Justice in the Congo, Part 2

The Problem of Resources

Compared to the hallway, the office of Kamina’s chief prosecutor seems well appointed and respectable.  It has a ceiling, and the walls are painted a lively shade of blue.  Four pictures of Congolese President Joseph Kabila adorn the wall, and a snapshot of Kabila sits on the desk.  

The prosecutor greets me with a warm handshake.  Dressed in slacks with a vest and tie, he is young and well-built, with a round face, glasses, and very dark skin.  I am given the chair of honor -- a high-backed, cushioned chair in front of the desk -- and my interpreter settles into one of the smaller plastic chairs to my right.  

During our conversation, I ask what frustrates the prosecutor about his job.   “There is,” he says, “the problem of resources.”  

The Palais is not connected to the Internet.  There isn’t a computer in building, nor is there an office phone.  (There are supposedly no working land lines -- or ATMs, for that matter -- in the entire Congo.)  “We don’t even have a Ham radio,” he says wistfully.  The prosecutor points to two cell phones on his desk and explains that he must conduct business on these, his own cell phones.  The government does not reimburse him for the minutes; he pays about 20 cents per minute during business hours for outgoing calls.  

Other than a diminutive official desk sitting unused in a corner, the prosecutor has purchased everything in the office -- including the blue paint I admired when I walked in.  

I reevaluate the office.  The desk looks to be a kitchen table covered by a plastic tablecloth in a food pattern:  berries and bananas peek out between piles of folders labeled “Urgent” and “Visas.”  The bookshelf behind the desk contains a random assortment of books.  “It is almost impossible to get books, and when we get them they are always out of date.”  

“At one time,” he says, “the government said it would provide us with a car.  We waited and waited.  Then they told us that the money for the car was gone.”  He laughed.  

“What can I do if someone is murdered 300 kilometers away?  It would take days to drive there, and petrol is too expensive.”  One of the prosecutor’s main functions, I discover, is to approve paperwork drafted by the police after justice has been administered -- if paperwork is ever filed at all.  

For the most part, he says, the people have learned to get on without the aid of the justice system.  Disputes are resolved privately, or by local police -- and that is usually the end of the matter.  

“How much is a prosecutor paid in the United States?” he asks.  I say that one might earn $50,000 -- perhaps much more.  

“I earn $200 per month,” he says.