Cipinang Detention Center, Jakarta. Without a word, the detainees of Cipinang detention center enter the large meeting room and take their places seated in rows on the floor. They have come to receive counseling on their legal rights. Much of the early processing of detainees awaiting trial occurs seated on the tiled floor of the center. They sit on the floor to have their heads shaved on entry, and spend most of their time seated on the floors of their cells. In this way, they are subtly distinguished from the staff or visitors, who are given seats. As the detainees sit, however, the lawyers and activists of LBH Masyarakat vacate their seats when the prisoners enter and join the detainees on the floor. All eyes are on Ajeng Larasati, an LBH Masarakat Assistant director and Justice Makers fellow, as she begins her lecture.

Once a month, LBH Masyarakat provides counseling to new detainees at Cipinang to inform them of their legal rights. Throughout the arrest and investigation process, detainees may be asked to pay bribes or will be discouraged from obtaining a lawyer, fearing that it will only waste time and money. LBH Masyarakat’s counseling focuses on dispelling these illusions. Likewise, detainees often don’t understand that the only statement the judges will consider are the ones made in court, allowing them to set the record straight if they were coerced into a false confession during the investigation.

After the initial training, LBH Masyarakat members make themselves available for one-on-one counseling with the detainees. At this point, more than half of the group leaves. Larasati explained, “For some of them, it’s because they already have a lawyer. But a lot of them have just decided to give up and go with whatever the prosecutor says.” Those the remain, though, take the opportunity to speak with a legal expert very seriously. For the first time during my stay in Indonesia, nobody pays any attention to the presence of foreigners; each small group of detainees is focused on the counselors.

From the perspective of the LBH Masyarakat staff, the information is nothing new. Most detainees ask the same questions or have the same problems. “Often, they don’t understand what they are charged with,” Larasati said. It is often the first time they’ve heard about the court process. “Most Indonesians don’t understand the law,” said Larasati, “Even with the rich and well educated, there’s no guarantee that they’ll know their rights. The common people don’t believe in the law anymore.” This view was echoed by a detainee who claimed the law didn’t matter as long as you’re able to pay bribes.

The pervasiveness of this belief, and the poor understanding of the law, has reflected poorly on lawyers. “People associate lawyers with organized crime,” explained Larasti. She said the public speaks about the law as if it were a kind of magic, and of a conflict between “Black lawyers” who take bribes and “White lawyers” who do not. “That’s why we never give or take bribes,” Larasati added.

Even with that reputation, these detainees trust Larasati and the other counselors enough to seek detailed advice. One detainee I interviewed, who asked not to be named, brings in his charge slip to have Larasati explain its meaning. Larasati, with her bible-like book of criminal statutes opened on the floor, patiently explains the charges against him. Talking to him afterward, the detainee said he “felt calmed” by his new knowledge, but was “still nervous and confused” because he had no way of knowing how long he would be held before his trial. Larasati told me that, if he wants, LBH Masyarakat may go on to represent him in court.

Though the knowledge and explanation Larasati provides certainly has an effect in itself, it’s real power is in application in court. “There is one case I remember, a man was charged with possession [of illegal drugs]. He was also HIV positive.” In Indonesia, non-violent drug addicts are entitled to serve their sentence in a rehabilitation facility if they can prove that they are seriously chemically addicts. Because of information campaigns by groups like LBH Masyarakat, “Most of the drug addictsknow they have the right to go to rehab,” Larasati said, “but they don’t know how to claim it.” Two weeks after counseling, the defendant’s family came to Larasati and asked for her help to get him into rehabilitation. Ultimately, Larasati able to get him into a year-long rehabilitation program, instead of a 20-year prison sentence. Out of more than 20,000 convicted drug users in Jakarta, only nine last year were assigned to a drug rehabilitation clinic. Two of those were LBH Masyarakat clients

It is these kinds of success stories that Larasati hopes to make more common by formally training Tamping, convicted prisoners who are serving out their sentences by working in the detention center. Though they are currently relegated to clerical duties or basic detainee management, Larasati believes that, if trained, they could make information about legal rights ubiquitous among detainees, and provide counseling more often than LBH Masyarakat’s monthly visits. Also, because they are ‘insiders’ who were once detainees themselves, the tamping may be able to reach detainees who don’t have enough faith in the law to reach out to lawyers.

Right now, the tamping’s only involvement is as time keeper for the counseling session. And time is up. The detainees, in small groups around LBH Masyarakat staff, thank their counselors and line up to return to their cells. LBH Masyarakat will return next month to meet a new group of incoming detainees. But the walls of the detention center to not constrain the movement of knowledge. Before lining up, some of the detainees ask Larasati for more pamphlets, to teach those that didn’t attend about how to claim their rights. In the face of a legal system that demands bribes, uses force and tells the detainees to not seek legal assistance, these, at least, have not given up.

Photos by Mar Costa

Monday nights at 9:30, CLEAR staff Dennis Okore and advocate Peter Onyango are on air hosting a legal affairs talk show on Radio Nam Lolwe 97.3 FM Kisumu.

Dennis, a communications intern, has been instrumental in developing the radio program. “Apart from the need, we saw the radio show as a great pasture for anchoring some of our activities. We had the idea since CLEAR started and pushed it further.”

The radio show began two months ago in partnership with Radio Nam Lolwe which is providing air time free of charge. When CLEAR approached other stations they were asked to pay 200,000 shillings a month, approximately 2000 USD, too high a price for the small non-profit. 

A community radio station, Radio Nam Lolwe has been highly supportive of CLEAR’s initiative recognizing the need for greater legal awareness. In Kenya, radio is an ideal medium of communication, free and accessible to people in all regions. Moreover, many in the local community do not speak English, and are therefore unable to access daily newspapers.  Radio Nam Lolwe broadcasts in Luo, the regional language, and is able to reach those who are often excluded from wider national debate. 

This Monday’s show discussed the constitutional review process currently underway in Kenya. Kenyans have been attempting to develop a new constitution for the past three decades, a process riddled with controversies and partisan interests.

In December 2008, Parliament began the process once again, establishing the legal framework needed to support consensus building. Once a draft constitution is prepared it will be put to referendum and a majority vote will determine whether it is accepted.

While the body responsible for preparing the draft is mandated to educate the public on the revised constitution before it is voted on, many Kenyans remain unaware of the proposed changes, the procedure, or how they can participate in the process.

CLEAR’s radio program addresses the need  for public education on the legal issues which affect Kenyans most. The talk show accepts phone calls at the end of each session, allowing Peter and Dennis to respond directly to listeners.

Tuesday morning was an early start for CLEAR advocate Peter Onyango who set out for Oyugis, a small town south of Kisumu to represent a nine year-old girl in a defilement case referred to CLEAR by World Vision.On the 29th of January the girl was out buying food. On the way she met two men returning from a hunting trip who offered her a rabbit. She refused. Then, one of the men forcefully took her into the bush where he sexually molested and defiled (raped) her, later confirmed by a doctor in hospital. The people of her village found the man and arrested him.

CLEAR staff take few cases outside the city. With a limited budget, travel costs outside Kisumu add up quickly, and the four hour trip to the rural courthouse by bus, matatu, and motor bike can be very tiring. Although Peter arrived to court just in time, the defense lawyer failed to appear due to illness and the hearing had to be adjourned yet again.

Peter found the family of he girl walking quickly away from the courthouse after the court broke session. They were understandably frustrated, but Peter reminded the family that criminal proceedings take time and encouraged them to keep coming back to complete their case. Discouraged by the complicated and lengthy trial procedure, some families give up on their cases before the court concludes proceedings. They never find justice, and some are even sued later for defamation of character.

Many factors prevent families from pursuing justice, such as the inability to afford an advocate and interference with witnesses. But even the cost of traveling to the courthouse can be a barrier. This family is only able to attend court because of assistance from World Vision who drive them to and from the hearings.

The father explains that he wants to see justice done so that his daughter’s case is a lesson to others. But justice in Kenya is expensive, and without the support of a CLEAR advocate their case may not have proceeded as far as it has. Peter explains that this family requires constant encouragement, support a state assigned prosecutor with tens of such cases would not be able to provide.

Overall, the family comments that they have seen CLEAR’s assistance in a great way, even inviting Peter to visit them in their village. The next hearing is scheduled for the 7th of July, at which time the mother will present evidence.

Dedicated CLEAR staff Dennis Okore and advocate Peter Onyango braved the afternoon heat last Friday as they waited for permission to enter Kodiaga prison, Kisumu where CLEAR is providing free legal aid to prisoners. CLEAR has been visiting Kodiaga prison each Friday for the past two years, however securing permission to enter the prison is a weekly ordeal.

Kodiaga is one of four maximum security prisons in Kenya, and guards at the prison are rotated many times throughout the day. Although CLEAR has secured clearance from senior prison officials, poor coordination means that these orders rarely reach the prison gates. As a result, CLEAR staff encounter a new guard each week and are interrogated each time they enter.

“It is so discouraging, the challenges we face. The change of guards, the system, the structure, it’s just cumbersome,” said Peter. “There are times when you might go and come back without ever seeing them. But we don’t give up, this is the work and if we don’t do it no one will.”

While the delays are frustrating, senior prison officials are welcoming of CLEAR’s activities and a room has been set aside for legal education. Peter had asked to meet with only 10 prisoners, but over 20 filed into the small room. CLEAR’s weekly visits are a rare opportunity for prisoners to speak with an advocate to receive legal counsel as well as assistance contacting friends and relatives.

“Being a laymen, I thank them. We have a lot of ignorance and we don’t know our rights. Through their advice we are able to bring our cases to trial,” commented a prisoner. ”The most important thing is the duration which our cases stay in court. In our constitution we are told that we have a right to an expedient trial. Some of us are here for 4 good years and that duration is too much.”

Remand prisoners may wait months before receiving their time in court, and with repeatedly adjourned hearings, years may pass before they are found innocent or guilty.

One prisoner describes how he was arrested with 27 other men in a police raid 3 months ago. He has committed no crime, but has been ‘bonded to keep peace,’ an open ended charge leveled against anyone authorities find troublesome. He can secure his release by paying a bond of 100,000 shillings, or by finding someone to stand surety on his behalf. With no immediate relations and owning nothing more than his clothes, he cannot afford to post bail and will likely remain in prison indefinitely. Peter has written a letter to the court magistrate asking for the bond price to be reduced and made affordable.

While CLEAR staff try to assist inmates to the best of their abilities - taking on three new cases after this visit alone - the number of cases are too great and resources too few. However, Peter and Dennis will continue visiting the prison in order to bring justice closer to those who have the least access to it.