Song for this chapter:

Where's Love - Jackie Hill Perry ft John Givez

Yemisi breathed out her trepidation with a ton of baggage in her mind. That mere action had demanded gutsiness from her. Her worries became heavier each time she tried to pacify herself by believing she could handle it. So she exhaled her troubles as though it had been a mere inconvenient booger in her nostrils.
Her breathing had been a silent prayer, known only to God, the receiver of her unspoken request.

The courtroom had always been an avenue of comfort and a confidence booster for her. She loved to argue her cases and rattle the opposing counsel a little with thought-triggering questions. She had the avenue to be her authentic self. However, there were a few times when the courtroom felt like a battlefield. Those instances were when she had to defend her family. The grunt was often heavier, and today was one of those days she had to carry her cross.

Yemisi could almost see the tension that loomed over the courtroom. Perhaps, it was a perk of anxiety, but it looked like a billow of blue-gray clouds that gathered in the sky just before a torrential downpour of rain.

The courtroom shrunk into a narrow hallway. It was so constricted that there was barely a chance to breathe properly. In all her years of practice, David's case was the toughest for her. It wasn't because she was defending him as a villain, but because this evildoer was her younger brother. She had to make him seem innocent. She had to make his victims, and their families look a little stupid for wanting him to go to jail.

More importantly, she had to ensure that the court didn't see through her relationship with her client, lest misunderstandings and judgments spout up.

Oh, what a spot to be! What were the odds? What right had she to expect mercy from the law when her brother had done things that deserved retribution?

When she looked at the girls, Gertrude, Grace, and Kemi, with Celine and Gertrude's parents by her side, Yemisi shut her eyes firmly for a moment and clenched her teeth. She was shameless and unjust. It was true, after all, that no one had the right to point fingers at politicians and officers of the law who did evil things. People only have their worldview, and they often judge from that lens.

When she was younger, she envisioned herself as a just and upright lawyer who always did what was required of the law, even if it involved the death of a family member or a loved one. Now that she was in a spot that tested her resolve to be upright, was she doing what her younger self would be proud of? She wasn't sure.

David had afflicted these people, and they'd stepped into this room with high expectations for the attainment of justice, one that they deserved. Who was she to desire that her brother should end up in a mental hospital instead of prison?

Yemisi wondered what justice meant to David's victims, especially the girls. She did not know if the girls considered prison or a mental ward to be the proper and fair sentence for him. Later, she realized it was unrealistic to think the girls would go for the latter. One of them had died. The deceased girl had been a part of their lives as they collectively shared in the suffering. Of course, they would want the person who had made her die to suffer in the worst way possible. Jail was that place where such misery would be achievable.

Yemisi sighed and looked at her brother, who was sitting next to her as the defendant and as her client. David was eerily calm. He hadn't muttered a villainous word under his breath; neither had he looked at his victims and their families with contempt. She wondered what was going on in his head. Then she noticed that though he wasn't doing anything outrageous, there was nothing to suspect about him. The extreme unhappiness in his eyes quashed every chance to doubt his true motive.

He stared into thin air for several minutes with teary eyes. Later she saw his gaze settle on the girls as the tears landed on his cheeks. He quickly turned his face to the other side before they caught him looking at them. Yemisi saw him look at Celine for a brief moment too and she saw a feeling in his face while the gaze lasted.

His expression was of regret. In his pale forehead and movement of his eyebrows was a dampened sense of loss that ate at one's heart like a cancerous cell. It was the type that dawned on a person with a brutal blow. After receiving such a jab, one stagger and struggle to find their balance, an essence of their existence, but they find none.

The blow has destabilized them, but it has also awakened them to a harsh reality. It dawns on them that a vital part of them has been torn apart. As Yemisi visualized these things, she could imagine David feeling the exact thing. Then she wondered why he wasn't gasping for air. How could he realize that he'd lost a good friend and remain so calm?

Yemisi wondered what part of the entire event saddened David the most. Was it the girls, his family, or Celine?

There was no way she could tell, but she took consolation from how she'd seen him look at the girls. His dolorous countenance gave her the answer she needed. She was doing the right thing by pleading to have David admitted into a mental hospital. If by his facial expression, he still wished to have the girls in his custody, jail wouldn't be the best place for him. He would repeat his deeds once he was out of prison. Folake did not deserve to watch her son rot away like that.

Whatever she wanted out of this courtroom today would depend on how convincing her argument was. So without sparing any more time on draining thoughts, she faced her battle head-on and proceeded to tender her brother's case to the Chief Justice.

“My Lord,” Yemisi raised a transparent bag containing a bottle of capsules once the judge called on her to give her argument. “The defendant in this suit, who goes by the name David Williams, is a person who is of an unsound mind, and I will prove this claim to this honorable court.”

“This medicine right here is ziprasidone. It is used for the treatment of hallucinations. This drug was found in the cabinet of David's home, and he'd bought it upon the doctor's prescription during the earlier stages of his illness.

David was diagnosed with Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, also known as C-PTSD. An individual who suffers from this ailment indeed experiences emotional dysregulation, negative beliefs about themselves, and feelings of shame, guilt, and failure regarding their trauma. These symptoms were gleaned from Mr. Williams' conduct.

After the loss of his younger sister eleven years ago, which resulted from a mistake he made, Mr. David believed he was his sister's murderer and refused to believe that she was dead. He was so entrapped by guilt that he sacrificed his entire life to atone for his “sins.” He executed this act of redemption by abducting minors he believed to be the reincarnated versions of his sister. He gave himself to this delusion every time he saw a young girl who shared a good resemblance with his sister.

He saw these little ones as a second chance to right his wrongs because he'd been under the belief that he'd done something unforgivable. This presumption dealt with him so badly that he failed to accept forgiveness from his mother and ran away from her every time she tried to draw him close. The average human being would respond positively to a persistent show of affection from a loved one or a family member, wouldn't they? However, it was not the case with Mr. David.

The strongholds that his delusions had on him was also why he could not complete his dosage. He strongly believed that taking medicine to cure his hallucinations would mean he was accepting the truth of his sister's death and agreeing that there was no need to keep seeing her. Swallowing his pills regularly would signify his acceptance of his visions being unreal.

He wanted them to be real so he could continue to take care of the girls he'd kidnapped with the hopes that his deceased sister would forgive him. Mr. David believed he did not deserve to get rid of his illusions. The defendant had a warped sense of reality, among other things. He had a different ideology of atonement.

His overwhelming sense of guilt fueled his abnormal beliefs. The root of it all was his trauma as a teenager. The defendant no longer functions like the common person. He's incapable of responding to love like the average person. I pray this honorable court to view these grounds as proof of the defendant's mental instability and as an exception to his liability to be sentenced to prison according to Section 28 of the Criminal Code.”

Yemisi remained quiet for some minutes after laying her claims. She gave the judge room to write what she could from the grounds of her argument.

“Do you have any witness to call into the court?” The judge raised her head slightly and peered at Yemisi through her crescent-shaped glasses.

“Yes, Your Honor. Please permit me to call upon the psychiatrist who diagnosed the defendant with C-PTSD and prescribed the ziprasidone medicine.”

“Permission granted.”

“Mr. Hawthorne,” Yemisi turned towards the psychiatrist from the seats of the members of the public. “Please step forward.”

The doctor, who was in his forties, rose and walked towards the witness box. The sheriff took his oath. Then he settled on the chair, ready to be examined by the defendant's counsel.

He did a great job of buttressing Yemisi's point using medical terminologies. Then he explained that there was a significant part of David's brain that had been influenced by a twisted belief of life way before the occurrence of the incident.

“I remember what he told me when he came for consultation five years ago. He said he'd always wanted to be the one to bring his family out of poverty. He'd wanted to save them and often felt downcast whenever he realized his inability to be of great help.

Mr. David has always felt low self-esteem. This feeling can be associated with health issues like depression, anxiety, eating disorders, social phobia, attention deficit disorder, and substance abuse. In his case, depression and anxiety triggered his negative mindset. The day of the incident was not when Mr. David became mentally unstable. Instead, it was the trigger, the key that unlocked the tendencies of insanity already resident within him, although dormant.

On the afternoon of his sister's demise, Mr. David told me that he felt a high level of anxiety, one that was unlike the kind he'd felt before. He was desperate to save his sister.  He feared that his inability to rescue her would make him look more useless than he already was. Unfortunately, as we all know, his sister died eventually. That occurrence unleashed the underlying mental health issues he already had. My Lord, this is a medical report containing the diagnosis of Mr. David's C-PTSD.”

A court clerk stepped forward to collect the document from the doctor and gave it to the judge.

“Thank you, Mr. Hawthorne,” Yemisi said. “You may step down from the witness box.”

“My Lord,” Yemisi turned towards the judge on a final note. “I urge this honorable court to allow the defendant to be admitted into a psychiatric hospital until he's been so fully rehabilitated that it's obvious even to the common man.”

Yemisi settled down.

As expected for every suit, there was an opposing argument to every claim. Gertrude's parents had insisted on suing David for his crimes and ensuring that he rots behind bars for endangering the life of their daughter. Yemisi felt no resentment towards them. If she'd been in their shoes, she would have done the same and requested a huge amount of money from the court as the cost of damages.

What mattered most to her was for the judge to give a verdict that would be of the best help to David and the society. The prosecuting counsel rose and provided his grounds as to why David had to be sentenced to prison. After the presentation of arguments and pleas was finished, there was a recess, and the court meeting was adjourned for two hours.

During the break, Celine waited for a few minutes as she watched Yemisi mouth some words to the lawyer who was sitting next to her. She didn't want to talk to her when David was present to listen. She wasn't ready for those gloomy silences that felt like heavy wet blankets. She wasn't prepared to behold the eyes of a man that windowed trauma, darkness, and bad decisions. She did not want to feel worse than she had already felt about him.

Also, she wanted to protect her dear soul. Every time she spent pitying David, she felt a loss of self, as though a part of her was slowly drifting away into the realm of villainy and delusions.

So she waited. When she saw Yemisi rise with some documents in hand, she stood up and walked up to her. Together, they strolled towards a less rowdy corner of the courtroom.

“Ms. Celine,” The guilt in Yemisi's voice was inevitable. She could barely keep contact with Celine's eyes.

Yemisi dropped her files on the table and took a seat. Celine followed suit. Then Yemisi waited anxiously for what she was going to say.

“You know it's hard for me to be on David's side now, right?” Celine's cheeks were a dull shade of red, and her eyes were bleary and blurred with moisture. She was fatigued from the entire course of events. Had she even had time for herself and her daughter?

“I know, Ms. Celine, I know,” Yemisi took a deep breath as she reached for her hands and clasped them in hers.

“This is what I came to tell you. I know you were on your way to drop some files or whatever, but this was the only time I had to say what's on my mind,” Celine gave an apologetic look.

“You see, Gertrude's parents don't know who I am. Perhaps they have their hunches since I came to the court with Grace and Kemi, but I ensured not to make my presence known to them the day I drooped Gertrude at her parent's house.

I did that because I'd already agreed with your mother to let David be admitted to a psychiatric hospital. If Gertrude's parents knew that their benefactor had decided to be on their enemy's side, they would have felt betrayed. I feel bad for them, to be honest. They spent so much money to ensure that they institute an action against David. I ought to be on that side too, but I made a decision that would be effective for the greater good of everyone. I'm saying all these things to urge you to win this case. You have to win it,” Celine pressed her thumb on Yemisi's wrists as a way of pleading.

“I was well aware of the sacrifice you had to make as you made that decision. I appreciate you, Celine, and I mean it. I've done my best and argued as I ought. The decision is left to the judge. Let us pray for the best.”

“Thank you,” Celine nodded, rose, and walked away.

Yemisi remained still for some minutes as the tragedy of David's case enveloped her again. Each time he ran away during those years, She and Folake had tried to look for David. It was unbearable to see that after the long chase of a young, wounded boy, they reunited with that boy as an apprehended man in a courtroom. She wanted to shake his shoulders vigorously and ask him why he'd chosen this route, but she was going to save it for later.

After the time frame of two hours had elapsed, the judge stepped back into the courtroom. Everyone rose and bowed. Then they sat after the judge. The room became constricted once more as the Chief Justice began to read the preamble of her verdict.

“Section 28 of The Criminal Code states:

A person is not criminally responsible for an act or omission if, at the time of doing the act or making the omission, he is in such a state of mental disease or natural mental infirmity as to deprive him of the capacity to understand what he is doing, or of capacity to control his actions, or of capacity to know that he ought not to do the act or make the omission...”

Yemisi zoned out for the better part of the judge's reading.  It was usual for the judge to read words verbatim from a document for several minutes before they reached the part that everyone wanted to hear.

When the judge got to the part where he was to give his verdict, Yemisi dropped her phone and clenched her fists tightly on the table. Then she crossed her legs. Her heart began to hammer in her chest as her subconscious repeated prayers and desires to God. She prayed that the judgment would not serve as a big blow to her. The prosecuting counsel had argued quite well. The matter was out of her control now.

“This is my verdict. The defendant, Mr. David Williams, is proved to be mentally unstable and of unsound mind, as seen from the exhibit that Barrister Yemisi Roberts provided and the subsequent evidence from the psychiatric doctor. Thus, it is safe to say that the defendant was not in the right state of mind as he indulged in kidnapping the underage girls, Zipporah James, of blessed memory, Gertrude Okafor, Grace Effiong, and Kemi Adeoye, believing them to be his sister.

Thus, he shall be confined to a mental hospital until it's proven that he's in the right state of mind and shall then be sentenced to three years in prison as it was still criminal to have kidnapped and tortured people. For this judgment, Section 28 subsection 2 shall apply.”

Yemisi clasped her hands together and closed her eyes in relief and deep gratitude.

***

Yemisi and Folakemi escorted David to the mental hospital. When the accommodation and registration was settled, David was placed in a special ward, one reserved for patients with severe psychological issues.

The walls were painted afresh in gray, so the room reeked of the paint product. The ceiling fan made a squeaky noise as it rolled at the highest volume. It poked into the tension in the room and worsened it like a chatterbox who did not know when to be quiet. There were two sick beds, each with a side table containing lotions and toiletries. Yemisi and Folakemi sat on the empty sickbed and stared at the patient, David, pitifully.

David was looking back at them with heightened despair. He felt miserable for wasting many years of his life doing something so futile. It was dawning on him that he could have found love, gotten married, and had children. He probably would have had a son who looked like him; jet-black curly hair, fair skin, and soft hands. Now, he might not get any of that.

He had to heal first, which depended largely on how ready he was to accept the harsh truth. If he struggled with denial, he might spend five years or perhaps, ten. Then there was three years to spend in prison. Nobody wants to marry an ex-convict with a notorious history of mental illness and delusional tendencies. Were psychiatric issues truly curable?

In the end, he'd lost. He'd carried a burden that wasn't meant for him. He didn't put the poison in the jollof rice anyway. The true villain was supposed to be in his place right now — apprehended and locked in a mental hospital to face demons. How had he never considered blaming the person who'd caused this tragedy in the first place?

He'd allowed his constant self-blaming to become his Achilles Heel and had tripped. He'd lost everything. He'd gained nothing after all he'd done to atone for his sins. Even his mind was no longer his. Devils fought over it day and night, contending for supremacy.

He didn't know what to say to his beloved family. He'd thrown them away many years ago. People weren't hallways where one could easily waltz through, back and forth. Even as they were sitting close to him in the room, they felt galaxies away from him. Words were like heavy taxes to the commoner – costly and unaffordable.

Their sorrow was so tangible that David felt he could touch it if they didn't seem so far away from him.

Folake didn't have words to say. She'd expressed her grief on the day the girls were set free. So all she did was cry. If she opened her mouth to talk, she wasn't sure what she would say. Crying was a more convenient language for her at the moment.

Yemisi, on the other hand, had quite a lot to say. Her problem was with where to start and how to filter her words. The more she looked at him,  the more words were deposited in her mind waiting to be expressed. The noisy fan and her mother's loud, sobbing breaths were not helping matters. She wished they would shut up for a moment and let her decide.

“Would asking why you did those things be any help?” She spoke after choosing the most relevant question.

“You know, after you ran away, it felt like you were the one who'd died, not Sindara. Your absence inflicted more agony and distress on us than her absence. We knew that Sindara went to rest with the Lord, but we feared that you would go through the worst, do the worst things, and die a horrible death.

There was no need to burden yourself with how to save the family. If anyone should even be worried about that, it should have been me, the firstborn. We already accepted that Sindara was dead a long time ago, and we are doing okay now,” Yemisi sighed.

“I don't want to say too much for real because Celine already did that. But I want you to know that we all miss you so much. We miss that caring brother we used to have. Sindara's memorial service is coming soon. We'd like to have you around,” Yemisi shook her head after reviewing her last sentence. Then she rephrased it.

“You ought to come. You never visited her grave after she died. You should do so now to show that you've accepted her death and put an end to your beliefs.”

David stilled. Then he breathed out. When he released the air he was holding in, he realized that it was only a few days ago that he'd considered the possibility of visiting his sister's grave. For years, he'd fought to believe that she was not dead. He'd subconsciously thought that she was in a comatose state or somewhere on the borderline that demarcated life and death.

He'd desperately expected some form of forgiveness from her. It was impossible for the dead to forgive, so he needed an emblem of hope to keep that expectation from waning. Delusion became the fuel for that fire.

Now though, things were different. He wasn't doing anything to redeem his sins. He was not even a sinner to begin with. Thus, perhaps, it was indeed time to do the needful. He could only hope that the voices in his head would give him breathing space when he finally came face to face with his sister's tomb.