it’s not like the television because this is real life.