My First Case as a Lawyer: The Day Everything Changed

The Nervousness Before

My first client came shortly after I passed the OAB. A constitutional question, naturally—someone who needed legal representation on a matter involving fundamental rights.

I spent weeks preparing. I researched everything—jurisprudence, previous decisions, every similar case. I prepared arguments. I prepared responses to possible counter-arguments.

My Portuguese had improved greatly, but here was the reality: you can be fluent in everyday Portuguese, but courtroom Portuguese is different. It’s formal. It’s precise. It has terms you learn in school but only use in very specific contexts.

Nervous? I was a bundle of nerves.

The night before going to court, I put on my lawyer suit. It was new. Black. Blue tie. It felt like dressing for war—because, in some way, it was.

My wife saw me like that and laughed. “You’re going to be fine,” she told me. “You studied for this.”

But you’re never truly ready for your first time in court.

The Courthouse

The courthouse building in São Paulo is old. No air conditioning in many places. Stifling. Chaotic in an organized way—there are lawyers standing in every corner, in conversation with clients, reviewing documents at the last minute.

I walked in and felt the weight. This was a place where important things happened. Where people won and lost their cases. Where law was practical, not theoretical.

I found my client. He was nervous too. “You’re sure you know what you’re doing?” he asked with tense humor.

“Not completely,” I answered honestly. “But I know the law, and I know your case. We’re going to get through this.”

I was trembling.

Waiting

There were other people waiting. Dozens of them. All standing, holding folders. All waiting for their chance to walk into a room with a judge and present their case.

A Brazilian courthouse queue isn’t like a normal queue. You stand near other lawyers. You talk. Occasionally someone knows someone. “Hey João! How long’s it been!” is common to hear.

It’s also silent networking. You observe other lawyers. How they speak. How they behave. You learn by watching.

A veteran lawyer noticed it was my first case. How did he know? Maybe it was my accent. Maybe it was my obvious nervousness.

“First case?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered.

“Don’t overthink it. The judge already read everything. You’ll present your argument. It’ll probably last two minutes. You answer any questions, keep calm, and leave. The rest the law takes care of.”

It was wise advice from a stranger.

Inside the Courtroom

Finally, they called my number. I walked in. My client beside me. Another lawyer on the other side—representing the opposing party.

The judge was a woman, wearing glasses, who looked like she’d seen everything a thousand times.

I presented my case. My voice sounded strange to me—too formal, nervous, with an American accent echoing. But the words came out. The arguments came out. I spoke about constitutional law, about principles, about why my client was right.

Two minutes. Three minutes. Four minutes.

Then the judge asked something. A technical question. It wasn’t an aggressive question—it was a clarification question.

I answered. Was my Portuguese perfect in that moment? No. But it was clear. It was understandable.

And then, suddenly, it was over.

The Unexpected Result

The other lawyer then spoke. Tried to counter-argue.

But here’s the thing: the opposing party didn’t show up. Their client wasn’t in court.

When the opposing party fails to appear in court, you win by default. It’s automatic. All those months of preparation, all those carefully constructed arguments, all that anxiety—none of it mattered because the other side didn’t even show up.

The judge said something like, “Since the opposing party failed to appear, the court rules in favor of the plaintiff.”

I won my first case.

But it wasn’t how I expected.

The Lesson Learned

Walking out of the courthouse, my client embraced me. “Thank you! I knew you’d do it!”

But I was in a strange emotional state. I won, yes. But not because of my brilliant argumentation. Not because of my flawless Portuguese. I won because the other side didn’t appear.

That night, I spoke with my mentor Sergio. He laughed when he heard the result.

“Welcome to legal practice,” he told me. “You see? Everything you learned in class is theory. In real life, it’s about relationships, about who knows who, about showing up.”

And he was right.

In class, I learned theory. About arguments. About legal logic. About how to build a case.

But in real life, I discovered that law is very much about people. It’s about showing up. It’s about knowing the system. It’s about understanding that sometimes the judge doesn’t want to hear your brilliant argument—they want a clear, respectful, concise presentation.

It’s about understanding how judges really think—not based on how they think in law books, but on the decision-making patterns of that specific judge.

What It Taught Me

My first case wasn’t theatrical. It wasn’t like TV shows it. There was no drama. There was no moment where my arguments convinced a reluctant judge.

But it was perfect the way it was.

Because it taught me that the real practice of law is different from studying law. And that difference isn’t a flaw in the system—it’s the reality of how law works.

In the years that followed, I had much more complex cases. I had cases where I really needed my best constitutional arguments. I had cases where I spent hours researching jurisprudence and it made a difference.

But I never forgot that first case—when the other side didn’t show up, and I learned that sometimes winning is about showing up.

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Reflection

Today, I see young nervous lawyers in courtrooms, and I see myself on that first day. I see the nervousness. I see the care with pronunciation. I see the determination.

I want to tell them: you’re more ready than you think. School has done its part. The OAB proved you know the law.

Now it’s about experience. About learning in practice. About understanding that law is alive—it’s not a book. It’s people, it’s courts, it’s connections, it’s showing up.

If you’re starting your legal career in Brazil, or you’re navigating the judicial system as a client, I understand the path. ZS Advogados isn’t just about law—it’s about real-world practice. We know how it actually works. We’ll help you.

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Related Reading

• Studying for the OAB as a Foreigner
• Five Years in Law School
• What No Immigration Guide Tells You
• Why I Chose to Stay in Brazil

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This article is for informational purposes only and does not constitute legal advice. Each case has specific circumstances that should be analyzed by a qualified attorney.