It is now official that Judy Wanjeri Thongori, senior counsel, is no more. She is dead. Although I enjoyed close friendship with Judy, I didn’t see this coming. I have spoken with some of Judy’s close friends that I know. None of them seems to have had a whiff of the coming of this news.
I am certain that had death sought humanity’s consent on whom to take, no one would have volunteered Judy. And yet, the Grim Reaper has snipped Judy from our midst.
Death is predictably scary. It is even scarier when it strikes so close. Death is perhaps one of those natural phenomena which, given a chance, human beings would petition God against. In the case of Judy, and since I write as a jurist, I certainly would have considered petitioning God under a certificate of urgency.
It is impossible to do justice in writing about Judy so soon after her demise, and within such limited space. Judy’s stature among fellow human beings is such that one requires longer time and bigger space to do justice to any writing about her life. And yet, the anxiety and pain that her departure has left is such that one must create a safety valve for the pain through some form of expression. As young people of our time have taught us, wacha niseme initoke.
I have many and varied lenses through which I knew Judy. I knew her as a social justice advocate in the trenches when she worked with FIDA Kenya. I also knew her when she waxed eloquent on Kiss 100’s talk show, Crossfire, with the late Mutula Kilonzo, Mr Mukhisa Kituyi, Mr Tony Gachoka and Mr Patrick Quackoo.
I knew Judy as a courtroom advocate, indefatigably arguing her client’s cases. I knew Judy as a trainer for fellow lawyers and judicial officers. I knew Judy as a proprietor of a law firm that had a near impeccable respect for order and organisational capacity. I remember one day when I was struggling with a desire to improve the performance of my own newly recruited administrative staff, I called Judy, who graciously agreed to induct my staff in office management at her own law firm for two weeks. When my said staff returned to my chambers, the results were instantaneous.
I got to know Judy’s immediately family, having been introduced to them by her. When her daughter was leaving the country to study Law overseas, Judy hosted me for dinner to give the daughter words of encouragement.
Having known Judy through the above lenses, I can authoritatively state that she was as humane as one can possibly get. One day, I was representing a litigant in an acrimonious child custody case. The parties were going for each other’s jugular. When we walked out of Justice Jeane Gacheche’s chambers, Judy called us aside and spoke to my client who was breathing fire. She calmed him down. We moved closer to settling the dispute. That was decades before the Judiciary embraced mediation. I was not surprised that Judy was among the first lawyers to be certified mediators when the Judiciary embraced mediation.
Judy practiced in all branches of the law. However, it is in the area of family law that she distinguished herself. She was a cut above the rest.
Since this case has no right of appeal, may Judy’s soul rest in eternal peace.
