/ 26 January 2001

The R8 pantyhose that destroyed lives

A medium-sized, flesh-coloured pair of pantyhose, valued at R7,99, is wreaking havoc on the lives of a Gauteng family. The litigious lingerie, pilfered by a Rosettenville teenager from a supermarket last year, is striking testimony to the capriciousness that characterises the country’s embattled lower courts.

Jenny Peirera* is an unusually withdrawn 17-year-old, even when describing her hobbies.
But her mother, Ana*, says her daughter used to be a typical, fun-loving teenager. Until July last year when the girl and an 18-year-old neighbour were arrested for shoplifting. The consequence court appearances of epic proportions. The girl, who wants to be a marine biologist, failed grade 10 last year the result, her mother says, of the heavy emotional toll taken by the trial on her studies.

Ed Harker, the girl’s godfather, has been offering emotional support. He says the series of events that followed the offence have been an unwarranted “witch-hunt”. Together with Peirera’s father, he rushed immediately to the store when he found out the girls had been detained.

The pair say they had every intention of paying, but received an urgent call on their cellphone, informing them that the older girl’s infant had suddenly taken seriously ill. They rushed out of the store, still holding the goods. Their protestations were not heeded. The next stop was the Booysens police station, where charges were laid.

Peirera, being a minor, was released into her parents’ custody, and bail was set at R500 for the other girl. Five court appearances later, the two girls were found guilty of theft. At each court appearance, Peirera had to take time off school and her parents off work. At least three times, the state’s witness a security guard from the store failed to show up.

The lawyer hired to defend the girls did not raise a single objection to further postponements. The sentencing date has also been postponed, ostensibly to allow for the submission of a report on the girl by a social worker or probation officer.

Ana Peirera says the family hardly goes out, for fear that the probation officer might show up when they are not home. Until then, says Peirera, she has to sit hopelessly by while her daughter, fearful of the prospect of a criminal record before turning 18, “cries like a baby”.

An official allegedly told the family it was incomprehensible what such a petty case was doing in the court in the first place. But some legal experts say the pendulum swings both ways. “The courts are fair,” says Peter Jordi of the Wits Law Clinic, adding that if people are properly represented and plead guilty from the outset if they are indeed guilty, such unnecessary delays can be avoided.

He said that although minors do get criminal records, if the court is aware of mitigating circumstances, a sentencing can be “held over” until the person reaches the age of majority. If they can then show that they are contrite, a sentence can be decreased and in some cases convictions overturned.

A legal counsellor, Macy Ndaba, adds that the one thing feared most by juvenile offenders, a criminal record, was a necessary deterrent. “Minors should be put off committing crimes just because they think they can get away with it,” she says. Most of South Africa’s so-called “petty crime” is dealt with in the country’s 434 magistrates’ courts. They have penal jurisdiction in all matters except murder, rape and treason. The maximum sentence the district courts may impose is three years and a fine not exceeding R60 000.

*Not her real name