Mark Wignall | In Jamaica, corruption rules

In 2004, Benji had a lot to be proud of. He was 52 and had spent the last 25 years building out a family business that had propelled him into a level of wealth that only few in this country could ever dream of attaining.

Unknown to him then, by the next year, he would be making the worst mistake of his life. In that reality he would also discover how corruption floats in Jamaica at the top, exists like an emulsion in the middle, and is accepted as first resort by those scraping at the bottom of the economic pile in this country.

Benji owned three houses. Two were moderate three-bedroom units, which were enhanced by adequate landscape, top-of-the-line design, and ideal locations. But the crème de la crème was the third property. Seven bedrooms, eight bathrooms, two storeys, four-car garage, swimming pool, tennis court, and, as an afterthought, a two-bedroom bungalow close to a corner of the property.

It was situated in one of the tourist meccas, and he would regularly lease the property to small tourist groups.

In 2005, Benji decided to make a new investment outside of his areas of competence but which he believed could provide him with significant returns. In seeking investment funds, he placed his prized mansion as collateral.

The investment was a bust almost from the moment he got involved. As it faltered, he pumped more cash into it. By 2010, the loan to the bank went sour. The manager told Benji he owed them US$1.5 million. At that time, Benji got an independent valuator approved by the bank to get to work.

The land alone was valued at US$840,000. The total was valued at US$2.8 million.

The long and the short of it that Benji tried to have the bank and him agree to one valuation and sale by public auction. That process would be a win-win for both parties, especially if the final sale price exceeded the loan balance.

But, it got worse. Benji went out on his own in trying to secure the services of an independent valuator. The general response went like this: “We get most of our work from banks. We want to keep the relationship healthy.”

In 2014, Benji’s house was sold at private treaty for US$750,000. And the bank has told him that he still owes them money and wants to take another of his houses.

BURY THE FILES AND CASE SOLVED

You would be at your wits’ end if you found yourself in this predicament and writing this.

Circa early 2019. Letter to the Supreme Court Registrar:

“It is with a sense of disconsolate apprehension that we write to seek your kind assistance to resolve a deeply painful and profoundly frustrating and costly matter which has been in the Supreme Court Of Jamaica for well over twenty (20) years.

“The referenced case is recorded as ‘Supreme Court Claim Nbr….of 1998 between 1st and 2nd claimants Mrs…and Defendants… Limited’.

“At the end of the trial, presided over by Justice…we have made repeated, but futile attempts, from our attorney-at-law in the case... to retrieve our files and drawings, but more specifically as an exigent, nascent issue, our fervent need to receive the ‘Final Judgement/Court Order’.

“Over the past four plus (4+) months, our Company Secretary…has visited and/or otherwise made several contacts with your office to address this matter, only to be told that the files could not be found!

“Yet again, we now have another prospect who is very anxious to participate in our development and bring the full matter to completion.”

Think of this. It is one thing in this country to wait oftentimes for in excess of a decade to have civil matters get stuck in the snail’s slime that is justice in this country. No one wants to lose at the end, but what route can one take when you are told that the file cannot be found. How are business people who may be thinking of investing expected to view this?

Access to justice is an integral part of the approach to investments. Having key documents disappear in the ‘justice system’ is the worst type of corruption there is.

In the same trek that the broken body takes to the hospital, for healing and wellness, when one goes to the courts of this land, one is seeking fair judgment and not for justice to provide us with pain by victimising us.

It is totally unacceptable for documents to disappear in this system. And the scary thing is, this is nothing new; it is a major concern among many people who have contacted me over the last two decades. Have the documents really become ghosts, or are they simply sleeping in a dark spot, away from the eyes of those making futile attempts at seeking justice.

HIT JOBS AND STRAY SHOTS

While interviewing the ‘energiser bunny’, Ed Bartlett, minister of tourism, on Cliff Hughes Online, Mr Bartlett told me that one of the reasons why the tourists are untouched by the criminality of the surrounding areas is that most of the murders taking place in the troubled areas are old angers, turf wars, and just in general, vendettas. Not his exact words but pretty much in line with what I have been told by police sources in the western end of the country.

The security minister himself has been briefed by his security technocrats on these types of killings in addition to hit jobs ordered by powerful criminal interests here and abroad. The terrifying factor attached to these hit jobs is the attempt by the killers to mark their modus operandi.

Bear with me. A killer is given a hit job and he gathers four or five gunmen with him. They are going after a man and his girlfriend. They have collected half the sum allocated for the hit. The main killer has also identified a relative of the man who ordered the hit. The location of the relative is known, just in case the remainder of the cash is not paid up after the hit.

The men approach the location of the man and his girlfriend. They shoot them dead and while fleeing the scene, shoot random others in an attempt to throw off the scent of bright investigators.

What this means for the general population is not necessarily that we are all potential targets, but we ought to be aware of the sort of company we consort with, either closely or in casual encounter.

In the early 2000s, I knew a gunman who was wanted by some other gunmen who were once his compatriots. I met him one day at a bar, and his eyes were darting all around him. I asked him how he was coping. He told me he had not slept for many days and it showed in his eyes.

He told me that he knew his days were numbered but “mi a go tek nuff bwoy wid mi.”

I bought him a Guinness, drank one or two, hurriedly paid the bill and left. Two days later, his cronies pumped his body full of bullets.

We cannot afford to be prisoners in our own country, especially when we know that we have not wronged any man or woman. We want to go out, play dominoes, dance, drink, talk, and go home in peace.

It is mathematically safer to be among those whom you have known for many years. It is not an ironclad guarantee that you will be safer, but it is more likely that you’ll be looking out for each other.

- Mark Wignall is a political- and public-affairs analyst. Email feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com and mawigsr@gmail.com