How addiction is driving Cork City’s crime problem

It is not clear whether the defendant’s revelations are a cold hard fact of life or colored by drug-induced recalls. However, her trauma is indisputable.

The violation of public order, which is the reason she is before the judge today, is becoming increasingly common in this court. The garda described her on the day in question as drunk and “unable to stand unaided”, “a danger to herself and others”.

She is just one of many drug users seen daily in the city center and whose presence is behind claims that the city’s streets are ‘grim’ or ‘no-go’, according to the more vocal critics.

The suspect in question was expected to report to gardaí for a planned arrest on a court warrant. However, the 25-year-old did not show up, explaining that she had plans to “buy a bag of heroin” that morning.

The woman’s pleas are barely coherent due to her relentless cries. The atmosphere in Courtroom One feels heavy – under the weight of her obvious hopelessness.

“I’m staying at the Simon,” the defendant sobs. “This can easily happen. I have psychological problems.”

Even after she is escorted out the door, her cries can still be heard. The judge requests that arrangements be made for her to receive the medical attention she needs. It’s enough to leave even the most cynical people in tears.

Those affected by petty crimes such as shoplifting and public order offenses understandably feel differently.

A downtown store owner quietly complains about the brutal shoplifting and physical abuse that has occurred in recent years, asking: “Where is the victim’s justice?” He tells me that one of his most frequent offenders appealed his sentence on the day of his birthday. Regardless of the outcome, there are no winners.

There is a flash of recognition on the judge’s face with almost every second suspect who enters Courtroom One.

If this were a soap opera, they would be recurring characters.

Occasionally, emotions run high, with loved ones insisting on telling their side of the story. As if part of an underground theater performance, a young woman challenges the judge with a litany of vitriolic grievances.

She charges towards the bank like a Russian tank.

“That didn’t happen at all, judge.” Her oral appeal is cut short by the judge, but as the crowd disperses for lunch, her tirade continues.

What happens outside the courtroom doors is almost as colorful. Friends and family of defendants on trial can prove to be a handful. Gardaí are unflappable in their attempts to keep the peace.

“I will burn your house down,” a man tells a member of An Garda Síochána. His menacing gait is cut short after he is denied access to the courtroom. The garda keeps a cool head.

Court resumes after lunch.

The violations of public order are becoming increasingly strange, as are the weapons of choice. Who would have thought that you could cause so much damage with a wheelchair?

The case involves a man responsible for thousands of euros in property damage at Mercy University Hospital.

Although he was not a patient at the facility, the defendant lives with a degenerative condition that leaves him unable to walk. His lawyer says his illness has become more serious and he is now no longer as mobile as he was the night the incident occurred.

He caused the criminal damage at a time when he was in hospital for so-called social purposes. The judge asks what the suspect “has to say for himself.” His lawyer intervenes.

“He doesn’t communicate very well right.”

“I am concerned about the nature of the criminal damage and that he has caused €1,000 worth of damage,” the judge said. “I’m concerned about that aspect because I don’t want him to get into any more trouble.”

Ironically, she admits she’s doing “pretty well” causing $1,000 worth of damage while in a wheelchair. That said, she sees little point in sending him to prison when he is currently in a safe environment. The hostel where he lives is good for him. However, if he behaves badly in the coming months, he may have to trade it in for a prison cell.

“I’m going to impose a punishment on him, but I’m going to suspend it for a while,” she announces. ‘I am giving him a four-month suspension, of which twelve months. He must behave well because this is a serious matter.

The suspect nods his head. His relief and that of his lawyer are palpable.

The next is a much younger man who is found guilty of a public order offence. He is sentenced to two months, albeit suspended for two years, after abusing gardaí in Cork City. When asked if he would write a letter of apology to gardaí, his response was non-binding.

“I would consider it,” he tells the judge. His response draws laughter from the audience.

Equally noncommittal is the prisoner who appears via video link and ponders whether to plead guilty or not.

“What do you think?” he asks, addressing his lawyer.

The judge advises the pair to take some time for a telephone consultation.

Our suspect has other ideas. When asked if he would plead guilty, he said: “Might as well do that as long as I’m here.”

His expression darkens as he considers the possibility of staying in Cork Prison over Christmas. The judge tells him that the month imposed will not increase the sentence he is already serving. He had been arrested for causing a nuisance to passers-by in MacCurtain Street, prompting the arresting garda to shout: ‘Fuck you, you stupid bitch’.

Then a 38-year-old man appears via video link. He has 53 previous convictions, mainly for theft. His partner is being treated for cancer at Cork University Hospital. He plans to take on the role of her full-time caregiver after he leaves prison. Only time will tell if he delivers on this noble promise.

Affairs pass by like a fast-moving carousel of addiction and destruction. But beneath the despair there is occasional rehabilitation.

Like the woman who developed an alcohol addiction while sleeping in her car. Thefts of alcohol, Lucozade, chocolates and groceries are among her alleged crimes. However, it is believed she now works full-time as a healthcare assistant.

As the day draws to a close, silence falls in the courtroom. You can’t help but root for the real cases.

A lawyer who ends the day talks about how people’s fates are at stake.

“Some will encounter predators and end up doing things out of fear or threats. Breaking free is something you do with the best intentions, but achieving this is often extremely difficult.”

Our conversation is brief as he heads home to prepare for tomorrow’s judgment day.