Shemaine Bushnell Kyriakides
Once upon a time...well, 17 years ago, which in Cyprus is practically ''yesterday'' if you ignore the decades slipping by, a flour milling company decided to sue a newspaper and a couple of brave journalists. The claim? Defamation. Apparently, they were upset about articles published in February 2008 that reported something truly scandalous: mouse droppings in their flour production area. Shocking, I know.
Fast forward to today, and the Court of Appeal finally handed down its verdict. Seventeen years, 365 Sundays a year, countless coffees, and legal briefs thicker than a sack of flour later, the appeal was dismissed. The defense held, the newspapers were vindicated, and the plaintiffs were left probably wondering if they should have just… cleaned up the mice.
Ah, siga-siga, the Cypriot mantra of “slowly, slowly.” Usually, it’s the advice you hear when asking the town hall to process a permit or waiting for the bus. But this case gave it a whole new meaning. Could the people involved at the beginning (plaintiffs, defendants, judges, lawyers) still be around to witness the final judgment? Some probably are, others might have retired, some might even have retired twice, but at least we can be sure the mice have long since moved on.
And speaking of time, let’s pause and reflect on the cost. Legal fees, court appearances, endless paperwork, all for a claim originally seeking €87,083.28. The Court of Appeal noted that even if the flour company had won, they would likely have walked away with a whopping €200. Two hundred. That’s not a typo. A mere €200. Was it worth it? Well, if you enjoy long walks through the corridors of justice, endless paperwork, and the occasional dramatic courtroom moment, maybe. For everyone else, not so much.
In Cyprus, patience is a virtue, but sometimes it’s a cosmic joke. I’ve even seen a letter requesting permission to develop a piece of land in Nicosia receive a negative response… 30 years later. No, really. I know the people involved! It'd be truly laughable if it weren't so sad. Siga-siga indeed.
So, what have we learned? Mouse droppings may be small, but they can trigger epic sagas in Cypriot courts. Defamation suits might take longer than a small child takes to grow into an adult. And siga-siga isn’t just a saying, it’s practically a way of life, embedded deep into the culture of island bureaucracy and judicial endurance.
The moral? Next time you spot a mouse, maybe just sweep it under the rug… or start drafting a lawsuit you’re prepared to follow for the next two decades.
