While in the waiting room at our lawyer’s , Mr. Lepholisa (who didn’t have our corporate papers ready even though he had had 2 ½ months to work on what he said would only take 2 weeks), I received a call on my Lesotho cell phone from Inspector Motsoahae who wanted me to know that the perpetrators had been apprehended and had been picked up and put in handcuffs and taken back to their house to recover the intended weapon, the knife. She told us that they would be subject to a criminal trial and that they were to be taken to be remanded that very afternoon at 3:00pm. When I questioned her, she explained what ‘remanded’ meant and it sounded like our version of arraignment. She told me that we should be at the procedure and that we should come to the police station and be escorted to the courtroom where it would take place.

So I called to let Pastor David know at which time all of the men in the group had to make sure they had long sleeve shirts on to appear before the Magistrate (judge). I had on jeans and short sleeves, but oh well……I was a foreigner and it didn’t matter.

Inspector Motsoahae rode in the Beautiful Dream red Mitsubishi Pajero that Pastor David drove. She sat in the back seat with me while she and Pastor David and Lizzie talked quite a bit in Sotho. When we arrived at the court buildings, we went into a courtyard area where we were told to wait in a room with ‘guess who’ again?!! Yes, you guessed it, the defendants were right there in the same waiting room! Again more dirty looks, but a little less intense. I chose to stand outside in the hallway—I just didn’t feel comfortable sitting next to someone who hours earlier had tried to break into the room where I was with a knife drawn.

The defendants were called into an adjoining room. We silently watched them file past us. Then the defendants came out and we were ushered in to the same room. A woman was seated at a desk, whom I greeted with a handshake, smile and introduced myself. She mumbled some kind of short response. No one else greeted her and she didn’t great anyone else. No one explained anything about what this room was or what the procedure was that was about to happen. I assumed she was the magistrate that everyone had been talking about. She acknowledged that I had brought my own interpreter (Wilson) and then asked David Jika to tell what happened in the foiled attack and then said it would be my turn. After we both told the events of the morning and she asked a few questions, it seemed we were through. I asked her to please let me know her name and her title as I was not from this country and was unfamiliar with the laws of the land and the proceedings. She then explained that she was the prosecutor, which I then realized was representing the country of Lesotho and who was on ‘our side’ against the presumed criminals.

So a trial date and time was set for the following day at 9am at the same courtroom building! I was told by more than one of my Basotho friends that they believed the trial was scheduled so quickly so that I could participate and since I was leaving on Wednesday, they set the trial for Tuesday morning. I was also told that they believed I was getting special treatment because I was a white American.

Well—what a day!!!! Wasn’t sure why all this was happening to me, but I was sure God would turn for good what Satan meant for harm.