‘What’s the verdict in my case,” a young porter asked me. He had arrived late and was not present in the courtroom when the judge read out the ruling. I told him that he had been sentenced to three months in jail and ordered to pay a fine equivalent to what he had stolen from his workplace, followed by deportation.
When I am covering my beat at Dubai Courts, I don’t usually interact with suspects for fear of getting involved in their lives. Many of them have heartbreaking stories to tell. In their moments of distress, they mistakenly see court reporters as their “saviours”. It’s very easy to get caught in their vortex of worries. So, I restrict my conversation or responses to a sentence or two so that the person doesn’t cling to me. This approach normally helps.
But there was something different about this porter. He stood there, puzzled and confused. The verdict seemed to have stunned him. He struggled to regain his composure. And when he finally did, the porter had more questions. But as usual, my response was terse, basically telling him that I didn’t have answers to his queries. And I guided him to the person in charge. I also told the porter that he himself is the best person to decide on his next course of action: To appeal his conviction or surrender and spend his time in prison.
A colleague also gave him a similar piece of advice. But the porter seemed dazed. He went and sat down on a bench although everybody had left the courtroom. He looked miserable and was on the verge of crying. He turned to me again and asked: “What do I do?”
Trust me, it’s a very awkward situation when you are with someone who’s shocked at being found guilty and has to turn himself in. I looked at the porter and saw that he carried a bulging bag on his shoulder. I assumed that he might have wanted to turn himself in and then backtracked at the last minute.
When he approached me again, I asked him the question that I had been avoiding: “Do you want to go to prison, because I see you carrying a bag full of clothes?” The porter didn’t respond. He seemed unable to decide. At that moment, a prison warden came out through the detention room door. I pointed at the warden and told the porter that he could surrender to the warden, who will escort him to prison.
But indecision continued to torment the porter. Tears ran down his cheeks. By now, I knew that I have got more involved than I should. I told the porter to go home and return the next morning to turn himself in.
That triggered a torrent of information. The porter lived further away from Jebel Ali. Having lost his job and with no other sources of income, he had no money for the trip to his room and back. He didn’t mind going to prison as long as he didn’t have to fork out money for the commute. He had come to the court with the intention of surrendering to the officials. That was when he developed cold feet.
If money was an issue, he had more problems coming. I reminded him that if he didn’t pay the Dh1,600 fine, he would have to remain in jail a day extra for every Dh100 of fine. That would add up to an additional 16 days in prison besides his three-month sentence.
That seemed to spur him into making a decision. He was penniless. The only way he could pay off the fine was by remaining in jail. Prison seemed the best solution.
By then, the prison warden had left. It was too late to turn himself in.
