Dear Black Readers
Did you know that if you have the unfortunate experience of standing in a British court, in the UK, you are 'participating' in the official "Slave-Master to Slave" judicial system.
In the very last week of 2012, I found that I was in the Royal Courts of Justice, (The High Court), waiting to lodge legal papers to sue Lambeth Council (Brixton's responsible borough) and their leadership - the gist of the case racism!
There appeared to be a problem with some details, and I was 'referred' to "The Master". I had never heard of a "Master" before. I looked back at the member of court staff, perplexed. She reassured me that it 'was alright'. This Black woman, had a big grin on her face.
I was curious, but unsure of what to expect. I followed the directions through the corridors of the courts, and found myself in a small corridor. There was a small cue and everyone was speaking in whispers. There was a female bailiff, who was boasting, that she was there to get and Order signed so that she could repossess three houses. She was over-joyed, and appeared even more over-joyed, in the knowledge that she 'right' "Master" "was on". I asked this assortment of people, what to expect. Everyone seemed to be either struck dumb in awe, or over come with some kind of latent deference. Some of these people were trainee solicitors, some were solicitors, and there was even a barrister skulking around the corner.
When it was my turn, I entered a small room. I did not know what 'the procedures' or expectations were. I found myself sat in front of an extremely old white man, who wore a freemason's ring on his 'little pinky'. He feigned pleasantness, but I was not feeling it.
I described what I wanted, and showed him a document. The conversation lasted no more than 30 seconds. I was back out of the door. I wasn't sure what had just happened, but I wasn't impressed.
As I came out, an elderly court staff (slave) member, slid past. I was one of the last. Outside, was an African conman, called Alan Kamara-francis (of the Newham Legal Education Centre). He praised "Master---" heartily, and showed me a folder full of "qualifications". He told me that he was fighting 8 cases, and "Master ----", was "very very good". He mentioned that he had "strong contacts with Tony Blair" and that his wife "was the one in close contact with Cherie Blair". The country was Sierra Leone. I later discovered that this man was a conman who had conned hundreds of thousands of pounds from the British government in development and 'educational' grants and aid.
The next day in court, I felt I concerned about events of the previous day. I decided to go back to speak to this 'Master'. I went back along the same route along the court corridors and waited outside the same small room. As I stood waiting, another elderly white man, came from a small side door, and asked me politely if I wanted "to speak to Master ---". I replied "Yes, if that is possible".
He went into the room, without knocking on the door. A few seconds passed, and then the same man came out, and directed me into the room. I stood in front of the desk, and the old man, looked offended to see me.
This put me off. This man offended me. He asked me grumpily "what do you want?". I began to speak, and he interjected, and asked "do you have the paperwork?". Since, that was not the purpose of my planned ,intended brief conversation. In fact, I wanted to asked a question.
I asked if I could sit down. He replied angrily "no", staring at the chair, placed directly in front of him and his desk.
He made some remark about "not being the Master on", and I immediately clicked that I had infringed some kind of in-house, legal custom or rule. I apologised for any misunderstanding, and explained that I had "never" had any dealings with this system in my life.
At this, the elderly white man's demeanour changed, and he seemed surprised that my politeness, left his in the shade. He suddenly, became polite, when I told him that I had been sent to his office, in the first instance, by court staff. I was subtly telling him that I had not 'just popped in', to see a utterly strange white man for no reason.
He turned behind himself, and held a maroon leather book open, and stared into the pages. He then informed me that there was another "Master on duty...at ..." such and such a room. I left. I eventually spoke to a white male member of court staff, and asked him to explain what the "Master" thing was.
What he described to me, was a de facto "Slave-Master to slave" relationship with "The People". I was upset, by the whole thing. Very patronising and immature. I felt like there as also an element of public school boy-university fellow stink of fake 'respectability' about the whole thing.
It didn't help, when I later saw the full "Slave-Master to slave" thing in living action. I decided to go and speak to this second "Master". Outside this room, was a group of young solicitors and lawyers, clearly working on what appeared to be a big case. There was a young asian woman, who looked nervous, and a 'rasta' guy.
This "Masters" room was in a different part of the court. I asked the solicitors if they were in the 'cue', at first they were reluctant to speak, but I asked again, and they answered that they did not know how this "Master" worked.
I then asked the 'rasta' man. He told me that he had gone to a Catholic Convent school (a slight shock to me, since I thought, only girls went to convent schools). He explained to me that "this reminds me of waiting to go in to see the Headmaster...its just like that". I didn't know what he meant, since, the only people I knew who had to sit waiting 'outside the headmistresses office', (I went to an all-girls school), were the 'rude girls'.
Since I had never had that experience, I was at a loss as to what he meant empirically. He had a big grin on his face. he went in, then after about ten minutes, Mr rastaman came out. He was grinning -ish. He went off.
It was my turn. I was shocked at the sight of what met me. There, behind a large desk, was a fat, old white man, wearing glasses. He pointed to a space in front of his desk, and said, in a loud voice, "stand there!".
I did not know what was happening. I wondered if this was a de facto hearing. I discussed with him the Andrew Mitchell "Plegate" situation and how I felt that this illustrated the behaviour of the parliamentary-diplomatic police as pathological liars.
I couldn't help but gently cry, when it came to the part where I described, (in detail), how 6 armed SPG policemen, had circled me in parliament, and pointed their guns directly at my head, at point blank range.
He, prompted, and asked me what I wanted? and "when did this happen?" - he had pen in hand. I told, him, and he wrote the year, then threw his pen down in annoyance.
He said, " you're out of date...if you wanted to do something about it, you had 12 months...you're out of time". I apologised for the moment I had tears in my eyes. He replied, that he didn't mind, and that "you were extremely eloquent".
He appeared to believe and accept what I had to say.
We briefly discussed how the police had lied to such a degree, that it had affected, and damaged all parts of my life. I described police raids, and being kidnapped, falsely imprisoned, interrogated and tortured. He looked disturbed. He asked me "So what do you want me to do?".
He then cut me off, and turned to his computer screen. I left upset, but not surprised. I was slightly upset with myself, because, I couldn't help but well-up with tears, when I described and recalled how the 6 police thugs had pointed their guns at my head. The guns were so close, that if I had sneezed. They were all primed and there was one with a very thick neck, who took upon himself to 'guard' the revolving doors, just in case I returned into the foyer of that parliamentary building. As this one blocked my re-entrance into the building, the rest, were jumping up and down, and circled a wizzened old white man. They were all celebrating and grinning like cheshire cats.
This old man, who played as if he were a member of the public, later turned out to be a man called "Dr David James"of the 'Fixated Threat Assessment Centre. He looked completeIy mad, absolutely crazy. Eyes glistening, and, like mad Ceasar, he was in the middle of this group of large police gunmen, laughing and being patted on the back. I take it as read, that if I had made the slip up and sneezed, Dr "Death" David James, would have conveniently been on the spot to "confirm [my] death".
But back to "The Master" slave court-police system.
The very next day, there was a story in the papers, about Black people and crime. I can only think that there was a direct connection between my conversation with the the judge (Slave-Master) and me.
So, people, know this, that when you are stood in front of one of these judges in court, (whether as a defendant o claimant), you are stood on front of a modern day "Slave-Master" , live and direct.
Slavery, is not some kind of long-time-ago, 'historical' situation, they have Black people, under the hammer and the whip to this day (Saturday 5th January 2013). Now think of the stories were used to hear and read about the slave-master and their treatment of the slaves. Slavery is definitely still in effect.
Hence, the slave-master, has to be seen and judge, and jury, passing sentence, to prevent uprisings.
That day, in the last week of 2012, showed me what "Slave-Masters" look like. They are still alive and 'well', defending their slave system, whilst being aided and abetted, by weak Black men, and their white women, and their half-breed, black-hating, weak-blooded 'pickneys'.
This the new year, and all I can see, is the joy in the faces of the black slaves, as they recommended the RCJ's "Slave-Masters". The fight goes on, don't depend on the likes of idiots like Doreen Lawrence, or the Niggers in parliament, or the black boons in the civil service. In their world, it's 'every Black woman for herself!'
