I have been away a while. It was all in the quest of the ever elusive prefixes before one's own name. (Question is how sure we are that we own our names...when they were ascribed to us, we didn't have a choice in the matter. Of course now we may execute Deed Polls for Change of Name but still in the back of people's mind you will always remain as what your parents in their wisdom or lack of it -named you).
After the worst two weeks of an Advocate in training life...I discovered that there are six more months of such weeks. Each month having your verve for the profession diminishing and questions as to why you really picked (unless it again was thrust upon you by the aforementioned parentals) such a profession rising in number by the hour! Doctors spend 7 years in school but they save lives. Lawyers spend 5 and a half years in school and they are labeled liars. Some not with undue cause.
Parading myself at Milimani Commercial Courts, Kibera and occasionally 'Central' as it is known to those of the Profession and Nairobi Law Courts to the lay men. Trying my darnest to absorb through diffusion all that my Senior colleagues leave about in their wake of 'May it please the Court...' 'Your Honour' 'My Lord' morsels of etiquette and waiting-for-matter-to-be-called-out chit chat and learning to smile and greet the Court Clerk and the folks at the Registry and the Court Orderlies and smile at the Prosecutor who reminds you of that Shaka Zulu show that used to come at almost 10p.m on KBC and the sound of which would endure wonderful rolling green land images in your head.
Demand Letters and Plaints return with a dozen red lines all over them you'd think you never even went to Pre-Unit by the look of things. You will question your aptitude, your intelligence even when you have two degrees and two sets of transcripts that will attempt to comfort you otherwise. You will wonder if English for Lawyers is a subject you should have picked at High School instead of plain grammar. You will never believe a word anyone tells you again because the truth after all has two sides!
Then there is the 24hours that's worst of all waiting for the results to be confirmed by this time you do know that the 15 friends who've text you are really on to something. At this point you pray for Ps and banish the letter F or I to the core of the earth to burn until they may burn no more.
Yet there is still more waiting, waiting gazettement and waiting Admission and wondering why you had to be admitted in the year of the new Constitution because if its the old CJ who'll admit you to the bar, he'd probably be cynical and the new CJ would probably be in a hurry to get it all over with. Will there be all the pomp and wondrous festivities that you had dreamily imagined as being part of the Bar? Either way, your day will most probably end up with one and as a Learned Friend did say 'From there its all down hill.'