Dolphin House in Dublin is home to the Dublin District Family Court, the busiest family court in the State. Every year, thousands of people pass through its doors and among the most vulnerable of the courts' users are victims of domestic violence.
Since the law changed in 2014 to allow journalists to report on family law cases, I have attended hundreds of cases at Dolphin House and have seen wives and husbands, brothers and sisters, partners, parents and grandparents, all seeking protection from family members.
On one occasion, three pregnant women were among the applicants, one who had been raped by her husband and who feared he planned to kill her and their child with an axe.Her face was filled with terror as she told the judge how she grabbed her son and went out into the night to seek help, both in their pyjamas.
On the same day, another woman, who sought to extend a temporary barring order against her husband, described how he had pushed her down the stairs while drunk, poured oil over her and attempted to set her on fire. When his lighter would not work, he went looking for matches and she ran to a Garda station.
Both women passed through the hardworking and humane hands of staff and judiciary at Dolphin House, but they also had to endure the less-than-humane physical conditions there.
The red-bricked building is a former Victorian hotel, converted for use as a court in the 1970s and refurbished in 2008. Its entrance opens from the cobbled streets of Temple Bar. Inside, to the left, is the family court office, where people queue, sometimes with young children, to fill out the paperwork needed to progress their cases.
Straight ahead are steps up to the reception and low-ceilinged, claustrophobic waiting area. Gardaí are stationed behind the desk, along with Courts Service staff, who patiently advise the often bewildered litigants. In the corner, a television flickers. There are rows of seats, stained with use, that fill up quickly every morning. Some people have to stand and all strain to listen for their court case, called out over the public address system.
There are five courts in the four-storey building, as well as Courts Service, mediation and Legal Aid Board facilities. There is no seating outside individual courtrooms – the airless hallways look and feel like landings in a cheap and grubby hotel – so everyone must wait downstairs.
Imagine the shock and fear of having been abused. Imagine going to gardaí, calling a solicitor or support group for help, and then attending court. Imagine then, walking into that grim waiting area and coming face to face with the man or woman who perpetrated the abuse. Perhaps the person has been out of the family home for eight days, after gardaí helped execute a temporary barring order. The perpetrator may be angry and wants to speak to the victim. Or perhaps he’s remorseful and feels she would withdraw the case, if he could persuade her how sorry he is.
There is a very small number of consultation rooms, where solicitors can talk to clients in private, but these are far too few. Imagine trying to whisper the details of abuse into the ear of a solicitor with other litigants close by. It is akin to a medical consultation on a trolley in the busy corridor of an emergency department. There is no privacy or dignity in that.
There is also no way of knowing when a case will be called. Some people wait late into the afternoon to be heard, although judges try to prioritise domestic violence.
The toilet facilities are decrepit. In the ladies’, there are saucer-sized holes in the ceiling. There is one hand-drier, with a rusted metal bar where the on button used to be. Ventilation is poor and the cisterns don’t always fill, leading to other problems. Also there is sometimes damage done by users. But the clientele is no different from any court in the State and such conditions would not be tolerated in the shining Criminal Courts of Justice on Parkgate Street.
Of course, conditions are not just tolerated by those involved in domestic violence cases; a variety of applications are made at Dolphin House, including for guardianship, access, custody and maintenance. Childcare hearings, involving the Child and Family Agency, are also held there, although there are plans to move these to the Bridewell on Chancery Street in the autumn.
The Courts Service says the move will free up additional courtrooms at Dolphin House and help reduce long waiting lists, a positive development. In the longer term, the plan is for a purpose-built family court complex on an OPW site at Hammond Lane. There is no prospect of that opening before at least 2020.
For now, domestic violence victims, among the most vulnerable court users, are denied the privacy and dignity that could be afforded by better conditions at a time when they are most in need of it. However there is an opportunity for some short-term improvement.
Would it be too much to ask that a modest refurbishment of Dolphin House be undertaken and that some of the rooms, vacated by the move of childcare cases, would be modified to make consultation space and a waiting area for the sole use of those who have suffered domestic violence?
Una Mullally is on leave