But none of us are able to really see the world we are living in—this world, occupying as it does the contradiction between its banality （the squat wall of the Detention Center, the bus running along its ordinary route） and its extremity （the cell and the man inside the cell）， is something that we see only briefly and then do not see again for a long time, if ever. It is surprisingly easy to forget what you have witnessed, the horrifying image or the voice speaking the unspeakable, in order to exist in the world we must and we do forget, we live in a state of I know but I do not know.
This is why I was able to see the Detention Center again by daylight and then, moments later, disembark the bus and enter the Court, greeting the security guards as I always did, exactly as if nothing had changed. It was easy to slip into the crowd of bodies moving through the security checkpoints, swiping their badges and passing through the metal detectors, easy to walk across the courtyard and into the building itself.
But then, as I reached the entrance to the building, I saw Amina standing by the door, she gestured to me and almost before I had reached her, as if she had only been waiting until I was within earshot, she said, They’re moving you to Chamber I. I looked at her in surprise. You’re going to be my replacement, when I go on leave. She took my arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. This is good, isn’t it? I asked her. She nodded, Yes, it’s a very good sign, and I squeezed her hand in return. Come, she said. And together we entered the building.
8.
Inside the elevator, Amina leaned against the wall and recovered her breath. She was now easily winded, the baby inside pushing hard against her lungs. She looked at me and then said her mother was due to arrive from Senegal soon, she would be going on leave in a few weeks. As we exited the elevator and made our way to the booth, she asked me if I was familiar with the case and I nodded, the details were well-known throughout the Court. The trial had been running for several months and was of great significance, it was the first time a former head of state had been brought to trial at the Court and proceedings had caused considerable furor in the international press.
And then of course there was the matter of the protesters who had for months been gathering at the Court on behalf of the accused, handing out those flyers and holding up signs. As we sat down, Amina told me that I’d be working in the booth with her for the week, in order to familiarize myself with the situation. She handed me a file. There shouldn’t be any issue of comprehension, she said, the language thus far has been perfectly straightforward. She nodded to the file, which now sat on the desk before me, and I opened it. According to the case summary, circumstances had developed very rapidly, during a relatively narrow time frame of four to five months, in the wake of a disputed election. The national electoral commission and outside observers called the election in favor of the accused’s opposition. The accused refused to cede power, despite the fact that there was also a constitutional limit of ten years for any presidency, a term the accused had already served. He then indulged in some creative accounting, nullifying the votes in districts where his opponent polled strongly, ordered the army to close the borders, and barred all foreign media.
The accused then—I began to scan the file more hurriedly, one eye on the officials who were filing into the courtroom below, the session would begin soon—formed an army of mercenaries and began a process of ethnic cleansing, leading to death squads and mass graves. The UN sent peacekeeping troops, the African Union demanded that the accused step down from power, he was entirely unrepentant. His opponent retaliated, civil war ensued. Eventually, in the wake of French and United Nations air strikes, the opposition forces and the UN captured the accused and placed him under house arrest. This was approximately five months after the disputed election. If peacekeeping troops had not been present, it was assumed that the accused would have been executed, but the UN argued with some force that he should be tried in an international court, and now here he was, and had been for some years awaiting trial.
I closed the dossier and placed it to one side. Beneath it was a large photograph of the former president. He was looking into the distance, one arm raised and his mouth open as if he were delivering oratory. There were people visible behind him, their shapes blurred so that they were accumulations of color rather than distinct figures, he might have been speaking at a rally in the final days before the disputed election. He was wearing an expensive suit and tie and even in the photograph his body was rigid with energy and tension. In the background, I could make out large placards and banners.