Sunday, March 28, 2010

The exception that proves the rule

We should all do our part to help people. As a practicing professional in my field, it is all the more important to do so. You hear this all the time, and nod your head in agreement; or sometimes the voice inside your head squeaks out some pathetic excuse that is so insignificant you don't even dare blurt it out.

I really marvel at the medical profession; the GP, the surgeon, the specialist, the nurse. All said and done about rising medical costs and fees, they provide a health service to society. And they have the medical knowledge to ultimately save lives. In contrast, an affidavit filled to the brim with voluminous documented exhibits won't do squat to improve the general well-being of a mouse. In fact, the more paper you use in the field you're in, the more trees that get cut down! The doctor; a symbol of hope and caregiving. Usually.

So what's it for us then? Pro Bono Publico a.k.a. for the public good. Whether this is line with the public interest is arguable, but the principle is the same: help someone. For some, it is sometimes impossible to appreciate the impact that you can make on someone's life, just by investing half an hour of your time.

I still remember hanging around the Legal Aid Centre one day, a few years ago. This was when this Private Investigator had sworn a sensational Statutory Declaration, and I, in fact, had just drafted one in the office for a client. Not as sensational as the revelations of the former though. Basically 2 lawyers were on record representing the one person, so it was definitely something that needed clearing up. Hence the need for a sworn statement ala Statutory Declaration. (Note: I have even seen promises being made in SDs. I don't think it has any force in law though. That lawyer should check the law on that)

So there I was, and I saw this small Chinese lady sitting outside patiently. From early in the morning till nearly 11am. She was by herself, quietly sitting by herself, holding an envelope. I would place her in her 50s, with her hair tied up in a pony-tail. She was staring into the wall opposite her in the narrow corridor, people passing her by, none asking her if she needed help. That made me angry.

I asked her what she was waiting for. She looked up at me, and immediately went into her story. This showed that she really was in need of some assistance. Waiting 2 hours for anything would be a drag. She had married an Indian soldier. He had disappeared nearly 15 years ago. They had a daughter together. His fellow soldier had turned up at her house one day and told her that he had died. That was it. But the funny thing was, she wasn't getting a pension. I just listened. So she moved on with her life, finding odd jobs to survive and sustain herself and her baby daughter.

The daughter was now looking to go to university. She could apply for her course, but the school required both parents to sign the application form. But the school would not accept just one parent's signature. (As if in a real-case scenario, if 1 parent refused the child's wish to tertiary education, this would indeed be a stumbling block for furthering one's studies. Ridiculous! )So the lady had no actual proof the husband had died. However, the daughter could get her mother to swear an SD affirming that her father had died. To make matters worse, that was the last day for the application form to be sent in. Hence the urgency of the situation.

Drafting an SD is not a herculean task, but the problem was that no lawyer was on duty at the time to help her do it. The Pupil serving her 14 days obligatory legal aid service couldn't be blamed for anything. So she was waiting indefinitely for a lawyer to come on by. I called my office, got them to fax a copy of the SD I had drafted just the day before, and got the Pupil to bang one out on the computer. It was a small room, so we were all sitting quite close together. The Pupil on my left, and the lady sitting on the other side of the desk. As I dictated the SD to the Pupil dutifully typing away, I paused occasionally to confirm events and dates. It was done in half an hour. The lady was quite patient with me.

After printing it out, I took her down to the Commissioner for Oaths and got it sworn. I sat by her side until it was done. As she was leaving she thanked me and asked me for my card. I just smiled and told her this was Legal Aid. If she had anything to follow up on, she could always go back to the Legal Aid Centre. I don't know why I said that.

So you see, your profession can be about your career path, dollars and cents, and whatever else that makes you take yourself seriously. But you should not forget that helping someone who really needs it is not only liberating for yours truly, but gives hope to those who seek help. How much could you charge that lady for drafting an SD? Would you really feel good about yourself taking her money? The point there too, was to render assistance in a timely fashion, based on the urgency of the situation. And mind you, I'm talking about the urgency of the situation to the person involved, not to you and whether you have meetings or what-not to attend to. I still wonder if her daughter got into university, and whether she is now working and helping to support her mother. Sometimes the skills you have really should be used to help your fellow man. When money isn't the issue, the help you give someone really does make a difference not just to that person, but to you as well.


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