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The Magistrate’s Court situated at
the corner of Fox and Ntemi Piliso (previously West) Streets,
Marshalltown, Johannesburg is clearly in the spotlight with the trial
of suspected terrorist, Henry Emomotimi Okah.

Officials are not familiar with
the name Okah, but immediately point you in the direction if any
sentence you utter has the words “Nigerian”, “bomb” or “terrorist”.

Courtroom 12, where the action is, seats about 30 people.

Occasionally, other cases are
heard in between Mr. Okah’s, mainly while the lawyers ask for time to
read up on documents or consult with each other. All courts have a
basement cell. It is from here the accused are called up before Mr
Louw. Their appearance is preceded by the sound of keys in a lock, and
chains jangling from iron doors and human limbs. Last Friday, there was
a drunken lawyer in court; another case involved a harmless-looking old
man who allegedly threatened his wife with a firearm.

Humdrum stuff compared to the main
business of the day. The minute Mr. Okah’s name is announced, there is
tension in the air as proceedings resume.

It is apparent that ordinary
Nigerians living in South Africa have not shown an interest in this
case. Every day in court has seen just about 10 Nigerians, including
people who are apparently Mr. Okah’s relatives and seat very close to
his wife, Azuka and shield her from the newshounds.

Chris Iroala, the Consular officer
in charge of the Nigerian community in South Africa has been in court
regularly, as well as a man identified as Omeokachie, said to be from
the Nigerian High Commission, Pretoria. Only journalists from NEXT and
the News Agency of Nigeria (NAN) represent Nigerian media. The rest are
from South Africa’s SABC and ETV, Associated Press, Al-Jazeera, Agence
France Presse (AFP), Reuters and France’s Le Monde.

Outside, camera crews regularly
wait for hours to have moving and still images of Mr. Okah arriving in
court; only Reuters seems to have succeeded with quality images so far.

But Mr. Okah was casual about the
entries when he testified. He said with a shrug; “I have hundreds of
books on guerilla warfare…video tapes. I don’t think there is
anything wrong with that… it is my passion. Some of these things
contained in these diaries are notes on those books.”

Okah also said an invoice being
used as an exhibit by the prosecution was sent by Niger Delta minister,
Godsway Orubebe. He said the Nigerian government sent Orubebe to him
with a quote for guns, asking him to help them get a second quote from
the South African government and that he told them he wasn’t a
contractor.

“I told them I would not help them to buy guns to kill my people,” he said.

On his alleged involvement in
bombings, he said: “I am a sympathiser of the cause. That for me is
where it ends.” Prior to this, Mr, Okah maintained in an affidavit
(read by his lawyer Rudi Krause) that the military uniforms the
prosecution maintained it seized from his home were “nothing one cannot
buy at any flea market in Johannesburg…this is nothing but unlawful
conduct on the part of the SA authorities.” Mr. Okah’s affidavit also
states that his son’s phone was “stolen by the South African Police
Services.” This was denied by the Prosecution.

He also told the court he felt the
Nigerian government was after his life and that he ran away when South
Africa police raided his home. Mr. Okah added that he only returned
when his wife, Azuka called him and confirmed that the people at his
home in Mendeor, south of Johannesburg were officers of the South
African Police Services (SAPS).

“I fled my home,” he said. “The
way they came into my home, I believed them to be assassins sent by the
Nigerian government.” Some of the reasons listed by prosecution lawyers
for opposing the bail application brought by Mr. Okah, include that:
Okah and Jomo Gbomo are one and the same person; ‘the applicant can
easily exit this country without a trace;’ ‘the applicant will attempt
to intimidate and eliminate witnesses;’ and ‘the applicant faces some
of the most shocking charges known to man. ..if released on bail and
murdered, or escapes justice, the international community will
criticise the justice system of the Republic [of South Africa].’
Prosecution maintained also that Mr. Okah’s lifestyle and numerous
properties are being investigated by police to see if it relates to
money laundering, and suggested that Mr. Okah withheld the true status
of his wealth when he gave an interview to Al-jazeera claiming he had
no money. Okah’s reply was that he did not use a cell phone as widely
speculated, and that he had no idea that he was supposed to seek
approval before granting interviews. “I did so with the knowledge of
the prison. I asked permission to use the payphones, and I did. I used
a Telkom payphone.”

Mr Abrahams said the laptops,
phones and cards seized from Mr. Okah’s house are still being analysed
by the South African Police forensic unit. Awaiting trial inmates in
South Africa are allowed to have laptops and more in prisons.

When called up to cross-examine
Mr. Okah, prosecution lawyer Shaun Abrahams said the state was not
ready to do so, as it “had no idea” that Mr. Okah was going to testify,
and was not prepared. “It would be clutching at straws,” Mr Abrahams
said, asking that the bail application be shifted to Monday.

Though Judge Hein Louw agreed that
the prosecution had not been briefed, he said with apparent
exasperation; “we can no longer carry this as a preferential matter
much longer.”

‘Suspected terrorist’ with a heart

Mrs. Okah is slim-built, and
always to be found on the wooden rows facing her husband. She comes
with a bag of food and bottled water, every day. Sometimes her hair is
neatly tied, at other times it looks like she has other things on her
mind to worry about. She is always polite to journalists, often
consults with her husband’s lawyer, and seems to be a fan of Nigeria’s
Ankara fabric.

But her husband has fears for his wife and has expressed them in his affidavit; “My wife is in danger,” he says.

His worry is apparent. The first
thing he does as soon as he is called up to the court room is look to
his left and search the room for his wife. On different days, and at
different times, he smiles, winks or just looks at her. On the day the
diaries were being read, he looked so intently at her that he stumbled
on the first step leading to the holding cells.

On Friday 15th October, just as he was led to the holding cells
below, Mr. Okah turned to his wife and lifted a finger in admonition;
“you haven’t been eating,” he said, his lips forming a quick kiss. She
smiled, briefly, and he disappeared. He is expected to return to the
court tomorrow, 18 October.