Access to justice should be a right, not a privilege reserved for those with influence or resources. Yet, for many victims of harassment, privacy violations, systemic abuse, discrimination and more that right is quietly eroded. I am now living through that erosion firsthand. It’s a clear due process violation.
Because of the seriousness of my case — involving multiple powerful defendants across various sectors — obtaining legal representation has become nearly impossible. Law firms that initially showed interest later withdrew without clear explanation, some after unusual delays or abrupt changes of tone. Others never replied at all. The pattern suggests not coincidence but pressure: subtle or overt signals that representing me would be “too risky” or “too political.” The result is that I have been forced to prepare every aspect of this complex litigation myself.
Each day and night, I work alone — drafting court documents, researching law, gathering evidence, organising exhibits, and defending myself against ongoing harassment. There is no team, no paralegal, no protection. I work in isolation, while those responsible for my suffering have access to institutional power, legal departments, and endless resources. This imbalance is not only emotionally exhausting; it is an affront to the very idea of a fair trial.
The consequences reach beyond the legal process. Since the harassment and surveillance began, almost every job I have applied for has been rejected. Employers either never respond or withdraw at the final stage without reason or with vague reason. This repeated pattern strongly suggests blacklisting or outside influence designed to isolate me economically — to ensure I remain vulnerable and without the financial means to pursue justice.
This is not simply about one individual being denied a lawyer. It is about a structural problem — where those with power can quietly suffocate a person’s access to justice by manipulating the professional networks, institutions, and gatekeepers meant to protect them.
Justice should not depend on who you are fighting against, or how powerful they are. But the reality I face shows otherwise. I continue to fight, document, and prepare my case — not because I have the resources to do so, but because I have no other choice.
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