THE LEARNED SQUIB
THE JUDGE’S SACRED BURDEN
“Omi n be larin obinrin
omi wa ni raja
omi wa no rogo
omi tun wa lagbedemeji ara won
omi, omi,
omi ti baba mu
ti o gbodo f’omo e mu
aani; Sola mama de be
hun o bu tire fun o
omi”
Ligali Mukaiba
(A popular Nigerian Apala music exponent)
“women have brooks
in their loft, the brooks
in their crook, the brooks
also in their midsections, the brooks
the brooks (so sweet and sacred)
that the father cannot share with his son
rather, he forbids, saying:
my son, don’t even get near there
I’ll fetch yours for you.”
Most literate Nigerians have heard or read about the very serious allegations levelled against former President Olusegun Obasanjo. Horrible allegations - that he not without his will, bedded, a woman outside his command, when the woman in question happens to be the lawfully wedded wife of his (Obasanjo) son, Gbenga. The ‘alleger’ is none other than Gbenga who further declared that prior to his wife’s despoilation by his father, the woman’s very father a certain Otunba, had ploughed her severally in the past. To this shocking disclosure, Chief, the General Olusegun Obasanjo has kept quiet, very quiet. In other turbulent situations and challenges, the old soldier had been known to declare quite imperially - “I dey Kampe.”
In short for the General, in this case, mum has been the word. Not so for the vast majority of the Nigerian public. Of course, you can trust our people to talk, especially when it is about a sordid, tasty and juicy sex-related scandal pertaining to a not so much beloved public figure. Believe me, everybody is talking about this presidential incest matter. Everybody is casting stones at the Obasanjos. As far as most people are concerned, Gbenga’s allegations are nothing but the horrible truth. After all, they say, no child will dare raise such terrible allegations against his father, if they be untrue. Secondly, the very fact that the allegations are contained in a sworn affidavit confirms its very veracity to people. The voice of the people, it is said, is the voice of God. As far as I can see, the voice of the people on this matter is that:
(a) Ex-President Olusegun Obasanjo has shamelessly, recklessly, stupidly, shockingly slept with his son’s wife. But is this voice, the true position?
Is it really true that the “father of Modern Nigeria” has ever gone beyond “konko below” with son’s wife?
Interestingly, very interestingly, the public is not asking Gbenga to substantiate his howitzers against his father, and ahem, his father-in-law. Nobody is asking Gbenga pertinent questions such as
(a) When did your rival and father have sex with your wife?
(b) Were you ever there when the dirty tango was on?
(c) How many times did Segun and Moji tango?
(d) Were you told by somebody else about the affair between your father and your ‘field?’
(e) If yes, who is that person(s)?
(f) Before now, have you ever confronted your father or and your field about what you saw, heard or told about their unholy act?
(g) Have you only just known about the liaison between your father and your field or why have you not spoken up until now?
Yet everybody, well almost everybody has reached the firm, even irrevocable conclusion that Baba Iyabo has drunk from the same brook, (may be even more than) with his son.
This clearly is a case of trial before trial, worse, conviction before trial. Not only is there no fair hearing, there is no hearing at all for the father of Modern Nigeria in this case, and in fact nobody is interested in hearing Olusegun Obasanjo’s side. He is not only guilty as charged, but guilty ab-initio.
Yet, the case is before a court of law. The judge who will entertain the matter is not a deaf-mute. He is not a ghost or a “spirit.” He is not averse to watching the television or listening to the newspapers. In many regards, he is like any other Nigerian. Yet he is a judge. Sworn to do justice. Justice according to facts. Justice without fear or favour. Justice without partiality.
In the circumstances of this “you-chop-my-special-meat” hoopla raised by Gbenga Obasanjo against his father, Olusegun Obasanjo and for which the father has already suffered crucifixion in the market of public opinion, how many judges can handle this case, without bias for and against Obasanjo senior?
Few I suppose. Only few souls can bear to toe the narrow rocky, thorny path of impartial adjudication when the easy, smooth and wide way of Barrabasism exists.
This is in my humble opinion is the affliction of some judges handling the so called EFCC cases. When an accused is brought before them, especially the so called “big crooks” with their reputation of being fraudsters going quite ahead of them, the judges simply give their consent to the conviction passed on the unfortunate fellows in the court of public opinion and then impose befitting sentences on them. Let our judges search their consciences….
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Thursday, January 24, 2008
'The Secret Impediment' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 8 No 14 21st January 2008
THE LEARNED SQUIB
About two years ago, the Tigers of Ikeja (NBA, Ikeja) launched the foundation of a new, bigger and better secretariat. The Chief Tiger who pioneered the tall dream is an equally tall man, Adekunle Ojo. When his successor, Niyi Idowu, came on board there was great expectation that the project would develop in no time.
Many could see, literally, the new architectural master piece that Ojo dreamt about fully built within a year. That was then. Since Ojo left, the F.R.A. Williams Bar Centre as the new secretariat will be known is no where near completion. In fact, for many months, the structure remained as Ojo, the then Elekun of Ekunland left it.
To make matters worse, even the fence round the secretariat-in-embryo, in response to the heavy winds and rains of July - September 2007 fell under the spell of the law of gravity.
The new but out-going executive council of Niyi Idowu rose to the occasion. Work started anew, and the result is visible - walls have sprung up on the site. However, the progress made so far on the development of the centre is not good or fast enough, as far as many Tigers are concerned.
There is a theory that says the slow progress is due to the shortness of the knife. There is this diagnosis that the problem is with the yam, that it is too hard and thick. Yet there are those with propositions suggesting that the problem is that of the cooks.
Let me assure you that, all speculations such as these ones miss the point and very widely too. The reason why the new Tiger Den has not risen to its magnificent fullness and wonder is because there is a hidden impediment to its structural growth. The impediment is secret, subtle and spiritual. You see the ground upon which the New Den is to rise upon is polluted and unless special cleansing is carried out, I am afraid, building the F.R.A Williams Bar Centre will become an Israelite journey at best, a mission impossible at the worst.
For an effective cleansing up of a polluted site, one should know the nature of the pollution, especially the type and form of pollutant, as well as the strength, size and spread of the injurious stuff.
The knowledge of all these will guide the preparations and efforts of the cleanser.
Fortunately this is where we have got luck - there are a few of us, Tigers, who know what the pollutants are. And if only you too will take more than a passing interest in the lawns and grounds of the NBA Ikeja Bar Centre, at Compound B of the Ikeja High Court Premises, then you will see the “troublers of Israel.”
These pollutants virtually litter these places, so 'un-few' that you could see them dotting the landscape and even flourishing under flower beds and nearby gravel heaps.
What am I talking about? The pollutant under reference, has a popular and officially recognised name. But it has many nicknames. Some call it 'rubber,' some call it ‘rain coat’ some name it ‘security’ and some others tag it ‘insurance.'
That this pollutant has so many aliases should not surprise any able-bodied men and women. It is a most essential equipment for conquistadors of love who must explore the depths and thrills of passion in fused togetherness, with a fair degree of peace of mind, if not serenity.
I wonder why some people can be so outrageous in conduct. It is bad enough that of all the buildings in the High Court, the Tigers’ Secretariat is the preferred Love Garden of certain people. But to lack the grace, tact or reverence, not to leave evidence of their sexcapades in form of those “last lines of defence” on our secretariat grounds is taking the affront to the hilt.
Haba! Condoms here, condoms there, condoms all over the place. Tigers should wake up. We must be vigilant and be prepared to eat raw, any ‘rubber-dumper’ we find on our grounds.
Of course, we must act quickly to cleanse our secretariat. If we take this task as a mere joke, then too bad. After all I have told you the consequences of continuous condoning of (used and tortured) condoms on our land.
THE LEARNED SQUIB
About two years ago, the Tigers of Ikeja (NBA, Ikeja) launched the foundation of a new, bigger and better secretariat. The Chief Tiger who pioneered the tall dream is an equally tall man, Adekunle Ojo. When his successor, Niyi Idowu, came on board there was great expectation that the project would develop in no time.
Many could see, literally, the new architectural master piece that Ojo dreamt about fully built within a year. That was then. Since Ojo left, the F.R.A. Williams Bar Centre as the new secretariat will be known is no where near completion. In fact, for many months, the structure remained as Ojo, the then Elekun of Ekunland left it.
To make matters worse, even the fence round the secretariat-in-embryo, in response to the heavy winds and rains of July - September 2007 fell under the spell of the law of gravity.
The new but out-going executive council of Niyi Idowu rose to the occasion. Work started anew, and the result is visible - walls have sprung up on the site. However, the progress made so far on the development of the centre is not good or fast enough, as far as many Tigers are concerned.
There is a theory that says the slow progress is due to the shortness of the knife. There is this diagnosis that the problem is with the yam, that it is too hard and thick. Yet there are those with propositions suggesting that the problem is that of the cooks.
Let me assure you that, all speculations such as these ones miss the point and very widely too. The reason why the new Tiger Den has not risen to its magnificent fullness and wonder is because there is a hidden impediment to its structural growth. The impediment is secret, subtle and spiritual. You see the ground upon which the New Den is to rise upon is polluted and unless special cleansing is carried out, I am afraid, building the F.R.A Williams Bar Centre will become an Israelite journey at best, a mission impossible at the worst.
For an effective cleansing up of a polluted site, one should know the nature of the pollution, especially the type and form of pollutant, as well as the strength, size and spread of the injurious stuff.
The knowledge of all these will guide the preparations and efforts of the cleanser.
Fortunately this is where we have got luck - there are a few of us, Tigers, who know what the pollutants are. And if only you too will take more than a passing interest in the lawns and grounds of the NBA Ikeja Bar Centre, at Compound B of the Ikeja High Court Premises, then you will see the “troublers of Israel.”
These pollutants virtually litter these places, so 'un-few' that you could see them dotting the landscape and even flourishing under flower beds and nearby gravel heaps.
What am I talking about? The pollutant under reference, has a popular and officially recognised name. But it has many nicknames. Some call it 'rubber,' some call it ‘rain coat’ some name it ‘security’ and some others tag it ‘insurance.'
That this pollutant has so many aliases should not surprise any able-bodied men and women. It is a most essential equipment for conquistadors of love who must explore the depths and thrills of passion in fused togetherness, with a fair degree of peace of mind, if not serenity.
I wonder why some people can be so outrageous in conduct. It is bad enough that of all the buildings in the High Court, the Tigers’ Secretariat is the preferred Love Garden of certain people. But to lack the grace, tact or reverence, not to leave evidence of their sexcapades in form of those “last lines of defence” on our secretariat grounds is taking the affront to the hilt.
Haba! Condoms here, condoms there, condoms all over the place. Tigers should wake up. We must be vigilant and be prepared to eat raw, any ‘rubber-dumper’ we find on our grounds.
Of course, we must act quickly to cleanse our secretariat. If we take this task as a mere joke, then too bad. After all I have told you the consequences of continuous condoning of (used and tortured) condoms on our land.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
'At A Cousin's Party' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 8 No 13 14th January 2008
THE LEARNED SQUIB
A couple of Sundays ago, I was at a cousin’s party. Well, luncheon is more like it. At least that’s what the “owner of the occasion” dubbed it.
The luncheon was held to celebrate my cousin’s recent elevation to the highest niche in the legal profession. The celebration took place at the Golden Gate Restaurant, a rather touching coincidence I may say, considering that my cousin’s office is known and addressed as CITY GATE CHAMBERS.
Now, normal people attend such ‘get-togethers’ basically for four things - to eat, drink, dance and ‘to have fun.’ We know that to ‘have fun’ may include ‘chatting (gossiping) with friends and foes alike in false amity, showing off one’s party apparel, showing off one’s consort or concubine or laying the groundwork for future, even immediate romantic liaisons and conquests.
Other not so normal people make use of social events to do a lot of other things from plotting or and perfecting coups to solving the oldest riddle in Algebra since the Gordian knot. Personally, I do not indulge in such vices. If there is food to eat, I take and if there is drink, I also take. Naturally, as a gecko, the First Gecko, for that matter, I see ordinarily invisible things at parties and hear unspoken sounds.
Now let me share some of my gecko-ish perceptions at my cousin’s luncheon with you:
1. I saw a high court Judge, a beautiful lady, in a beautiful gown, the colour of the sea, curtsying to a Bishop, proving innocently that, Lords Temporal are below Lords Spiritual.
2. I saw another high court Judge, an African Madonna, walking up to a very senior lawyer and curtesying to him, proving innocently too, that rank is one thing, true seniority another.
3. I heard the admonition to the celebrant, from the only Bishop in attendance, that he should not take the briefs of looters of public treasuries. I heard the loud, endorsing claps of one famous human rights warrior and gainfully employed E.F.C.C consultant. At that moment it struck me that the warrior, not too long ago was counsel to some saintly ladies called Jennifer Madike and Toyin Igbira. I smiled into my moustache.
4. At a certain point, the children of my cousin were called out to identify with their daddy in his moment of glory. When a particular fellow saw the delectable Adesina sisters (and still growing) he tapped his friend on the shoulder, pointed covertly at the innocent beauties and declared:
“Vengeance is mine, says the Lord.” The friend burst out laughing. I did not wonder why.
5. I saw another high court Judge, yet another lady. Her very presence at the luncheon of my cousin was a thing of beauty. You see, the judge and my cousin had a tango up to the Disciplinary Committee of the NBA some years back.
The matter did not go the whole hog despite the initial heat and tension between judge and counsel. The matter was settled and apparently well settled. Proof - the presence of the honourable Judge at my cousin’s luncheon.
6. One of the most memorable speeches at the luncheon was my cousin’s. The man made clear how the benevolence and munificence of some other people helped him along the way up the ladder of success.
The necessary implication of this is that, he himself is under the obligation to conduct his life in such a way that complete strangers can use his now broad-shoulders as a launching pad for their own success. My cousin therefore should be the last person to follow the foot-paths of certain well known legal giants whose wealth is locked up within their family.
I rest my case, for now. Happy New Year.
THE LEARNED SQUIB
A couple of Sundays ago, I was at a cousin’s party. Well, luncheon is more like it. At least that’s what the “owner of the occasion” dubbed it.
The luncheon was held to celebrate my cousin’s recent elevation to the highest niche in the legal profession. The celebration took place at the Golden Gate Restaurant, a rather touching coincidence I may say, considering that my cousin’s office is known and addressed as CITY GATE CHAMBERS.
Now, normal people attend such ‘get-togethers’ basically for four things - to eat, drink, dance and ‘to have fun.’ We know that to ‘have fun’ may include ‘chatting (gossiping) with friends and foes alike in false amity, showing off one’s party apparel, showing off one’s consort or concubine or laying the groundwork for future, even immediate romantic liaisons and conquests.
Other not so normal people make use of social events to do a lot of other things from plotting or and perfecting coups to solving the oldest riddle in Algebra since the Gordian knot. Personally, I do not indulge in such vices. If there is food to eat, I take and if there is drink, I also take. Naturally, as a gecko, the First Gecko, for that matter, I see ordinarily invisible things at parties and hear unspoken sounds.
Now let me share some of my gecko-ish perceptions at my cousin’s luncheon with you:
1. I saw a high court Judge, a beautiful lady, in a beautiful gown, the colour of the sea, curtsying to a Bishop, proving innocently that, Lords Temporal are below Lords Spiritual.
2. I saw another high court Judge, an African Madonna, walking up to a very senior lawyer and curtesying to him, proving innocently too, that rank is one thing, true seniority another.
3. I heard the admonition to the celebrant, from the only Bishop in attendance, that he should not take the briefs of looters of public treasuries. I heard the loud, endorsing claps of one famous human rights warrior and gainfully employed E.F.C.C consultant. At that moment it struck me that the warrior, not too long ago was counsel to some saintly ladies called Jennifer Madike and Toyin Igbira. I smiled into my moustache.
4. At a certain point, the children of my cousin were called out to identify with their daddy in his moment of glory. When a particular fellow saw the delectable Adesina sisters (and still growing) he tapped his friend on the shoulder, pointed covertly at the innocent beauties and declared:
“Vengeance is mine, says the Lord.” The friend burst out laughing. I did not wonder why.
5. I saw another high court Judge, yet another lady. Her very presence at the luncheon of my cousin was a thing of beauty. You see, the judge and my cousin had a tango up to the Disciplinary Committee of the NBA some years back.
The matter did not go the whole hog despite the initial heat and tension between judge and counsel. The matter was settled and apparently well settled. Proof - the presence of the honourable Judge at my cousin’s luncheon.
6. One of the most memorable speeches at the luncheon was my cousin’s. The man made clear how the benevolence and munificence of some other people helped him along the way up the ladder of success.
The necessary implication of this is that, he himself is under the obligation to conduct his life in such a way that complete strangers can use his now broad-shoulders as a launching pad for their own success. My cousin therefore should be the last person to follow the foot-paths of certain well known legal giants whose wealth is locked up within their family.
I rest my case, for now. Happy New Year.
'The Memoirs of Daddy 3' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 8 No 12 10th December 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
I love my three daddies; Daddy 1, Daddy 2, Daddy 3. And, I love them in equally unequal proportions. All of them are in their seventies. One gave birth to me, the second gave bliss to me and the third gave backing to me. Don’t tell me you don’t understand riddles. Of these three daddies, the one I see most frequently is Daddy 3 and is the only one of my daddies who still goes on wearing natty suits and ties.
Sometimes, we travel together, especially to a golgothaic arena in the centre of Nigeria. Of course Daddy 3 was always on hand to ensure that no crucifixion of me takes place and that my (some say, stubborn) head stays on my shoulders.
Of course we don’t travel in silence. We talk, we gist and almost always on serious issues. Daddy 3 is a mine of information especially on law, politics and history. And what great ideas he has!
Daddy 3 is, as well known quite principled and a first class legal mind, but only relatively few people can claim to know him closely enough. Daddy 3 is now an old man. Then, he will become a grand old man and then one day he will become a was. Of course I don’t want that to ever happen, yet mortality, reality teaches us, is an inescapable fate of all humanity.
Fortunately, however there is a solution to the problem of mortality. An ever effective remedy and which turns mortality to immortality. That remedy is in putting pen to paper, about one’s ideas, one’s life, one’s dreams etc.
That’s the main reason, Mr. William Shakespeare still frolicks with us, any time. Even tomorrow good old Willie will still “dey kampe” because his ideas and thoughts have been immortalised in all those great works of his. Remember Julius Caesar? What of Merchant of Venice? Othello, nko?
Even right here in Nigeria, I know of such immortals. I know of Fela ‘Omo Iya Aje’, I know of Obafemi Awolowo. The former waxed records, the latter wrote books. Both had books written about them. How then can they die?
Of course when Chinua “Things Fall Apart” Achebe finally goes to the land of Eneke the Bird, where hopefully he will meet the master fabuist, Amos Tutuola, he will yet remain with us, hale and hearty. The same happy fate surely will befall Kongi, the action-packed Nobel Laureate.
This is the fate I want to befall Daddy 3. I don’t want him to go the way of that wizard of law, F.R.A Williams who knew so much but wrote so little. And not that F.R.A did not write; the problem was that the colossus was only writing briefs and not books.
I now invite every man and woman of good-will to join me to appeal, urge, persuade, enjoin, encourage, advise Daddy 3 to drop everything and face Project Immortality now!
Walahi, that baba is too precious, to be allowed to just disappear into eternity like that without adequate and permanent representations of his genius on our terra-firma.
ASSIGNMENT FOR MY FRIENDS:
1. Anytime you meet Chief G.O.K Ajayi SAN. After greeting him, politely ask, “Chief, when are your books coming out?”
2. Continue to send SMS to Chief G.O.K Ajayi SAN, asking, “Chief, when are your books coming out?”
P.S. Daddy 2 is a philosopher. For a feast of ideas, you can meet him at:
www.numberphilosophy.blogspot.com
and
www.myakokaverandah.blogspot.com
THE LEARNED SQUIB
I love my three daddies; Daddy 1, Daddy 2, Daddy 3. And, I love them in equally unequal proportions. All of them are in their seventies. One gave birth to me, the second gave bliss to me and the third gave backing to me. Don’t tell me you don’t understand riddles. Of these three daddies, the one I see most frequently is Daddy 3 and is the only one of my daddies who still goes on wearing natty suits and ties.
Sometimes, we travel together, especially to a golgothaic arena in the centre of Nigeria. Of course Daddy 3 was always on hand to ensure that no crucifixion of me takes place and that my (some say, stubborn) head stays on my shoulders.
Of course we don’t travel in silence. We talk, we gist and almost always on serious issues. Daddy 3 is a mine of information especially on law, politics and history. And what great ideas he has!
Daddy 3 is, as well known quite principled and a first class legal mind, but only relatively few people can claim to know him closely enough. Daddy 3 is now an old man. Then, he will become a grand old man and then one day he will become a was. Of course I don’t want that to ever happen, yet mortality, reality teaches us, is an inescapable fate of all humanity.
Fortunately, however there is a solution to the problem of mortality. An ever effective remedy and which turns mortality to immortality. That remedy is in putting pen to paper, about one’s ideas, one’s life, one’s dreams etc.
That’s the main reason, Mr. William Shakespeare still frolicks with us, any time. Even tomorrow good old Willie will still “dey kampe” because his ideas and thoughts have been immortalised in all those great works of his. Remember Julius Caesar? What of Merchant of Venice? Othello, nko?
Even right here in Nigeria, I know of such immortals. I know of Fela ‘Omo Iya Aje’, I know of Obafemi Awolowo. The former waxed records, the latter wrote books. Both had books written about them. How then can they die?
Of course when Chinua “Things Fall Apart” Achebe finally goes to the land of Eneke the Bird, where hopefully he will meet the master fabuist, Amos Tutuola, he will yet remain with us, hale and hearty. The same happy fate surely will befall Kongi, the action-packed Nobel Laureate.
This is the fate I want to befall Daddy 3. I don’t want him to go the way of that wizard of law, F.R.A Williams who knew so much but wrote so little. And not that F.R.A did not write; the problem was that the colossus was only writing briefs and not books.
I now invite every man and woman of good-will to join me to appeal, urge, persuade, enjoin, encourage, advise Daddy 3 to drop everything and face Project Immortality now!
Walahi, that baba is too precious, to be allowed to just disappear into eternity like that without adequate and permanent representations of his genius on our terra-firma.
ASSIGNMENT FOR MY FRIENDS:
1. Anytime you meet Chief G.O.K Ajayi SAN. After greeting him, politely ask, “Chief, when are your books coming out?”
2. Continue to send SMS to Chief G.O.K Ajayi SAN, asking, “Chief, when are your books coming out?”
P.S. Daddy 2 is a philosopher. For a feast of ideas, you can meet him at:
www.numberphilosophy.blogspot.com
and
www.myakokaverandah.blogspot.com
'More Hunger Ahead' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 8 No 11 3rd December 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
‘More Hunger Ahead’ By Adesina Ogunlana
In the olden days, in the days of Joseph, Balaam, Elisha, Daniel, up to the advent of newspapers and the birth of the www wizardry, you could only become a prophet or a seer by celestial or at least extra-terrestrial calling.
In those days, mental exertions and physical training would never make anyone a Nostradamus. No matter the level of trying, no matter the time of application. The best you could be by those methods was to end up a guesser. Of course we know that in the very precarious turf of prophesy where the propinquity of error to success is quite close indeed, guessers invariably end up losers.
In one word, in ancient times, you were either a prophet or not. But nowadays a newspaper freak, not to talk of an internet fly, has all what it takes to become a super-prophet or a grand seer. You see, when you have a lot of relevant information about a person, thing or an organization at your disposal, with a little application of commonsense, you can confidently look into the seeds of time and say with confidence which ones will germinate and which ones will not.
Of course a newspaper fed prophet or an internet enabled seer may not cut the traditional figure of a diviner one inch. Instead of the penetrating gaze of the prophet of old or his long beard, the modern ‘Nostra’ may look like an Adonis. Of course, Adonis’ are either clean shaven or adorn their chins with designer hair styles. They don’t go about with dirty, tangled beards.
Happily, the hood does not the monk make. The efficiency and reliability of modern day prophets has little or nothing to do with their possibly snazzy looks. You don’t have to be wonky to be a trustworthy visionary, neither do you need to mouth any mantras to get the job done.
I consider myself one of the modern prophets in question and I hereby prophesy unto you all. I prophecy that there is going to be more hunger for Lagos lawyers in the next few weeks. Don’t sneer at me or at the prophecy. It will come to pass. But first, let me tell you how I know what will surely happen.
If you will only turn with me to page 3 of the December 1, 2007 edition of the Saturday Sun, you will be privy to the information I have had since December 1.
The news was that judiciary staff would be embarking on another round of nation wide strike as from January 15, 2008 if the Body of Chief Judges of Nigeria “fails to meet its earlier 4-point demands.”
Now, here’s the prophecy – the workers will surely go on strike. The reason is very simple: nobody in Nigeria, especially at the management levels, ever takes workers seriously until push comes to shove.
Now here’s the second prophecy: as from late January 2008 when the Judiciary Staff Union of Nigeria (JUSAN) will once again shut down the judiciary nation wide, many lawyers, especially Lagos lawyers, will experience lean pockets and even leaner tummies.
I assume that everybody knows that many practicing lawyers in Lagos State since the beginning of the New Legal Year in September 2007 have experienced a sharp lull in business. The reason is chiefly due to the incarceration of thousands of non-part heard cases in the registry where they were returned to, in the wake of the mass re-posting of judges from their various Cause Divisions.
Now, a grimmer immediate future awaits us all in late January 2008 since the courts will surely be shut down then. For the moment at least, we are able to eke out a living since courts, lethargic and infirm as they are, are still on; in January 2008, our ‘market’ will come under lock and key.
Why am I so sure that the courts will be paralysed in January 2008? The reality of this is already obvious to discerning souls.
First from now till January 14, the authorities will pretend not to have notice of the impending strike. Then from the 15th to the 22nd January 2008, the authorities will indulge themselves in making nasty remarks about the JUSAN leadership. It is only after, say the 3rd of February, that Messrs High and Mighty will begin to consider having any dialogue with the striking workers while at the same time start the blackmail programme of labeling the striking workers as “unpatriotic elements who want to truncate our nascent democracy for narrow, selfish reasons.”
Finally, around the outer rim of February 2008, one or two concessions will be made to the workers. Shall I go on prophesying? The spirit has really woken up in me.
Prepare, dear learned friends, prepare for January, February, even March 2008. It will be a long winter.
Related links: www.squiblogg.blogspot.com
www.squibcoverstory.blogspot.com
www.squibreaderspavilion.blogspot.com
TAGS/KEYWORDS: judiciary staff, strike, Lagos lawyers, JUSUN, Nigerian legal authorities, Chief Judge of Nigeria
THE LEARNED SQUIB
‘More Hunger Ahead’ By Adesina Ogunlana
In the olden days, in the days of Joseph, Balaam, Elisha, Daniel, up to the advent of newspapers and the birth of the www wizardry, you could only become a prophet or a seer by celestial or at least extra-terrestrial calling.
In those days, mental exertions and physical training would never make anyone a Nostradamus. No matter the level of trying, no matter the time of application. The best you could be by those methods was to end up a guesser. Of course we know that in the very precarious turf of prophesy where the propinquity of error to success is quite close indeed, guessers invariably end up losers.
In one word, in ancient times, you were either a prophet or not. But nowadays a newspaper freak, not to talk of an internet fly, has all what it takes to become a super-prophet or a grand seer. You see, when you have a lot of relevant information about a person, thing or an organization at your disposal, with a little application of commonsense, you can confidently look into the seeds of time and say with confidence which ones will germinate and which ones will not.
Of course a newspaper fed prophet or an internet enabled seer may not cut the traditional figure of a diviner one inch. Instead of the penetrating gaze of the prophet of old or his long beard, the modern ‘Nostra’ may look like an Adonis. Of course, Adonis’ are either clean shaven or adorn their chins with designer hair styles. They don’t go about with dirty, tangled beards.
Happily, the hood does not the monk make. The efficiency and reliability of modern day prophets has little or nothing to do with their possibly snazzy looks. You don’t have to be wonky to be a trustworthy visionary, neither do you need to mouth any mantras to get the job done.
I consider myself one of the modern prophets in question and I hereby prophesy unto you all. I prophecy that there is going to be more hunger for Lagos lawyers in the next few weeks. Don’t sneer at me or at the prophecy. It will come to pass. But first, let me tell you how I know what will surely happen.
If you will only turn with me to page 3 of the December 1, 2007 edition of the Saturday Sun, you will be privy to the information I have had since December 1.
The news was that judiciary staff would be embarking on another round of nation wide strike as from January 15, 2008 if the Body of Chief Judges of Nigeria “fails to meet its earlier 4-point demands.”
Now, here’s the prophecy – the workers will surely go on strike. The reason is very simple: nobody in Nigeria, especially at the management levels, ever takes workers seriously until push comes to shove.
Now here’s the second prophecy: as from late January 2008 when the Judiciary Staff Union of Nigeria (JUSAN) will once again shut down the judiciary nation wide, many lawyers, especially Lagos lawyers, will experience lean pockets and even leaner tummies.
I assume that everybody knows that many practicing lawyers in Lagos State since the beginning of the New Legal Year in September 2007 have experienced a sharp lull in business. The reason is chiefly due to the incarceration of thousands of non-part heard cases in the registry where they were returned to, in the wake of the mass re-posting of judges from their various Cause Divisions.
Now, a grimmer immediate future awaits us all in late January 2008 since the courts will surely be shut down then. For the moment at least, we are able to eke out a living since courts, lethargic and infirm as they are, are still on; in January 2008, our ‘market’ will come under lock and key.
Why am I so sure that the courts will be paralysed in January 2008? The reality of this is already obvious to discerning souls.
First from now till January 14, the authorities will pretend not to have notice of the impending strike. Then from the 15th to the 22nd January 2008, the authorities will indulge themselves in making nasty remarks about the JUSAN leadership. It is only after, say the 3rd of February, that Messrs High and Mighty will begin to consider having any dialogue with the striking workers while at the same time start the blackmail programme of labeling the striking workers as “unpatriotic elements who want to truncate our nascent democracy for narrow, selfish reasons.”
Finally, around the outer rim of February 2008, one or two concessions will be made to the workers. Shall I go on prophesying? The spirit has really woken up in me.
Prepare, dear learned friends, prepare for January, February, even March 2008. It will be a long winter.
Related links: www.squiblogg.blogspot.com
www.squibcoverstory.blogspot.com
www.squibreaderspavilion.blogspot.com
TAGS/KEYWORDS: judiciary staff, strike, Lagos lawyers, JUSUN, Nigerian legal authorities, Chief Judge of Nigeria
'Jones and Jane' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 8 No 10 26th November 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
My attention was very recently drawn to a rather juicy morsel of news. The morsel was a part of the info wrap laid in the confines of a news-plate-the Independent Newspaper of Thursday October 25 2007.
The morsel of news in question had an ‘ear-watering’ title “LAW SCHOOL EXPELS SEXY COUPLE”. It was when I bit into the news, that I realised that the couple was not flung out of the lawyer’s bakery for been sex-y, but being sex-ual.
It would even appear that the un-named couple, hereinafter called Jones and Jane, got the marching orders not because they were just sex-ual, but because they were ‘sex-ual’ in the open. According to the short, snappy and tasty strip of news, the couple was caught ‘pants down’ by the “dreaded” security marshals of the law school pants down for “doing it” at the back of the library.”
After a deep reflection on the matter, I concluded that the couple’s real sin was not being sexy, or sexual or openly sexual but being unlawyerly enough to be caught “doing it” and doing it “pants down.”
I am not even very sure that the Law School has been very fair to these true son and daughter of Adam and Eve. For obeying the law of nature, which says that when fire meets petrol, there must be combustion and explosion, Jones and Jane are now denied the opportunity of realising their dreams of becoming inhabitants of the Nigerian Bar!
Seriously speaking, that’s a punishment greatly exceeding the offence. The authorities of the Law School should put the following points into consideration in turning the expulsion into suspension and a short one at that.
{1} Abuja in Octobers is a hot city and the work-load of the Law School is heavy, so students, even teachers need to cool down to maintain their sanity.
{2} Jones and Jane engaged in consensual, heterosexual activity, and not forced or homosexual liaisons.
{3} Jones and Jane did not explore themselves in the innards of the library thereby desecrating it, rather they betook themselves to the back of the house of books to re-enact the sweltering saga of Richard and Tatiana in Big Brother Africa 2
{4} Jones and Jane straight-away admitted their deed of basic biology and did not make any smart-alec moves to turn the table against their captors, the so called dreaded Law School marshals.
{5} The Law School itself is becoming very modern: at least students now must own {by hook or crook} lap-tops and so the open body-in-body interaction of Jones and Jane should be seen as one of the signs and trends of these modern times.
{6} Finally, the authorities should realise that to {have} sex is human, very human and to forgive is divine. So Jones and Jane should be recalled. I rest my case.
Upon recall, Jones and Jane should be sent to different campuses. One should be sent to Kano while the other should be taken to Enugu or Lagos. With such a measure, I believe the only possible place they can meet again in common is either at the NYSC Camp or the altar.
I, prefer the latter.
THE LEARNED SQUIB
My attention was very recently drawn to a rather juicy morsel of news. The morsel was a part of the info wrap laid in the confines of a news-plate-the Independent Newspaper of Thursday October 25 2007.
The morsel of news in question had an ‘ear-watering’ title “LAW SCHOOL EXPELS SEXY COUPLE”. It was when I bit into the news, that I realised that the couple was not flung out of the lawyer’s bakery for been sex-y, but being sex-ual.
It would even appear that the un-named couple, hereinafter called Jones and Jane, got the marching orders not because they were just sex-ual, but because they were ‘sex-ual’ in the open. According to the short, snappy and tasty strip of news, the couple was caught ‘pants down’ by the “dreaded” security marshals of the law school pants down for “doing it” at the back of the library.”
After a deep reflection on the matter, I concluded that the couple’s real sin was not being sexy, or sexual or openly sexual but being unlawyerly enough to be caught “doing it” and doing it “pants down.”
I am not even very sure that the Law School has been very fair to these true son and daughter of Adam and Eve. For obeying the law of nature, which says that when fire meets petrol, there must be combustion and explosion, Jones and Jane are now denied the opportunity of realising their dreams of becoming inhabitants of the Nigerian Bar!
Seriously speaking, that’s a punishment greatly exceeding the offence. The authorities of the Law School should put the following points into consideration in turning the expulsion into suspension and a short one at that.
{1} Abuja in Octobers is a hot city and the work-load of the Law School is heavy, so students, even teachers need to cool down to maintain their sanity.
{2} Jones and Jane engaged in consensual, heterosexual activity, and not forced or homosexual liaisons.
{3} Jones and Jane did not explore themselves in the innards of the library thereby desecrating it, rather they betook themselves to the back of the house of books to re-enact the sweltering saga of Richard and Tatiana in Big Brother Africa 2
{4} Jones and Jane straight-away admitted their deed of basic biology and did not make any smart-alec moves to turn the table against their captors, the so called dreaded Law School marshals.
{5} The Law School itself is becoming very modern: at least students now must own {by hook or crook} lap-tops and so the open body-in-body interaction of Jones and Jane should be seen as one of the signs and trends of these modern times.
{6} Finally, the authorities should realise that to {have} sex is human, very human and to forgive is divine. So Jones and Jane should be recalled. I rest my case.
Upon recall, Jones and Jane should be sent to different campuses. One should be sent to Kano while the other should be taken to Enugu or Lagos. With such a measure, I believe the only possible place they can meet again in common is either at the NYSC Camp or the altar.
I, prefer the latter.
'The Waterfall Division' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 8 No 9 19th November 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
The few times I have stolen time to watch the WHO WANTS TO BE A MILLIONAIRE? show on television, I have found it quite interesting. The show has a few interesting condiments of excitement, guaranteed to fascinate and exhilarate at the same time.
My favourite condiment? The presenter? No. The audience? The gadgetry and setting? No. The Questions? No. The Answer Options? No. The Answers? No.
By now, you are probably twisting your nose and wondering at the direction of my thoughts? If you think I am daft or something similar, you won’t be quite wrong. Come to think of it, how much brains does a gecko have?
Now let me tell you the aspects I really enjoy in the show. It is the combination of question and answer options. The questions thrill me a lot. They range from sun-up to sun-set. They stretch from the Sahara to Ice-land. They rise from the earth and reach to the heavens. The questions cover all the colours of the rainbow
Little wonder then that you find some of the questions so simple that even a yam head will not spend a second in answering them. Yet there are some questions that will throw just about anyone except rara avis with splinters of Solomonic sagacity or those with microfilmed encyclopedia tucked deeply away in their medulla oblongata. However, more fascinating and titillating and not infrequently maddening are the answer-options provided. They often render many contestants confused and dazed.
At least two of these options will seem to be the right answers. But there can only be one correct answer. So dilemma arises.
In this article today, I, suo motu, create the SQUIB version of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? Anybody who wins becomes a Squib millionaire. Automatically. I have Three Questions for interested readers.
{a} How many divisions {e.g Lands, General Civil} does the Lagos State High Court have?
OPTIONS: {A} 5, {B} 8, {C} 7 and {D} 6
{b} Who are the judges in the Waterfall Division?
OPTIONS:
{a} Oshodi, Akande, Ayo and Coker
{b} Coker, Nicol-Clay, Obadina and Olokoba
{c} Oyefeso, Coker, Oshodi and Kayode-Ogunmenkan
{d} Oshodi, Coker, Okunnu and Oyefeso
{c} Why is the Watefall Division so named?
OPTIONS:
{a} Because the courts in the division float on water.
{b} Because litigants in courts in the Division are all from
Osun-Osogbo grove.
{c} Because water from the air conditioners in the four courts
in the division escape into the corridor, flooding the whole place and runs down stairs every day yet nobody cares about the situation even though moss and fauna are growing steadily on the wet and increasingly slippery surface.
{d} Because the courts in the division deal only with maritime cases.
To increase your chances of making correct choices, I give you these useful tips:
{a} The Waterfall Division is exclusively located in Compound A of the Ikeja High Court.
{b} All the judges in that Division are below 50 years of age.
{c} Only one of the judges is a male, the rest are females.
So, now my dears, Who Wants To Be A Miliionaire? Squib Millionaire.
THE LEARNED SQUIB
The few times I have stolen time to watch the WHO WANTS TO BE A MILLIONAIRE? show on television, I have found it quite interesting. The show has a few interesting condiments of excitement, guaranteed to fascinate and exhilarate at the same time.
My favourite condiment? The presenter? No. The audience? The gadgetry and setting? No. The Questions? No. The Answer Options? No. The Answers? No.
By now, you are probably twisting your nose and wondering at the direction of my thoughts? If you think I am daft or something similar, you won’t be quite wrong. Come to think of it, how much brains does a gecko have?
Now let me tell you the aspects I really enjoy in the show. It is the combination of question and answer options. The questions thrill me a lot. They range from sun-up to sun-set. They stretch from the Sahara to Ice-land. They rise from the earth and reach to the heavens. The questions cover all the colours of the rainbow
Little wonder then that you find some of the questions so simple that even a yam head will not spend a second in answering them. Yet there are some questions that will throw just about anyone except rara avis with splinters of Solomonic sagacity or those with microfilmed encyclopedia tucked deeply away in their medulla oblongata. However, more fascinating and titillating and not infrequently maddening are the answer-options provided. They often render many contestants confused and dazed.
At least two of these options will seem to be the right answers. But there can only be one correct answer. So dilemma arises.
In this article today, I, suo motu, create the SQUIB version of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? Anybody who wins becomes a Squib millionaire. Automatically. I have Three Questions for interested readers.
{a} How many divisions {e.g Lands, General Civil} does the Lagos State High Court have?
OPTIONS: {A} 5, {B} 8, {C} 7 and {D} 6
{b} Who are the judges in the Waterfall Division?
OPTIONS:
{a} Oshodi, Akande, Ayo and Coker
{b} Coker, Nicol-Clay, Obadina and Olokoba
{c} Oyefeso, Coker, Oshodi and Kayode-Ogunmenkan
{d} Oshodi, Coker, Okunnu and Oyefeso
{c} Why is the Watefall Division so named?
OPTIONS:
{a} Because the courts in the division float on water.
{b} Because litigants in courts in the Division are all from
Osun-Osogbo grove.
{c} Because water from the air conditioners in the four courts
in the division escape into the corridor, flooding the whole place and runs down stairs every day yet nobody cares about the situation even though moss and fauna are growing steadily on the wet and increasingly slippery surface.
{d} Because the courts in the division deal only with maritime cases.
To increase your chances of making correct choices, I give you these useful tips:
{a} The Waterfall Division is exclusively located in Compound A of the Ikeja High Court.
{b} All the judges in that Division are below 50 years of age.
{c} Only one of the judges is a male, the rest are females.
So, now my dears, Who Wants To Be A Miliionaire? Squib Millionaire.
'The Same Old Story' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 8 No 9 19th November 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
If a man tells one story today, and tells it tomorrow, mouths it the day after, and still remembers to bring it up the week after, he is sure to bore one. It does not matter the nature of the story - whether nice or nasty, whether joyous or sorrowful, whether a tale of woe or a yarn of wonder-once it is the same and one story told, retold, reborn, refurbished, re-polished, regurgitated, re-done, re-presented, re-wrought, re-spun, it must bore the listener.
Little wonder at that, since variety is and will always remain the spice of life. A man must have more than one story to tell, except he has taken his listeners for hard-of hearing folks.
It is quite annoying and painful to be in the company of one-story people, especially if they are not the type one can order to “shut up” or walk-out on.
Let me digress a bit. Please and please. Last week some Tiger chiefs (leaders of the NBA Ikeja branch) went to the office of the Chief Judge of Lagos State. From what I heard from some geckos, these visiting Tigers were actually surprised to find that Mr. Justice Ade Alabi, the venerable Chief Judge “on seat”. They had thought that the Chief would be in far away Abuja attending the well published Judges Conference.
After receiving them, the Honourable Chief Judge asked for their mission. You know it’s never an easy sight beholding a band of tigers. Even a solitary tiger is danger enough.
Trust the Ikeja Tigers, they poured out their hearts, how they were sent by “our people to enquire from your Lordship what your office was doing in solving the problem of delayed re-assignment of part heard cases”.
From what I learnt, the chief judge, in response, showed the Tigers that erudition did not start and end with them (tigers).
The Chief Judge made lengthy explanations and promises, but not forgetting to add one story.
An old story. The same old story. That same old story. Yes that very story. Sure you know it now.
Want me to say it? It is the same old story of the honourable Chief Judge, by the honourable Chief Judge, how (here it comes once again)
“the Bar did not support me to become the Chief Judge.
How you people opposed me and preferred another judge to me to become the Chief Judge”.
My friend why are you wincing? Didn’t I tell you it’s an old, old story? But it is the favourite story of our Chief Judge, anytime his Lordship meets with the Bar, especially the Tiger Bar.
For the records, Mr. Justice Augustine Adetula Alabi became the Chief Judge of Lagos State in July 2004 and we are now in 2007. 2008 is already knocking on the door. When it comes, will we still hear that old story again? That same old story. I pray not. Seriously.
THE LEARNED SQUIB
If a man tells one story today, and tells it tomorrow, mouths it the day after, and still remembers to bring it up the week after, he is sure to bore one. It does not matter the nature of the story - whether nice or nasty, whether joyous or sorrowful, whether a tale of woe or a yarn of wonder-once it is the same and one story told, retold, reborn, refurbished, re-polished, regurgitated, re-done, re-presented, re-wrought, re-spun, it must bore the listener.
Little wonder at that, since variety is and will always remain the spice of life. A man must have more than one story to tell, except he has taken his listeners for hard-of hearing folks.
It is quite annoying and painful to be in the company of one-story people, especially if they are not the type one can order to “shut up” or walk-out on.
Let me digress a bit. Please and please. Last week some Tiger chiefs (leaders of the NBA Ikeja branch) went to the office of the Chief Judge of Lagos State. From what I heard from some geckos, these visiting Tigers were actually surprised to find that Mr. Justice Ade Alabi, the venerable Chief Judge “on seat”. They had thought that the Chief would be in far away Abuja attending the well published Judges Conference.
After receiving them, the Honourable Chief Judge asked for their mission. You know it’s never an easy sight beholding a band of tigers. Even a solitary tiger is danger enough.
Trust the Ikeja Tigers, they poured out their hearts, how they were sent by “our people to enquire from your Lordship what your office was doing in solving the problem of delayed re-assignment of part heard cases”.
From what I learnt, the chief judge, in response, showed the Tigers that erudition did not start and end with them (tigers).
The Chief Judge made lengthy explanations and promises, but not forgetting to add one story.
An old story. The same old story. That same old story. Yes that very story. Sure you know it now.
Want me to say it? It is the same old story of the honourable Chief Judge, by the honourable Chief Judge, how (here it comes once again)
“the Bar did not support me to become the Chief Judge.
How you people opposed me and preferred another judge to me to become the Chief Judge”.
My friend why are you wincing? Didn’t I tell you it’s an old, old story? But it is the favourite story of our Chief Judge, anytime his Lordship meets with the Bar, especially the Tiger Bar.
For the records, Mr. Justice Augustine Adetula Alabi became the Chief Judge of Lagos State in July 2004 and we are now in 2007. 2008 is already knocking on the door. When it comes, will we still hear that old story again? That same old story. I pray not. Seriously.
'They Come With Envelopes' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 8 No 7 5th November 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
There are readers and there are readers. Readers of the Squib Magazine; remember the Squib? That’s the magazine with the singular distinction of being judicially and judiciously branded by a former Chief Judge of Lagos State (Nigeria), the incomparable “Debisi Baby” as “an obnoxious publication.”
One wonders however, how “an obnoxious publication” has not only survived for the past six years but is even growing from strength to strength in “sweet wickedness.”
But I digress. We were talking about the readers of the Squib. You see, Squib readers come in different shapes and styles. And I, the First Gecko, should know.
A major group of Squib readers are those I take the liberty to label the SQUIB ADDICTS or SQUIBADDIES for short.
Squibaddies love to read the Squib so much that they feel great pain and a deep sense of loss anytime the fire-workish magazine is not on the stands. A squibaddie confessed to me a couple of weeks ago that for him the squib is a weekly tonic which “I cannot afford to miss.”
However despite their addiction, there are squibaddies who cannot openly identify with their piece of ‘intellectual cocaine’ and engrossing literary howitzer.
On the surface, these members of the Nicodemus sub-specie of Squibaddies, may appear to have no interest at all in the “obnoxious publication.” In public and in polite circles, you will never hear or see them indicating any interest in the Squib. But there in their closets and drawers, both at home and in the office, you will find piles and piles of the obnoxious publication.
In getting their regular shots, Squibaddies of the Nicodemus sub-class are quite ingenious. I tell you. This is how they go about it. Sorry, I changed my mind. Instead of cheaply divulging the secret to you, I invite you on a voyage of discovery.
In the mornings, especially Mondays and Tuesdays, just go to a spot in the Ikeja High Court called the SQUIB ROTUNDA. You will see some Squib-selling folk there. After a while you will see some other folk coming from different temples of justice, approaching the Rotunda, after glancing furtively about, one after the other. Usually these other folk hold big brown envelopes in their hands. Then when they are right under the Rotunda, these envelope bearers quickly give some quid to the Squib sellers and with the same alacrity pick their ‘drug’ and deposit it efficiently in their envelopes. Then they go back to their offices and to their lords.
Some minutes later, you will hear (if you have Squib-like ears) one ‘milord or milady calling another milady on the phone, saying
“Ah, have you seen the Squib today? It is too much.
Omo yen o ni pa wa! (that guy will not be the death of us!)
Of course, it is no surprise then that more and more envelope bearers will turn up from you know where, for you know what, under the SQUIB ROTUNDA.
THE LEARNED SQUIB
There are readers and there are readers. Readers of the Squib Magazine; remember the Squib? That’s the magazine with the singular distinction of being judicially and judiciously branded by a former Chief Judge of Lagos State (Nigeria), the incomparable “Debisi Baby” as “an obnoxious publication.”
One wonders however, how “an obnoxious publication” has not only survived for the past six years but is even growing from strength to strength in “sweet wickedness.”
But I digress. We were talking about the readers of the Squib. You see, Squib readers come in different shapes and styles. And I, the First Gecko, should know.
A major group of Squib readers are those I take the liberty to label the SQUIB ADDICTS or SQUIBADDIES for short.
Squibaddies love to read the Squib so much that they feel great pain and a deep sense of loss anytime the fire-workish magazine is not on the stands. A squibaddie confessed to me a couple of weeks ago that for him the squib is a weekly tonic which “I cannot afford to miss.”
However despite their addiction, there are squibaddies who cannot openly identify with their piece of ‘intellectual cocaine’ and engrossing literary howitzer.
On the surface, these members of the Nicodemus sub-specie of Squibaddies, may appear to have no interest at all in the “obnoxious publication.” In public and in polite circles, you will never hear or see them indicating any interest in the Squib. But there in their closets and drawers, both at home and in the office, you will find piles and piles of the obnoxious publication.
In getting their regular shots, Squibaddies of the Nicodemus sub-class are quite ingenious. I tell you. This is how they go about it. Sorry, I changed my mind. Instead of cheaply divulging the secret to you, I invite you on a voyage of discovery.
In the mornings, especially Mondays and Tuesdays, just go to a spot in the Ikeja High Court called the SQUIB ROTUNDA. You will see some Squib-selling folk there. After a while you will see some other folk coming from different temples of justice, approaching the Rotunda, after glancing furtively about, one after the other. Usually these other folk hold big brown envelopes in their hands. Then when they are right under the Rotunda, these envelope bearers quickly give some quid to the Squib sellers and with the same alacrity pick their ‘drug’ and deposit it efficiently in their envelopes. Then they go back to their offices and to their lords.
Some minutes later, you will hear (if you have Squib-like ears) one ‘milord or milady calling another milady on the phone, saying
“Ah, have you seen the Squib today? It is too much.
Omo yen o ni pa wa! (that guy will not be the death of us!)
Of course, it is no surprise then that more and more envelope bearers will turn up from you know where, for you know what, under the SQUIB ROTUNDA.
'The Dame?' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 8 No 6 29th October 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
The Bible has a lot of touching, fascinating stories, so much so that some have irreverently, I dare say ignorantly, dismissed the Golden Book as a mere literature tome. Bible stories are really interesting, I tell you; world beater classics. From page 1 to the very end.
Of course, you know the ‘Apple Saga’ of Adam and Eve. What of the Grass to Grace epic of Joseph the Dreamer. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of the parting of the Red Sea? What of David and Goliath? Fabulous Solomon is also there. What of the heroics of the various Prophets, Princes and Principalities?
To me, one of the most intriguing Bible stories is that of the Prophet/Leader Moses. This was a man who became a revolutionary at the tender age of 40. He launched his career by felling a human being with some choice blows to, I guess, the head. The slain man was an oppressor of Moses’ folks, the Israelites. The next day, after this quick but murderous justice delivery, the emergency saviour, waded uninvited into another fight. This time, a fight between two Israelites. Right in the middle of his self-appointed adjudication, one of the parties (bet he was the defendant), brought a preliminary objection, challenging the competence of Justice Moses to entertain the suit. The defendant said and I quote:
“Who made you a judge over us?” Now instead of Moses showing his credentials, he showed them something more emphatic – his pair of heels.
Like that unknown jurist who sent Moses packing by exposing him as an impostor, I am constrained to ask a learned friend of mine, a similar question. The learned friend, is, was, and is once again now, a member of the NBA Lagos Branch. The learned friend is a woman or do we say lady. She has keen interest in bar politics and has for quite some time now (since 2002) been angling for the job of the General Secretary of the NBA.
This my learned friend has a pet name for herself: “The Abraham Lincoln of the NBA.” Maybe she is entitled to that cognomen – after all, it is not everyone who can keep their chin up after four successive heavy electoral defeats.
The question I have for my learned friend is this:
“Who made you a Dame over us?”
According to my dictionaries, a ‘Dame’ is (at least) a married woman, the wife of a noble man. But our own dame is not married to anybody, titleholder or no. I really wonder at Carol Ajie why this damn, sorry, dame thing? Is it because of the fame of the name, dame?
Carol, I ask again, who made you a dame over us? And when? And where? And how?
Until you give answer to these questions, you remain to me ordinary Carol, Carol onikaba, if you like.
THE LEARNED SQUIB
The Bible has a lot of touching, fascinating stories, so much so that some have irreverently, I dare say ignorantly, dismissed the Golden Book as a mere literature tome. Bible stories are really interesting, I tell you; world beater classics. From page 1 to the very end.
Of course, you know the ‘Apple Saga’ of Adam and Eve. What of the Grass to Grace epic of Joseph the Dreamer. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of the parting of the Red Sea? What of David and Goliath? Fabulous Solomon is also there. What of the heroics of the various Prophets, Princes and Principalities?
To me, one of the most intriguing Bible stories is that of the Prophet/Leader Moses. This was a man who became a revolutionary at the tender age of 40. He launched his career by felling a human being with some choice blows to, I guess, the head. The slain man was an oppressor of Moses’ folks, the Israelites. The next day, after this quick but murderous justice delivery, the emergency saviour, waded uninvited into another fight. This time, a fight between two Israelites. Right in the middle of his self-appointed adjudication, one of the parties (bet he was the defendant), brought a preliminary objection, challenging the competence of Justice Moses to entertain the suit. The defendant said and I quote:
“Who made you a judge over us?” Now instead of Moses showing his credentials, he showed them something more emphatic – his pair of heels.
Like that unknown jurist who sent Moses packing by exposing him as an impostor, I am constrained to ask a learned friend of mine, a similar question. The learned friend, is, was, and is once again now, a member of the NBA Lagos Branch. The learned friend is a woman or do we say lady. She has keen interest in bar politics and has for quite some time now (since 2002) been angling for the job of the General Secretary of the NBA.
This my learned friend has a pet name for herself: “The Abraham Lincoln of the NBA.” Maybe she is entitled to that cognomen – after all, it is not everyone who can keep their chin up after four successive heavy electoral defeats.
The question I have for my learned friend is this:
“Who made you a Dame over us?”
According to my dictionaries, a ‘Dame’ is (at least) a married woman, the wife of a noble man. But our own dame is not married to anybody, titleholder or no. I really wonder at Carol Ajie why this damn, sorry, dame thing? Is it because of the fame of the name, dame?
Carol, I ask again, who made you a dame over us? And when? And where? And how?
Until you give answer to these questions, you remain to me ordinary Carol, Carol onikaba, if you like.
'Timi's Will' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 8 No 5 22nd October 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
We have, I believe come to the end of Act One in the increasingly fascinating play/soap opera called “TIMI’S (Unseen) WILL. Don’t tell me you’ve not been watching this opera. Gosh! Have you been spending all your time on lesser entertainment such as BB2 – where much of what you get to see is muck: - mock home, mock home-making, mock love, mock lovemaking and real mammary gland exposure! For those who may not know, Timi’s (Unseen) Will hereinafter referred to as TUW is just about four very grown up children of a famous Nigerian lawyer who died in 2005. These children, all boys, sorry, all men are warring amongst themselves over the control and I dare say, enjoyment of their late father’s vast estate.
So far, it is an even, balanced contest – it is a two against two thing. That’s an indication of how decent and fair minded children from a greatly cultured family background behave even when at war. Two against two is neat, nice and meet.
Now let me give some flesh to the identities of the dramatis persona.
The paterfamilias of the four fighting children is none other than Frederick Rotimi Alade Williams S.A.N a.k.a Timi the Law. Timi’s first son is Ladi a.k.a “Ladi Gentleman” (in his younolarger days). The second is Kayode, a prosperous land tiller. The third is Folarin, a lawyer and business man. The last but not the least or darkest is Tokunbo, a lawyer too and a Senior Advocate like his first brother – Ladi.
Further information about the dispute is that the two older brothers (Ladi and Kayode) are more or less together while the younger two, Folarin and Tokunbo form the opposing force. To put it in sharper relief, we have a tag-team ‘A’ LADIKAY fighting tag-team ‘B’ to wit FOLATOKS.
So far, the most intriguing aspect of the plot of the play is the absence of F.R.A Williams’ Will. That fact to many people seems quite odd indeed. How can it be that a lawyer of F.R.A Williams’ status would not leave behind a Will to govern the administration and appropriation of his vast estate?
This is the question millions of Nigerians have been asking one another since the opera debuted. Of course, everybody knows Rotimi Williams was not just any lawyer. He was the best, the very best, not only in Nigeria, but in all of Africa. So why should such a man leave a vast financial empire without a will?
Could his action stem from ignorance? Could it be an oversight? Could it be from wickedness? Could it be from indifference? I suspect and there are a few others who suspect that, the extraordinary F.R.A actually wrote and left a will, but in an extra-ordinary manner. Such a will cannot be seen with the naked eyes, or held with bare fingers. It is only sages and deep spiritualists that can see F.R.A Williams Will. Are you puzzled? If so, then this story will help.
Once upon a time a wealthy trader died. Before he died, he gathered his twenty children around his bed and prayed for them. Days before his transition he kept telling his children never to depend on his wealth or other inheritance but to struggle and really make their own names and fortunes. Just before he died, he indicated where he kept his fortunes – a very large, uncultivated farmland of several acres.
Said the old man, - “All my jewelry, my sacks of money are somewhere there.”
What news this was in the ears of the children – they knew never knew how really wealthy their father was! After burying the old man, the children could hardly wait to discover their fortune.
Three days after their old man was committed to mother earth, the troop rushed to the farmland. They searched diligently through the bush, combed all the undergrowth but drew blank. The failure to find the bags of treasure their father hid on the farmland saddened and puzzled the trader’s children. So they embarked on another search, this time around, more thoroughly and very slowly. Alas, after three days of meticulous search, they discovered nothing more precious than a dozen eggs of a partridge, ten snails and the shed skin of an old snake.
Feeling very sad indeed, the troop decided to seek from an elder, counsel about their predicament. The elder asked them to dig up the farmland; “somewhere on the farm lies your father’s treasure.” It took the twenty children three whole weeks to complete their labour. It was indeed a backbreaking job. But once again, it yielded no treasure.
Thoroughly beaten by now, the embittered and dispirited children trooped back to the house of the elder who had instructed them to dig up the farmland and told him of their misfortune. The elder however insisted that their father’s treasure was nowhere else but in that field. The old man spoke with such confidence and authority that the children went back to the “treasure site” reinvigorated, to conduct a fresh search.
Armed with hoes, cutlasses, rakes and other farm implements, they ploughed the earth once again. This new effort took them twelve days to complete. Yet, no dice! Now, completely miffed and exhausted, the poor children of the wealthy father dropped the farm implements, sank to the ground and began to weep.
Oh, how they ululated! And what a sight they made. Twenty grown men weeping their heads off in the centre of more than fifty acres of freshly ploughed land.
They were so lost in their emotions that they did not realize that the sky had started turning dark with rain clouds. Suddenly, the big, loud, slow grumbling rumble of thunder sounded in their ears. A few minutes later, scattered fat drops of tears from the sky dropped to the earth. Some of the sparse sprinkles fell on the children.
Suddenly, the eldest child, a man of sixty years, called Niniola jumped up and hushed up his brothers.
“Listen to me,” Nini shouted and looked up into the heavenlies with arms outstretched. His brothers were surprised at his rather dramatic pose. But they became even more startled when the man started laughing –first gently, silently and then vigorously and uproariously. Nini’s brothers quickly scrambled to their feet, worried about their brother’s sanity. Poor chap, they thought, the disappointment had surely “turned his head.”
Their fears became reinforced when Niniola, with quite a rapturous look on his face declared:
“My people, the treasure is here, I see papa’s treasure. It is here! It is here! “Where is it?” the other brothers shouted in unison, feeling the stirring of hope once again in their bosoms.
Our father’s treasure, his gold, his money, everything is all around us, here in this field now, and in other fields.”
“But show us now, now. We’ve suffered enough. No need to waste further time,” chorused his brothers.
“If I show you how to get it, will you believe me, will you obey? “We all will!” shouted his siblings. So Niniola showed them. He told them to plant the vast acres with seeds and tubers. And mercifully, they obeyed. And the Lord blessed their efforts and they became richer than their father, richer than they could ever have imagined, certainly more than they could have been, if they had been content with sharing amongst themselves, their inheritance.
Now let’s get back to the story of Rotimi Williams and his quarrelling children. Can you now begin to see that the great lawyer in not leaving a Will, actually left a Will?
Timi, the genius lawyer was neither a fool nor an irresponsible father. I assure you. Can you see the old man’s will now? I see it. And I tell you its contents. The legend reads:
“Ladi, Kayode, Folarin, Tokunbo, my dear children.
I leave you all this vast estate and stupendous wealth.
If I share it equally, one or two of you will complain and contest my Will. If I do not share equally, one or two will complain and contest my Will.
But if I leave it for you to share among yourselves, the whole world will see and judge by the way you handle my wealth whether you are indeed children worthy of coming from my loins or not. If you handle it well, the glory is yours.
If you handle it badly, the shame is yours.
Remember I am no longer in the flesh. Material wealth does not count with me any more.
“Alagemo ti bi omo e na”
“Ai mojo ku sowo e.”
Related links: www.learnedsquib.wordpress.com
www.squibcoverstory.wordpress.com
www.squibdiary.wordpress.com
www.squiblogg.blogspot.com
THE LEARNED SQUIB
We have, I believe come to the end of Act One in the increasingly fascinating play/soap opera called “TIMI’S (Unseen) WILL. Don’t tell me you’ve not been watching this opera. Gosh! Have you been spending all your time on lesser entertainment such as BB2 – where much of what you get to see is muck: - mock home, mock home-making, mock love, mock lovemaking and real mammary gland exposure! For those who may not know, Timi’s (Unseen) Will hereinafter referred to as TUW is just about four very grown up children of a famous Nigerian lawyer who died in 2005. These children, all boys, sorry, all men are warring amongst themselves over the control and I dare say, enjoyment of their late father’s vast estate.
So far, it is an even, balanced contest – it is a two against two thing. That’s an indication of how decent and fair minded children from a greatly cultured family background behave even when at war. Two against two is neat, nice and meet.
Now let me give some flesh to the identities of the dramatis persona.
The paterfamilias of the four fighting children is none other than Frederick Rotimi Alade Williams S.A.N a.k.a Timi the Law. Timi’s first son is Ladi a.k.a “Ladi Gentleman” (in his younolarger days). The second is Kayode, a prosperous land tiller. The third is Folarin, a lawyer and business man. The last but not the least or darkest is Tokunbo, a lawyer too and a Senior Advocate like his first brother – Ladi.
Further information about the dispute is that the two older brothers (Ladi and Kayode) are more or less together while the younger two, Folarin and Tokunbo form the opposing force. To put it in sharper relief, we have a tag-team ‘A’ LADIKAY fighting tag-team ‘B’ to wit FOLATOKS.
So far, the most intriguing aspect of the plot of the play is the absence of F.R.A Williams’ Will. That fact to many people seems quite odd indeed. How can it be that a lawyer of F.R.A Williams’ status would not leave behind a Will to govern the administration and appropriation of his vast estate?
This is the question millions of Nigerians have been asking one another since the opera debuted. Of course, everybody knows Rotimi Williams was not just any lawyer. He was the best, the very best, not only in Nigeria, but in all of Africa. So why should such a man leave a vast financial empire without a will?
Could his action stem from ignorance? Could it be an oversight? Could it be from wickedness? Could it be from indifference? I suspect and there are a few others who suspect that, the extraordinary F.R.A actually wrote and left a will, but in an extra-ordinary manner. Such a will cannot be seen with the naked eyes, or held with bare fingers. It is only sages and deep spiritualists that can see F.R.A Williams Will. Are you puzzled? If so, then this story will help.
Once upon a time a wealthy trader died. Before he died, he gathered his twenty children around his bed and prayed for them. Days before his transition he kept telling his children never to depend on his wealth or other inheritance but to struggle and really make their own names and fortunes. Just before he died, he indicated where he kept his fortunes – a very large, uncultivated farmland of several acres.
Said the old man, - “All my jewelry, my sacks of money are somewhere there.”
What news this was in the ears of the children – they knew never knew how really wealthy their father was! After burying the old man, the children could hardly wait to discover their fortune.
Three days after their old man was committed to mother earth, the troop rushed to the farmland. They searched diligently through the bush, combed all the undergrowth but drew blank. The failure to find the bags of treasure their father hid on the farmland saddened and puzzled the trader’s children. So they embarked on another search, this time around, more thoroughly and very slowly. Alas, after three days of meticulous search, they discovered nothing more precious than a dozen eggs of a partridge, ten snails and the shed skin of an old snake.
Feeling very sad indeed, the troop decided to seek from an elder, counsel about their predicament. The elder asked them to dig up the farmland; “somewhere on the farm lies your father’s treasure.” It took the twenty children three whole weeks to complete their labour. It was indeed a backbreaking job. But once again, it yielded no treasure.
Thoroughly beaten by now, the embittered and dispirited children trooped back to the house of the elder who had instructed them to dig up the farmland and told him of their misfortune. The elder however insisted that their father’s treasure was nowhere else but in that field. The old man spoke with such confidence and authority that the children went back to the “treasure site” reinvigorated, to conduct a fresh search.
Armed with hoes, cutlasses, rakes and other farm implements, they ploughed the earth once again. This new effort took them twelve days to complete. Yet, no dice! Now, completely miffed and exhausted, the poor children of the wealthy father dropped the farm implements, sank to the ground and began to weep.
Oh, how they ululated! And what a sight they made. Twenty grown men weeping their heads off in the centre of more than fifty acres of freshly ploughed land.
They were so lost in their emotions that they did not realize that the sky had started turning dark with rain clouds. Suddenly, the big, loud, slow grumbling rumble of thunder sounded in their ears. A few minutes later, scattered fat drops of tears from the sky dropped to the earth. Some of the sparse sprinkles fell on the children.
Suddenly, the eldest child, a man of sixty years, called Niniola jumped up and hushed up his brothers.
“Listen to me,” Nini shouted and looked up into the heavenlies with arms outstretched. His brothers were surprised at his rather dramatic pose. But they became even more startled when the man started laughing –first gently, silently and then vigorously and uproariously. Nini’s brothers quickly scrambled to their feet, worried about their brother’s sanity. Poor chap, they thought, the disappointment had surely “turned his head.”
Their fears became reinforced when Niniola, with quite a rapturous look on his face declared:
“My people, the treasure is here, I see papa’s treasure. It is here! It is here! “Where is it?” the other brothers shouted in unison, feeling the stirring of hope once again in their bosoms.
Our father’s treasure, his gold, his money, everything is all around us, here in this field now, and in other fields.”
“But show us now, now. We’ve suffered enough. No need to waste further time,” chorused his brothers.
“If I show you how to get it, will you believe me, will you obey? “We all will!” shouted his siblings. So Niniola showed them. He told them to plant the vast acres with seeds and tubers. And mercifully, they obeyed. And the Lord blessed their efforts and they became richer than their father, richer than they could ever have imagined, certainly more than they could have been, if they had been content with sharing amongst themselves, their inheritance.
Now let’s get back to the story of Rotimi Williams and his quarrelling children. Can you now begin to see that the great lawyer in not leaving a Will, actually left a Will?
Timi, the genius lawyer was neither a fool nor an irresponsible father. I assure you. Can you see the old man’s will now? I see it. And I tell you its contents. The legend reads:
“Ladi, Kayode, Folarin, Tokunbo, my dear children.
I leave you all this vast estate and stupendous wealth.
If I share it equally, one or two of you will complain and contest my Will. If I do not share equally, one or two will complain and contest my Will.
But if I leave it for you to share among yourselves, the whole world will see and judge by the way you handle my wealth whether you are indeed children worthy of coming from my loins or not. If you handle it well, the glory is yours.
If you handle it badly, the shame is yours.
Remember I am no longer in the flesh. Material wealth does not count with me any more.
“Alagemo ti bi omo e na”
“Ai mojo ku sowo e.”
Related links: www.learnedsquib.wordpress.com
www.squibcoverstory.wordpress.com
www.squibdiary.wordpress.com
www.squiblogg.blogspot.com
'Files of Sorrow' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 8 No 4 15th October 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
Today is 17th October 2007. In two days time, it’ll be the whole of thirty-one days that the Lagos Judiciary marked the commencement of 2007/2008 New Legal Year.
On the new Legal Year Day, beautiful sermons and powerful prayers were rendered during the worship sessions. Admonitions perched on the back of exhortations all to the end that the judiciary should perform much better than it did last year.
Honourable Justice Augustine Adetula Alabi the Chief Judge of state, the “Oga pata-pata” of the judiciary, whom I will call the commander-in-chief of the judicial forces of the state gave a soul-stirring performance on that day; at least on television.
With my two eyes, I watched the Judicial Augustus, wax eloquent before journalists and their invariable cameras and recorders about the resolve of the judiciary to do its very best in the new legal year.
According to the Augustus, Lagos State judges have no reason to complain about their conditions of service given the munificence of the state government in that direction. Said the Augustus, if any judge demands bribe or any such thing, then such a judge is “an armed robber.”
After watching and listening to the emphatically patriotic effusions of the learned Chief Judge, stars danced in my head; My head “swelled.” On that day, the Chief Judge vividly presented the organization he leads as one earnestly ready and invigorated to work and excel.
Alas, talk is cheap! Nearly thirty days after 17th September 2007, much of the action in the Lagos State Judiciary (at least as far as lawyers and litigants are concerned) has been inaction.
In the two main judicial divisions {Lagos (Igbosere) and Ikeja}, one can without any fear of contradiction say that since September 18 2007, not up to 50% of the judges have had any impressive, consistent court sessions.
When you ask the reason for this tragic redundancy, you get interesting answers as follows:
(a) “Ah, it is due to the present renovation of the various court rooms.”
(b) “Ah, it is because of the re-posting of the judges from their divisions.”
(c) “Ah, it is because the Chief Judge is yet to re-assign the files of the numerous fresh and non part-heard cases to new judges.”
Of all the three wicked reasons given above, the one that intrigues me the most is the last.
How numerous are the files of fresh and non part-heard cases? Quite numerous I can tell you. Let me supply some statistics for just about 11 judges who returned case files to the registry for re-assignment to some other judges, upon their reposting.
Here goes:-
Name of Honourable Judges:
No of files returned to the registry:
Atilade J.
-
707
Idowu J.
-
402
Adefope-Okojie J.
-
371
Pedro J.
-
256
Oyekan-Abdullai J.
-
234
Okunnu J.
-
147
Coker J.
-
82
Nwaka J.
-
71
Kayode Ogunmekan J.
-
46
Taiwo J.
-
40
Gbajabiamila J.
-
30
Total
-
2,386
Even anti-mathematics brains will understand that we are talking about a little less than two thousand, five hundred files here. These,from just eleven judges in a judiciary of forty-six judges.
Yet as at press time, none of these files has been re-assigned. In fact, there can’t be less than five to seven thousand files ‘rotting away’ in the Record Section of the Lagos Judiciary, waiting, crying; indeed shouting and screaming for reactivation by way of re-assignment.
Of course there has been no re-assignment. Nobody knows the reasons why. At any rate, I think that as usual, the Chief Judge and his lieutenants consider it “infradig” to condescend to the point of furnishing information to the bar about the paralysis.
Instead, lawyers are advised by mandarins of the Registry to “write to the C.J or file something new.” Such actions the mandarins assure, would quicken or wake the Chief Judge or his administrative judges to re-assign the affected files.
What odious suggestions! So the Chief Judge and his administrative judges need to be jump started to crank alive? I shudder! How did we ever come to such a sorry pass that administrators of justice have to be specially appeased or jump started to get them to work?
Just imagine the stress and distress, the failure, neglect and refusal of the authorities of the Lagos Judiciary to re-assign case files to judges for more than four weeks now have caused the good people of Lagos State in particular and Nigeria in general! I implore the NBA to intervene in this matter as a matter of urgency. Or do we need to jump start the bar too to act! Oh, Nigeria.
THE LEARNED SQUIB
Today is 17th October 2007. In two days time, it’ll be the whole of thirty-one days that the Lagos Judiciary marked the commencement of 2007/2008 New Legal Year.
On the new Legal Year Day, beautiful sermons and powerful prayers were rendered during the worship sessions. Admonitions perched on the back of exhortations all to the end that the judiciary should perform much better than it did last year.
Honourable Justice Augustine Adetula Alabi the Chief Judge of state, the “Oga pata-pata” of the judiciary, whom I will call the commander-in-chief of the judicial forces of the state gave a soul-stirring performance on that day; at least on television.
With my two eyes, I watched the Judicial Augustus, wax eloquent before journalists and their invariable cameras and recorders about the resolve of the judiciary to do its very best in the new legal year.
According to the Augustus, Lagos State judges have no reason to complain about their conditions of service given the munificence of the state government in that direction. Said the Augustus, if any judge demands bribe or any such thing, then such a judge is “an armed robber.”
After watching and listening to the emphatically patriotic effusions of the learned Chief Judge, stars danced in my head; My head “swelled.” On that day, the Chief Judge vividly presented the organization he leads as one earnestly ready and invigorated to work and excel.
Alas, talk is cheap! Nearly thirty days after 17th September 2007, much of the action in the Lagos State Judiciary (at least as far as lawyers and litigants are concerned) has been inaction.
In the two main judicial divisions {Lagos (Igbosere) and Ikeja}, one can without any fear of contradiction say that since September 18 2007, not up to 50% of the judges have had any impressive, consistent court sessions.
When you ask the reason for this tragic redundancy, you get interesting answers as follows:
(a) “Ah, it is due to the present renovation of the various court rooms.”
(b) “Ah, it is because of the re-posting of the judges from their divisions.”
(c) “Ah, it is because the Chief Judge is yet to re-assign the files of the numerous fresh and non part-heard cases to new judges.”
Of all the three wicked reasons given above, the one that intrigues me the most is the last.
How numerous are the files of fresh and non part-heard cases? Quite numerous I can tell you. Let me supply some statistics for just about 11 judges who returned case files to the registry for re-assignment to some other judges, upon their reposting.
Here goes:-
Name of Honourable Judges:
No of files returned to the registry:
Atilade J.
-
707
Idowu J.
-
402
Adefope-Okojie J.
-
371
Pedro J.
-
256
Oyekan-Abdullai J.
-
234
Okunnu J.
-
147
Coker J.
-
82
Nwaka J.
-
71
Kayode Ogunmekan J.
-
46
Taiwo J.
-
40
Gbajabiamila J.
-
30
Total
-
2,386
Even anti-mathematics brains will understand that we are talking about a little less than two thousand, five hundred files here. These,from just eleven judges in a judiciary of forty-six judges.
Yet as at press time, none of these files has been re-assigned. In fact, there can’t be less than five to seven thousand files ‘rotting away’ in the Record Section of the Lagos Judiciary, waiting, crying; indeed shouting and screaming for reactivation by way of re-assignment.
Of course there has been no re-assignment. Nobody knows the reasons why. At any rate, I think that as usual, the Chief Judge and his lieutenants consider it “infradig” to condescend to the point of furnishing information to the bar about the paralysis.
Instead, lawyers are advised by mandarins of the Registry to “write to the C.J or file something new.” Such actions the mandarins assure, would quicken or wake the Chief Judge or his administrative judges to re-assign the affected files.
What odious suggestions! So the Chief Judge and his administrative judges need to be jump started to crank alive? I shudder! How did we ever come to such a sorry pass that administrators of justice have to be specially appeased or jump started to get them to work?
Just imagine the stress and distress, the failure, neglect and refusal of the authorities of the Lagos Judiciary to re-assign case files to judges for more than four weeks now have caused the good people of Lagos State in particular and Nigeria in general! I implore the NBA to intervene in this matter as a matter of urgency. Or do we need to jump start the bar too to act! Oh, Nigeria.
'A Few Questions For Chief Magistrate A.O. Adedayo' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 8 No 3 8th October 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
When you are the First Gecko, only few elements of the Lagos Judiciary care to exchange greetings with you in public, not to talk of holding conversations with you where the Big Brother or as it used to be, the Big Sister of the Lagos Judiciary could see you. We all know the reason why. The First Gecko is officially and unofficially Public Enemy No 1 of the Lagos Judiciary, at least in the eyes of the successive chief judges since 2001. One of the few judges or magistrates who readily welcome a discussion with the First Gecko during official hours, without looking furtively about is Chief Magistrate A.O. Adedayo. The pleasant lady who readily banters with the publisher of the “obnoxious Squib magazine” knowing fully well that the reports of the gecko’s poisonousness are grossly exaggerated.
But on a certain day in July 2007, the Chief Magistrate was not prepared to see her “outlaw” friend. Incidentally, it was the day that about 80 young ladies were arraigned before her court for a curious reason and a curious offence, namely, “indecent dressing or conducting yourself in a manner likely to cause the breach of the peace.” Magistrate A.O. Adedayo’s court was a bedlam that day. True.
The unusually large numbers of accused persons was itself overwhelming. But what heightened the uproar was the certainly unusual bail condition that sureties must deposit the bail bond of N20,000.00 with the court before accused could be released.
From his prime observatory, the First Gecko heard and saw the cacophonous market the court of Chief Magistrate A. O Adebayo turned to especially after her wonderful landmark ruling. Really, a lot of water passed under the bridge that day as some people including a crop of legal practitioners infamously known as “charge and bail” lawyers reaped mightily from the woes of the unfortunate accused persons. Some concerned, if rather overzealous lady lawyers reported certain sordid acts involving officials of the court that unforgettable afternoon to the First Gecko, acts they claimed they witnessed as scores of accused persons who managed to pay the prosecutor various amounts of money (N3000.00, N5,0000.00) had their names ticked on a list and allowed to go home while those who couldn’t were taken to Area ‘F’ Police Station for detention.
The First Gecko was cool about this horrendous report. So he went into the court to enquire from his friend. Well, to his surprise, the friend would not see him.
At least, not on that day, so said Registrar of the court, the honourable and venerable official popularly called “Alhaji.” After the glorious day, there have been debates on the propriety and legality of the landmark ruling of Chief Magistrate A. O Adebayo that sureties of the accused persons in the “INDECENT DRESSING” case saga should pay in the bond money. The Magistrate herself reportedly defended herself and quite robustly too, I was told saying she acted well within her powers as magistrate.
Somehow, the First Gecko have this irresistible itch to ask his friend the following questions:
{a} Before July 2007, how many times have you ever ordered sureties to pay in bond money?
{b} After July 2007 how many times have you ordered sureties to pay in bond money?
{c} If the answer tot either ‘a’ or ‘b’ above is the negative, ”what made the July 2007 INDECENT DRESSING CASE different and special?
Juts a few questions, you see, from one friend to another.
THE LEARNED SQUIB
When you are the First Gecko, only few elements of the Lagos Judiciary care to exchange greetings with you in public, not to talk of holding conversations with you where the Big Brother or as it used to be, the Big Sister of the Lagos Judiciary could see you. We all know the reason why. The First Gecko is officially and unofficially Public Enemy No 1 of the Lagos Judiciary, at least in the eyes of the successive chief judges since 2001. One of the few judges or magistrates who readily welcome a discussion with the First Gecko during official hours, without looking furtively about is Chief Magistrate A.O. Adedayo. The pleasant lady who readily banters with the publisher of the “obnoxious Squib magazine” knowing fully well that the reports of the gecko’s poisonousness are grossly exaggerated.
But on a certain day in July 2007, the Chief Magistrate was not prepared to see her “outlaw” friend. Incidentally, it was the day that about 80 young ladies were arraigned before her court for a curious reason and a curious offence, namely, “indecent dressing or conducting yourself in a manner likely to cause the breach of the peace.” Magistrate A.O. Adedayo’s court was a bedlam that day. True.
The unusually large numbers of accused persons was itself overwhelming. But what heightened the uproar was the certainly unusual bail condition that sureties must deposit the bail bond of N20,000.00 with the court before accused could be released.
From his prime observatory, the First Gecko heard and saw the cacophonous market the court of Chief Magistrate A. O Adebayo turned to especially after her wonderful landmark ruling. Really, a lot of water passed under the bridge that day as some people including a crop of legal practitioners infamously known as “charge and bail” lawyers reaped mightily from the woes of the unfortunate accused persons. Some concerned, if rather overzealous lady lawyers reported certain sordid acts involving officials of the court that unforgettable afternoon to the First Gecko, acts they claimed they witnessed as scores of accused persons who managed to pay the prosecutor various amounts of money (N3000.00, N5,0000.00) had their names ticked on a list and allowed to go home while those who couldn’t were taken to Area ‘F’ Police Station for detention.
The First Gecko was cool about this horrendous report. So he went into the court to enquire from his friend. Well, to his surprise, the friend would not see him.
At least, not on that day, so said Registrar of the court, the honourable and venerable official popularly called “Alhaji.” After the glorious day, there have been debates on the propriety and legality of the landmark ruling of Chief Magistrate A. O Adebayo that sureties of the accused persons in the “INDECENT DRESSING” case saga should pay in the bond money. The Magistrate herself reportedly defended herself and quite robustly too, I was told saying she acted well within her powers as magistrate.
Somehow, the First Gecko have this irresistible itch to ask his friend the following questions:
{a} Before July 2007, how many times have you ever ordered sureties to pay in bond money?
{b} After July 2007 how many times have you ordered sureties to pay in bond money?
{c} If the answer tot either ‘a’ or ‘b’ above is the negative, ”what made the July 2007 INDECENT DRESSING CASE different and special?
Juts a few questions, you see, from one friend to another.
'Agbako-Bar' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 8 No 1 24th September 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
The Learned Squib by Adesina Ogunlana www.squibanticorruption.com.
AGBAKO-BAR
Were you at Ilorin? In the last week of August 2007? For the lawyers’ conference? Oh, you were not there? My, my, you were not there! Really?
I got you there. You see, if you missed the 2007 Nigerian Bar Association (NBA) Conference, you were really lucky. Because, all what you missed either by the whiskers or by a mile was “plenty, plenty nonsense,” or as Fela would put it, “babanla nonsense.”
Soon after surviving the Ilorin conference, I came across reports in some newspapers claiming that the said ‘suffer, suffer’ conference was “the best ever.” I couldn’t help but grimace, even sorrow at such gross mendacity. If, the Ilorin conference was the best ever NBA conference then be assured that the snail is the fastest animal in the world.
I know many ‘Squibbers’ have been on the look out for our reports of the Ilorin conference. But since in our candid opinion it was nothing to write home about, why bother to write it? Take it from me, the Ilorin conference was a disaster, with most participants seriously shortchanged.
Sympathisers of the administration of Olisa ‘The Stranger Who Became King’ Agbakoba have played down the awful mess of insufficient accommodation for conferees and dearth of conference materials, as if they were mere trifles while playing up the attendance of President Umaru Yar’Adua at the opening session of the conference as a big deal.
But to me, Yar’Adua’s presence was more of a minus than a plus for the Nigerian Bar Association. Of course, some individuals gained by the president’s attendance but certainly not the NBA. I believe the NBA contradicted itself by honouring Yar’Adua with an invitation to her conference. Of course, the nation’s president did not need to be at the conference and was he not the chief beneficiary of an election that the NBA had strongly dismissed as unacceptable and actually ordered a boycott on?
Of course, the president’s presence meant that the opening ceremony was turned into a carnival-rally of his political party, the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP). At the event, party faithfuls took over the venue and at least half of the lawyers present were shut out of the hall. What a waste of time!
The acute shortage of decent accommodation forced many conferees to sleep in untoward places like cars, balconies and lounges of hotels. Of course, after a day or two of humiliating non-shelter, many conferees headed back home. As the Yoruba aptly put it: “Bi iwaju o ba se lo, eyin a sa se lo” (when a journey turns awry, at least the traveler can beat a retreat).
It was a sad little smile that played on my lips when I heard Agbakoba claim that the NBA was only expecting about three or four thousand conferees to turn up at the Ilorin conference because “it was not an election year.”
What a lame excuse! If true, then it is proof of a poor sense of imagination and judgment. Any veteran bar person would know that Ilorin 2007 would attract quite a huge turn-out of lawyers simply by the sheer fact of her advantageous geographical location, being very near the densely populated (lawyer wise) southwestern and eastern parts of the country.
Of course, ab initio, Ilorin should not have been selected to host the conference. Objective persons would know that the two other bidders for the hosting of the conference, Ikeja and Kaduna, are better in terms of accommodation capacity than Ilorin but the NBA leadership gave the hosting chance to Ilorin, for obvious selfish reasons – to please Lawal Rabana, the General Secretary of the Association who hails from Ilorin.
Another terrible fact of the Ilorin conference was the absence of conference materials. Up till now, only a few conferees have a complete conference pack of the materials. What the majority managed to get were empty conference bags, of a high quality, but empty nonetheless.
The struggle to get conference materials was tough, rough, and undignifying for many as they had to engage in rugby like contests, kicking, shoving, grunting, pushing and elbowing one another in frantic struggles to lay hands on the papers.
It is on record that Nurudeen Ogbara Esq., a staunch Agbakobaist in the 2006 elections who witnessed one of the many ugly struggles for conference materials chased away a Squib photographer from recording the “sad scramble” on film. According to Ogbara, he acted in defence of the NBA’s image. Wonderful! Things were never this bad at NBA conferences; that conferees had to fight to get conference materials.
Some noises have also been made of the provision of “free lunches” to conferees at the conference. What free lunches? Registered conferees remember only too well that they paid no less than five thousand naira each; more than the usual conference fees they normally pay. And it is a fact that not all conferees got to eat of Agbakoba’s “free lunch.” There is no free lunch anywhere, least of all in the Agbako-bar.
I don’t want to say anything much about the engagement of the “Events Manager” for the conference other than; victims of the Ilorin conference have him or her to thank for at least 70% of their misery. That Events Manager and his engagers should be probed.
But for the assistance of the Local Organising Committee of the Ilorin branch which was at first spurned, the situation would have been much worse.
In spite of the great disappointment that Ilorin turned out to be, I beg to report that the ‘Tigers,’ one of the few large cohesive groups there, managed to have fun. Their party on the 30th August 2007 was one of the wonders of the conference. The live band that performed at the party drove away the rheumatism of some aging tigers and tigresses with their Ilorin flavoured “dadakuwada” music which compelled gyrations from merry Tigers as well as, wait for this, naira spraying.
In all, Ilorin will remain, at least for me, another example of how the inadequacies of know-it-all sophisticates are exposed in the cold and harsh terrain of practical realities.
I ask, where are the re-branders of this world?
One hopes NBA Conference 2008 will not be a repeat of the Ilorin 2007 fiasco. Amen.
Please see www.squiblogg.blogspot.com for the week’s judiciary gist.
(Look out for latest Learned Squib article and diary this week).
THE LEARNED SQUIB
The Learned Squib by Adesina Ogunlana www.squibanticorruption.com.
AGBAKO-BAR
Were you at Ilorin? In the last week of August 2007? For the lawyers’ conference? Oh, you were not there? My, my, you were not there! Really?
I got you there. You see, if you missed the 2007 Nigerian Bar Association (NBA) Conference, you were really lucky. Because, all what you missed either by the whiskers or by a mile was “plenty, plenty nonsense,” or as Fela would put it, “babanla nonsense.”
Soon after surviving the Ilorin conference, I came across reports in some newspapers claiming that the said ‘suffer, suffer’ conference was “the best ever.” I couldn’t help but grimace, even sorrow at such gross mendacity. If, the Ilorin conference was the best ever NBA conference then be assured that the snail is the fastest animal in the world.
I know many ‘Squibbers’ have been on the look out for our reports of the Ilorin conference. But since in our candid opinion it was nothing to write home about, why bother to write it? Take it from me, the Ilorin conference was a disaster, with most participants seriously shortchanged.
Sympathisers of the administration of Olisa ‘The Stranger Who Became King’ Agbakoba have played down the awful mess of insufficient accommodation for conferees and dearth of conference materials, as if they were mere trifles while playing up the attendance of President Umaru Yar’Adua at the opening session of the conference as a big deal.
But to me, Yar’Adua’s presence was more of a minus than a plus for the Nigerian Bar Association. Of course, some individuals gained by the president’s attendance but certainly not the NBA. I believe the NBA contradicted itself by honouring Yar’Adua with an invitation to her conference. Of course, the nation’s president did not need to be at the conference and was he not the chief beneficiary of an election that the NBA had strongly dismissed as unacceptable and actually ordered a boycott on?
Of course, the president’s presence meant that the opening ceremony was turned into a carnival-rally of his political party, the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP). At the event, party faithfuls took over the venue and at least half of the lawyers present were shut out of the hall. What a waste of time!
The acute shortage of decent accommodation forced many conferees to sleep in untoward places like cars, balconies and lounges of hotels. Of course, after a day or two of humiliating non-shelter, many conferees headed back home. As the Yoruba aptly put it: “Bi iwaju o ba se lo, eyin a sa se lo” (when a journey turns awry, at least the traveler can beat a retreat).
It was a sad little smile that played on my lips when I heard Agbakoba claim that the NBA was only expecting about three or four thousand conferees to turn up at the Ilorin conference because “it was not an election year.”
What a lame excuse! If true, then it is proof of a poor sense of imagination and judgment. Any veteran bar person would know that Ilorin 2007 would attract quite a huge turn-out of lawyers simply by the sheer fact of her advantageous geographical location, being very near the densely populated (lawyer wise) southwestern and eastern parts of the country.
Of course, ab initio, Ilorin should not have been selected to host the conference. Objective persons would know that the two other bidders for the hosting of the conference, Ikeja and Kaduna, are better in terms of accommodation capacity than Ilorin but the NBA leadership gave the hosting chance to Ilorin, for obvious selfish reasons – to please Lawal Rabana, the General Secretary of the Association who hails from Ilorin.
Another terrible fact of the Ilorin conference was the absence of conference materials. Up till now, only a few conferees have a complete conference pack of the materials. What the majority managed to get were empty conference bags, of a high quality, but empty nonetheless.
The struggle to get conference materials was tough, rough, and undignifying for many as they had to engage in rugby like contests, kicking, shoving, grunting, pushing and elbowing one another in frantic struggles to lay hands on the papers.
It is on record that Nurudeen Ogbara Esq., a staunch Agbakobaist in the 2006 elections who witnessed one of the many ugly struggles for conference materials chased away a Squib photographer from recording the “sad scramble” on film. According to Ogbara, he acted in defence of the NBA’s image. Wonderful! Things were never this bad at NBA conferences; that conferees had to fight to get conference materials.
Some noises have also been made of the provision of “free lunches” to conferees at the conference. What free lunches? Registered conferees remember only too well that they paid no less than five thousand naira each; more than the usual conference fees they normally pay. And it is a fact that not all conferees got to eat of Agbakoba’s “free lunch.” There is no free lunch anywhere, least of all in the Agbako-bar.
I don’t want to say anything much about the engagement of the “Events Manager” for the conference other than; victims of the Ilorin conference have him or her to thank for at least 70% of their misery. That Events Manager and his engagers should be probed.
But for the assistance of the Local Organising Committee of the Ilorin branch which was at first spurned, the situation would have been much worse.
In spite of the great disappointment that Ilorin turned out to be, I beg to report that the ‘Tigers,’ one of the few large cohesive groups there, managed to have fun. Their party on the 30th August 2007 was one of the wonders of the conference. The live band that performed at the party drove away the rheumatism of some aging tigers and tigresses with their Ilorin flavoured “dadakuwada” music which compelled gyrations from merry Tigers as well as, wait for this, naira spraying.
In all, Ilorin will remain, at least for me, another example of how the inadequacies of know-it-all sophisticates are exposed in the cold and harsh terrain of practical realities.
I ask, where are the re-branders of this world?
One hopes NBA Conference 2008 will not be a repeat of the Ilorin 2007 fiasco. Amen.
Please see www.squiblogg.blogspot.com for the week’s judiciary gist.
(Look out for latest Learned Squib article and diary this week).
'Rock Not The Boat' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 7 No 33 9th July 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
'Rock Not The Boat' by Adesina Ogunlana
Last week a respected elder of our noble profession called me aside and gave me a very good piece of advice. This is it.
Good man, rock not the boat,
Oh let her dirty cargos be,
Let it sail on, my boy,
Even if it is to ruin.
Rock not the boat,
Cause it no shaking,
Don’t even try to clean it,
Let it go on its awful ways,
Even if it is straight to the rocks.
Rock not the boat,
Let the establishment be,
Swallow the slime,
Even if it stinks and sinks
Rock not the boat.
Rock not the boat
Ask no questions, fire no shots
Let evil grow on and go on
That’s the way of the world.
That’s the way of our world,
Leave the Augean stable well alone
Rock not the boat.
Related links: www.thesquib.com
www.learnedsquib.blogspot.com
www.squiblogg.blogspot.com
www.squibcoverstory.blogspot.com
www.readerspavilion.blogspot.com
www.editorspark.blogspot.com
THE LEARNED SQUIB
'Rock Not The Boat' by Adesina Ogunlana
Last week a respected elder of our noble profession called me aside and gave me a very good piece of advice. This is it.
Good man, rock not the boat,
Oh let her dirty cargos be,
Let it sail on, my boy,
Even if it is to ruin.
Rock not the boat,
Cause it no shaking,
Don’t even try to clean it,
Let it go on its awful ways,
Even if it is straight to the rocks.
Rock not the boat,
Let the establishment be,
Swallow the slime,
Even if it stinks and sinks
Rock not the boat.
Rock not the boat
Ask no questions, fire no shots
Let evil grow on and go on
That’s the way of the world.
That’s the way of our world,
Leave the Augean stable well alone
Rock not the boat.
Related links: www.thesquib.com
www.learnedsquib.blogspot.com
www.squiblogg.blogspot.com
www.squibcoverstory.blogspot.com
www.readerspavilion.blogspot.com
www.editorspark.blogspot.com
'The Shameless Tap' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 7 No 32 2nd July 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
‘The Shameless Tap’ By Adesina Ogunlana
Almost about everything interests, even excites kids. Animals, insects, colours, sounds, trees, grasses, houses, the sky, the river, even the breeze. Little wonder then that one was susceptible to believing many cock and bull stories as a young child. For example, I was told that Nnamdi Azikwe (Zik) had the keys to the Atlantic Ocean and that the reason why the ocean had not over-run the whole world was because Azikiwe’s saintly heart never thought of unlocking the ocean depths. I was told and I verily believed that if I should eat my orange with the pips an orange tree would sprout up right at the centre of my head.
Of course I also learnt that a white man met his untimely death at the ‘foot’ of Teslim ‘Thunder’ Balogun the Nigerian soccer legend. The unfortunate man a goal-keeper so the story went was fool hardy enough enough to pick a bet with the Thunder himself that from the penalty spot, Balogun wouldn’t put the round leather past him even if he tried three times. Accordingly a date was chosen. The first shot was played by Thunder and goal-keeper caught it. Then the second kick was taken but the goal-keeper wizard also caught it. All that while, Thunder Balogun had used his right foot to take the rights. He placed the ball on the spot again and was about to take when his wife called
“Thunder, thunder,
don’t forget your left!”
When Teslim Thunder Balogun heard the call, he did not ignore it. He took heed and released a shot so ferocious that it hit the goal-keeper in the tummy, tore it open and went through the man’s back to land in the net! This incredible story swallowed completely by me. I even digested it. Remember I was but a little kid then, just as you were too, one time or the other.
Now I have a spectacular true-life story to tell but I doubt whether you will believe I am not spinning a yarn. The story is about a lawyer. Well lawyers are no Martians. Last Wednesday, the lawyer poured liquid uric acid on some grasses. There is nothing spectacular about this either. It is only natural for men to pee, even the most gorgeous hominid do this and the ‘number 2’ as well. It is also natural too for grasses to receive all manners and water, bladder-water inclusive.
On a second thought maybe my story is not all that spectacular after all. May be it’s even trifle, not worth telling.
After all, the standards have gone down considerably in the legal profession. The dogs have taken decency hostage, while morality is down the drains.
That is why a so called lawyer in broad daylight in the premises of a court could saunter to the lawn where all and sundry including chaste including chaste female magistrates could see his blackened weapon of mass destruction and poured down torrents of liquid urea on unfortunate grasses.
Amazing the barrister in question performed his open toilet with the calmness and nonchalance you only see in mating dogs. Since this specimen of a lawyer is from the Ikeja zone of the Abe-Igi Chambers of bail specialists, I will humbly plead with this constituency to counsel him on the need to meet minimum requirements of the law of decency.
The specimen in question is just about three (3) years in the Ikeja Magistrate Court Resident Lawyers Association. So he is still junior enough to be amenable to correction.
Please enough is enough. The other day it was this “bolekaja” lawyer who engaged a warder in a prolonged shouting match in the premises of the court. It is bad enough that an Abe-Igi Chambers can be carved out of the court premises. But any attempt to slide it further into the equivalence of a motor park must not be allowed.
THE LEARNED SQUIB
‘The Shameless Tap’ By Adesina Ogunlana
Almost about everything interests, even excites kids. Animals, insects, colours, sounds, trees, grasses, houses, the sky, the river, even the breeze. Little wonder then that one was susceptible to believing many cock and bull stories as a young child. For example, I was told that Nnamdi Azikwe (Zik) had the keys to the Atlantic Ocean and that the reason why the ocean had not over-run the whole world was because Azikiwe’s saintly heart never thought of unlocking the ocean depths. I was told and I verily believed that if I should eat my orange with the pips an orange tree would sprout up right at the centre of my head.
Of course I also learnt that a white man met his untimely death at the ‘foot’ of Teslim ‘Thunder’ Balogun the Nigerian soccer legend. The unfortunate man a goal-keeper so the story went was fool hardy enough enough to pick a bet with the Thunder himself that from the penalty spot, Balogun wouldn’t put the round leather past him even if he tried three times. Accordingly a date was chosen. The first shot was played by Thunder and goal-keeper caught it. Then the second kick was taken but the goal-keeper wizard also caught it. All that while, Thunder Balogun had used his right foot to take the rights. He placed the ball on the spot again and was about to take when his wife called
“Thunder, thunder,
don’t forget your left!”
When Teslim Thunder Balogun heard the call, he did not ignore it. He took heed and released a shot so ferocious that it hit the goal-keeper in the tummy, tore it open and went through the man’s back to land in the net! This incredible story swallowed completely by me. I even digested it. Remember I was but a little kid then, just as you were too, one time or the other.
Now I have a spectacular true-life story to tell but I doubt whether you will believe I am not spinning a yarn. The story is about a lawyer. Well lawyers are no Martians. Last Wednesday, the lawyer poured liquid uric acid on some grasses. There is nothing spectacular about this either. It is only natural for men to pee, even the most gorgeous hominid do this and the ‘number 2’ as well. It is also natural too for grasses to receive all manners and water, bladder-water inclusive.
On a second thought maybe my story is not all that spectacular after all. May be it’s even trifle, not worth telling.
After all, the standards have gone down considerably in the legal profession. The dogs have taken decency hostage, while morality is down the drains.
That is why a so called lawyer in broad daylight in the premises of a court could saunter to the lawn where all and sundry including chaste including chaste female magistrates could see his blackened weapon of mass destruction and poured down torrents of liquid urea on unfortunate grasses.
Amazing the barrister in question performed his open toilet with the calmness and nonchalance you only see in mating dogs. Since this specimen of a lawyer is from the Ikeja zone of the Abe-Igi Chambers of bail specialists, I will humbly plead with this constituency to counsel him on the need to meet minimum requirements of the law of decency.
The specimen in question is just about three (3) years in the Ikeja Magistrate Court Resident Lawyers Association. So he is still junior enough to be amenable to correction.
Please enough is enough. The other day it was this “bolekaja” lawyer who engaged a warder in a prolonged shouting match in the premises of the court. It is bad enough that an Abe-Igi Chambers can be carved out of the court premises. But any attempt to slide it further into the equivalence of a motor park must not be allowed.
Monday, January 14, 2008
'My Dear Atannije-General' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 7 No 24 23rd April 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
My Dear Atannije-General
THE LEARNED SQUIB
My Dear Atannije-General
'Omo Were Yen' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 7 No 23 16th April 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
If anyone sees me going about full of self importance and with my nose in the air, such must not be quick to accuse me of undue pomposity. Who I ask, will be in my shoes and remain humble and meek? How many small time lawyers have been honoured by the pinnacle of judicial authorities in their state of practice, twice in four years and in public too?
The first public honour, in fact acclamation cum exaltation was done me in 2003 by no less a judicial juggernaut than the legendary Ibitola ‘Debisi Sotuminu, the then Iku-Mama Yeye of Lagos State, I mean the Chief Judge of Lagos State.
At a public function, a special publication of the Lagos State Judiciary chronicling the achievements of the Sotuminu administration was presented. A certain page recognized Adesina Ogunlana as the “publisher of the obnoxious Squib magazine.”
Oh what great praise that was! To be accorded recognition as the publisher of an obnoxious magazine. You know after my investiture by Sotuminu C.J, the sales of the squib just soared.
After Sotuminu succumbed to the truism of the Shakesperian posit that “Life is but a stage…” came Adeyinka Fatai, who left the scene with a reputation of been rather a cheap purloiner. That one mercifully did not honour me.
After Adeyinka C.J now comes the present numero uno-Augustine Adetula Alabi C.J. very recently and at a most auspicious occasion, one of those regular Oshinbajo inspired intellectual feasts, (Minstry of Justice Workshops). Mr. Justice Alabi the honourable Chief Judgee honoured me greatly even blatantly before foes and friends alike.
This is how it happened. Professor Yemi Osinbajo, the beloved Attorney-General of Lagos State had just delivered a fifty minute address evaluating the progress made in the Tinubu administration.
The moderator of the session was the Chief Judge. The Chief Judge moderated well, very well, allowing speaker after speaker to have their say in reaction to the Osinbajo paper.
After all the officially accredited contributors had their say, the floor was thrown open to, so to say, lesser mortals.
I don’t miss such opportunities. I was the very first to raise my hand signifying an attention to speak. On the ‘high table’ were three luminaries, the Chief Judge himself, ex-chief judge of Lagos Samuel Olatunde ilori J and Professor Osinbajo S.A.N
It was Professor Osinbajo who noticed me first. The professor promptly drew the Chief Judge’s attention to my aspiration.
Upon seeing me, the Chief Judge did the unexpected-his Lordship conferred on me a very great honour by awarding me a most prestigious title in front of the movers and shaker of the Lagos Judiciary present-Judges, magistrates, States Counsel and the NBA leaders.
Upon seeing me, the honourable Chief Judge ejaculated (fortunately) into the microphone the following legend “HA! OMO WERE YEN NI”
Many who heard the honourable Chief Judge were shocked indeed perplexed that such an excellent man can think of conferring such exceeding great honour on a minnow such as my self. I myself was greatly and pleasantly surprised at such great honour. I mean who was I ? and, who were my fathers before me?
However I was even more amazed that some people were of the opinion that what the Chief Judge said was not honour but an insult and a monstrous gaffe. According to such people – OMO WERE YEN NI in English translates “OH, IT’S THAT LUNATIC”.
Although they felt so much hot under the collar on my account, I could not bring myself to share their sentiments. First of all I am not a lunatic. I didn’t dress like a lunatic that day and I had never done so or ever will. Also I didn’t speak like a lunatic and when the ‘mike’ was finally handed over to me, loud ovation greeted my humble speech. I don’t think sane men and women such as constituted the audience that day will lend a lunatic a listening ear, talk less of applauding him.
This is why I believe that the Chief Judge’s comment was not derogatory of my person in any way. For me I would have been sorely grieved if the Chief Judge had decribed me in any of the following terms. “Ah, Omo Ode Yen ni {Oh it’s that idiot), Ah, Omo ole yen ni (Oh, its that brigand), Ah omo lasan yen ni (Oh, its that good for nothing fellow).
Clearly such terms are mean and derogatory. But to be described as “Omo were yen” to me is an affectionate term. Thus I wish to use this opportunity to thank the honourable Chief for investing me with such a great honour.
I pray that just as the Squib soared to higher heigfhts after Sotuminu C.J honoured her editor-in-chief, in 2003 the magazine will experience such elevation after my March 2007 recognition by the incumbent Chief Judge.
Who is joining me to say Amen?
THE LEARNED SQUIB
If anyone sees me going about full of self importance and with my nose in the air, such must not be quick to accuse me of undue pomposity. Who I ask, will be in my shoes and remain humble and meek? How many small time lawyers have been honoured by the pinnacle of judicial authorities in their state of practice, twice in four years and in public too?
The first public honour, in fact acclamation cum exaltation was done me in 2003 by no less a judicial juggernaut than the legendary Ibitola ‘Debisi Sotuminu, the then Iku-Mama Yeye of Lagos State, I mean the Chief Judge of Lagos State.
At a public function, a special publication of the Lagos State Judiciary chronicling the achievements of the Sotuminu administration was presented. A certain page recognized Adesina Ogunlana as the “publisher of the obnoxious Squib magazine.”
Oh what great praise that was! To be accorded recognition as the publisher of an obnoxious magazine. You know after my investiture by Sotuminu C.J, the sales of the squib just soared.
After Sotuminu succumbed to the truism of the Shakesperian posit that “Life is but a stage…” came Adeyinka Fatai, who left the scene with a reputation of been rather a cheap purloiner. That one mercifully did not honour me.
After Adeyinka C.J now comes the present numero uno-Augustine Adetula Alabi C.J. very recently and at a most auspicious occasion, one of those regular Oshinbajo inspired intellectual feasts, (Minstry of Justice Workshops). Mr. Justice Alabi the honourable Chief Judgee honoured me greatly even blatantly before foes and friends alike.
This is how it happened. Professor Yemi Osinbajo, the beloved Attorney-General of Lagos State had just delivered a fifty minute address evaluating the progress made in the Tinubu administration.
The moderator of the session was the Chief Judge. The Chief Judge moderated well, very well, allowing speaker after speaker to have their say in reaction to the Osinbajo paper.
After all the officially accredited contributors had their say, the floor was thrown open to, so to say, lesser mortals.
I don’t miss such opportunities. I was the very first to raise my hand signifying an attention to speak. On the ‘high table’ were three luminaries, the Chief Judge himself, ex-chief judge of Lagos Samuel Olatunde ilori J and Professor Osinbajo S.A.N
It was Professor Osinbajo who noticed me first. The professor promptly drew the Chief Judge’s attention to my aspiration.
Upon seeing me, the Chief Judge did the unexpected-his Lordship conferred on me a very great honour by awarding me a most prestigious title in front of the movers and shaker of the Lagos Judiciary present-Judges, magistrates, States Counsel and the NBA leaders.
Upon seeing me, the honourable Chief Judge ejaculated (fortunately) into the microphone the following legend “HA! OMO WERE YEN NI”
Many who heard the honourable Chief Judge were shocked indeed perplexed that such an excellent man can think of conferring such exceeding great honour on a minnow such as my self. I myself was greatly and pleasantly surprised at such great honour. I mean who was I ? and, who were my fathers before me?
However I was even more amazed that some people were of the opinion that what the Chief Judge said was not honour but an insult and a monstrous gaffe. According to such people – OMO WERE YEN NI in English translates “OH, IT’S THAT LUNATIC”.
Although they felt so much hot under the collar on my account, I could not bring myself to share their sentiments. First of all I am not a lunatic. I didn’t dress like a lunatic that day and I had never done so or ever will. Also I didn’t speak like a lunatic and when the ‘mike’ was finally handed over to me, loud ovation greeted my humble speech. I don’t think sane men and women such as constituted the audience that day will lend a lunatic a listening ear, talk less of applauding him.
This is why I believe that the Chief Judge’s comment was not derogatory of my person in any way. For me I would have been sorely grieved if the Chief Judge had decribed me in any of the following terms. “Ah, Omo Ode Yen ni {Oh it’s that idiot), Ah, Omo ole yen ni (Oh, its that brigand), Ah omo lasan yen ni (Oh, its that good for nothing fellow).
Clearly such terms are mean and derogatory. But to be described as “Omo were yen” to me is an affectionate term. Thus I wish to use this opportunity to thank the honourable Chief for investing me with such a great honour.
I pray that just as the Squib soared to higher heigfhts after Sotuminu C.J honoured her editor-in-chief, in 2003 the magazine will experience such elevation after my March 2007 recognition by the incumbent Chief Judge.
Who is joining me to say Amen?
Saturday, January 12, 2008
'EFCC Court By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 7 No 21 12th March 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
Mr. Lawyer, make I
tell you,
You no fit deceive
me,
Me, I no know
book but commonsense
I get,
When we first saw
No be so, so mouth
Una dey make?
Una say when we
get to court
Tori go change?
Which court?
Which tori don
change now?
Make I tell you,
Tori don hard pass
Dis court dey
carry man come
Dis one na court?
Di court wey I
know
Both accused and
proseku
Na equal 50-50
chance
Efri tin depend on
how you
Play your card.
I say did court na
court so?
Court where
Accused don guilty
From day one
Court wey
prosecution go dey
fumble
Mess well, well
And yet win,
Well well
Dat one na court?
Court where
Constitution
Na mere akara
paper
Dat one na court?
Court where law
no count
Dat one na court?
Court where
accused persons
Win only by
Accident
Dat one na court?
EFCC court,
Paddyman, dat
one no be court
Abeg,
Na slaughter
house e be.
THE LEARNED SQUIB
Mr. Lawyer, make I
tell you,
You no fit deceive
me,
Me, I no know
book but commonsense
I get,
When we first saw
No be so, so mouth
Una dey make?
Una say when we
get to court
Tori go change?
Which court?
Which tori don
change now?
Make I tell you,
Tori don hard pass
Dis court dey
carry man come
Dis one na court?
Di court wey I
know
Both accused and
proseku
Na equal 50-50
chance
Efri tin depend on
how you
Play your card.
I say did court na
court so?
Court where
Accused don guilty
From day one
Court wey
prosecution go dey
fumble
Mess well, well
And yet win,
Well well
Dat one na court?
Court where
Constitution
Na mere akara
paper
Dat one na court?
Court where law
no count
Dat one na court?
Court where
accused persons
Win only by
Accident
Dat one na court?
EFCC court,
Paddyman, dat
one no be court
Abeg,
Na slaughter
house e be.
'7 Stupid Police Questions & 7 Bright Answers' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 7 No 18 19th February 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
THE LEARNED SQUIB
'Basketmouth don come again O' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 7 No 17 12th February 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
‘Basket mouth don come again o’ By Adesina Ogunlana
In the outgoing administration of General Chief Olusegun Obasanjo there are many lawyers (I suppose). However of the lot, three stand out. They are simply in a class of their own.
The first and least controversial is the Atannije-General himself, Chief Bayo Ojo SAN who in Squibese is better known nowadays as the Atannigenius-General. Avid readers of this page know that Chief Ojo has made a huge and indelible print on the discipline of jurispridence
THE LEARNED SQUIB
‘Basket mouth don come again o’ By Adesina Ogunlana
In the outgoing administration of General Chief Olusegun Obasanjo there are many lawyers (I suppose). However of the lot, three stand out. They are simply in a class of their own.
The first and least controversial is the Atannije-General himself, Chief Bayo Ojo SAN who in Squibese is better known nowadays as the Atannigenius-General. Avid readers of this page know that Chief Ojo has made a huge and indelible print on the discipline of jurispridence
'Wunmility' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 7 No 16 5th February 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
“Ise te ni kan se
to la, to fi lowo
iyen leni kan se
to fid a lapa
Gba mi olorun Oba
Ma se je ki se wa
oparun
Ma se je kola wa o
womi”
Wasiu Alabi Pasuma
(The same enterprise
that made one person
wealthy
was the same
business
that ended another
with broken limbs
save me oh God
don’t let my work
perish
don’t let my wealth
be ruined.”
About three years ago, popular multi talented musician Gbenga Adeboye a.k.a Funwontan went the way of all flesh and he was mourned deeply by the art community. One of the dirges sung for him, by another popular musician Wasiu Alabi a.k.a Pasuma, a fuji music act had the quoted lyrics above.
But why at this point in time does my mind go to the truly thought provoking lines of Pasuma? It was because of a certain young man, a Nigerian, alas now late, called Iwuchukwu Amara Tochi. And, young, well not so young woman, a Nigerian, Taiwo Hassanat Akinwande, simply and popularly known as Wunmi.
You see, these two people shared a lot in common, yet they ended up differently. Firstly, both were Nigerians. Secondly, they were both entertainers. Tochi was a footballer, while Wunmi is an actress. Thirdly, both were mules, which in indelicate language means they were hard drug couriers. Fourthly, both mules were apprehended by security agents at Airports and their merchandise; Tochi’s – diamorphine; Wunmi’s – cocaine, were down loaded from them. Fifthly, both were tried by courts of law. Sixthly, both were convicted of committing very serious offences.
Alas, at least for Tochi, that’s where the similarities ended for these two colleagues. Their ways parted at the juncture of sentencing and Wasiu Alabi’s lamentation began to make very direct and hard meaning.
The reason is simple. After receiving her sentence, Wunmi’s relatives, sympathizers and well wishers burst out in paeans to God, extremely joyous and ecstatic they were. And you can’t blame them; what the mule received for her heinous offence was a mere rub on the rump – a term of three years imprisonment or payment of a fine of one million naira! Wunmi (and who says actresses are dumb) is now very safely and happily at home. In fact her profile has risen tremendously. After all, only an anointed and chosen one of the Deities will go to the Lair of the Tiger and come back alive and unscathed the way she did.
In the next few months, Wunmi who obviously wept and acted her way to easy freedom, in pure professional style, will be conferred with chieftaincy titles such as the Moyege of Agege and the Otolorin of Ilorin. Naturally she will land more roles and command high fees in films for everybody loves a winner.
But what of poor Tochi? The other mule has gone truly underground. He has crossed border into the land of the spirits courtesy of unblinking Singaporean justice. In his new abode there are no garlands and they don’t confer or take chieftaincy titles. And it is certain that Tochi will not play soccer where he is now. You don’t play the beautiful game in Sheol.
Seriously, what does this tale of two mules tell us? A lot. But I will dwell only on one inescapable and sad reality – Nigeria is a country of ‘anything goes.’ Let us examine the so called trial of Lady Wunmi. What message did its conclusion send to us a people and to the outside world? To me the message is that Nigeria is a country of jokers.
A grown up woman, a supposed local TV star, with her faculties intact, for a fee loaded herself with 92 wraps of mind-twisting, insanity triggering stuff and all she got was either go to prison for three years or pay a sum of one million naira! Nigeria!
The judge who gave this judgement as far as I see has not done her job well. 92 wraps of cocaine is big, heavy stuff. Of course the courier is a determined veteran. I’ll find it very hard to believe the a first timer ‘innocenti’ will have the liver or even be entrusted by her loaders (barons) to ingest such a hefty luggage – 92 wraps of cocaine.
Then what’s the market value of 92 wraps of Grade A narcotics like cocaine? Certainly not a trashy million naira or put it in international scope, just about nine thousand dollars! Thus in the first instance, there ought not to be an alternative to a term of imprisonment that ought to be stiff, and where such an avenue opens, a reasonable tribunal cannot order less than fifteen million naira to be paid in fines by the convict.
This judge who succumbed to Wunmi’s acted up court room humility and despair which I now dub and donate to the English Language, at the Nigerian tribe of it as WUNMILITY (feigned acute distress accompanied by extensive lachrymal performance and display by a caught-by-the-wrist criminal in a court of law in order to gain a lenient sentence) should have realized that the mule before her in the dock was a professional thespian and should not have been moved by those “Oh-I-am-done-for” tears and ululations of Wunmi.
The judge should also have realized that Wunmi went on the voyage deliberately and with only one purpose in mind – to get rich, very rich, quick. Wunmi certainly knew she was carrying hard drugs and she did not establish any compelling reason for her dastard action than “The devil misled me.”
This curiously lenient sentence has not done the image of the judiciary and the country at large any good. As far as many people are concerned, the trial judge has been ‘settled’ or ‘approached’ to ‘deal gently’ with some people’s ‘beloved daughter.’ What a shame. How do you take a country like Nigeria serious when enforcers of the law such as judges treat big-time criminals with kid-gloves, even when the applicable laws dictate otherwise.
If another drug carrier appears before the judge who succumbed to Wunmility, would this judge have any moral right to refrain from following the shocking precedent in Wunmi’s case?
THE LEARNED SQUIB
“Ise te ni kan se
to la, to fi lowo
iyen leni kan se
to fid a lapa
Gba mi olorun Oba
Ma se je ki se wa
oparun
Ma se je kola wa o
womi”
Wasiu Alabi Pasuma
(The same enterprise
that made one person
wealthy
was the same
business
that ended another
with broken limbs
save me oh God
don’t let my work
perish
don’t let my wealth
be ruined.”
About three years ago, popular multi talented musician Gbenga Adeboye a.k.a Funwontan went the way of all flesh and he was mourned deeply by the art community. One of the dirges sung for him, by another popular musician Wasiu Alabi a.k.a Pasuma, a fuji music act had the quoted lyrics above.
But why at this point in time does my mind go to the truly thought provoking lines of Pasuma? It was because of a certain young man, a Nigerian, alas now late, called Iwuchukwu Amara Tochi. And, young, well not so young woman, a Nigerian, Taiwo Hassanat Akinwande, simply and popularly known as Wunmi.
You see, these two people shared a lot in common, yet they ended up differently. Firstly, both were Nigerians. Secondly, they were both entertainers. Tochi was a footballer, while Wunmi is an actress. Thirdly, both were mules, which in indelicate language means they were hard drug couriers. Fourthly, both mules were apprehended by security agents at Airports and their merchandise; Tochi’s – diamorphine; Wunmi’s – cocaine, were down loaded from them. Fifthly, both were tried by courts of law. Sixthly, both were convicted of committing very serious offences.
Alas, at least for Tochi, that’s where the similarities ended for these two colleagues. Their ways parted at the juncture of sentencing and Wasiu Alabi’s lamentation began to make very direct and hard meaning.
The reason is simple. After receiving her sentence, Wunmi’s relatives, sympathizers and well wishers burst out in paeans to God, extremely joyous and ecstatic they were. And you can’t blame them; what the mule received for her heinous offence was a mere rub on the rump – a term of three years imprisonment or payment of a fine of one million naira! Wunmi (and who says actresses are dumb) is now very safely and happily at home. In fact her profile has risen tremendously. After all, only an anointed and chosen one of the Deities will go to the Lair of the Tiger and come back alive and unscathed the way she did.
In the next few months, Wunmi who obviously wept and acted her way to easy freedom, in pure professional style, will be conferred with chieftaincy titles such as the Moyege of Agege and the Otolorin of Ilorin. Naturally she will land more roles and command high fees in films for everybody loves a winner.
But what of poor Tochi? The other mule has gone truly underground. He has crossed border into the land of the spirits courtesy of unblinking Singaporean justice. In his new abode there are no garlands and they don’t confer or take chieftaincy titles. And it is certain that Tochi will not play soccer where he is now. You don’t play the beautiful game in Sheol.
Seriously, what does this tale of two mules tell us? A lot. But I will dwell only on one inescapable and sad reality – Nigeria is a country of ‘anything goes.’ Let us examine the so called trial of Lady Wunmi. What message did its conclusion send to us a people and to the outside world? To me the message is that Nigeria is a country of jokers.
A grown up woman, a supposed local TV star, with her faculties intact, for a fee loaded herself with 92 wraps of mind-twisting, insanity triggering stuff and all she got was either go to prison for three years or pay a sum of one million naira! Nigeria!
The judge who gave this judgement as far as I see has not done her job well. 92 wraps of cocaine is big, heavy stuff. Of course the courier is a determined veteran. I’ll find it very hard to believe the a first timer ‘innocenti’ will have the liver or even be entrusted by her loaders (barons) to ingest such a hefty luggage – 92 wraps of cocaine.
Then what’s the market value of 92 wraps of Grade A narcotics like cocaine? Certainly not a trashy million naira or put it in international scope, just about nine thousand dollars! Thus in the first instance, there ought not to be an alternative to a term of imprisonment that ought to be stiff, and where such an avenue opens, a reasonable tribunal cannot order less than fifteen million naira to be paid in fines by the convict.
This judge who succumbed to Wunmi’s acted up court room humility and despair which I now dub and donate to the English Language, at the Nigerian tribe of it as WUNMILITY (feigned acute distress accompanied by extensive lachrymal performance and display by a caught-by-the-wrist criminal in a court of law in order to gain a lenient sentence) should have realized that the mule before her in the dock was a professional thespian and should not have been moved by those “Oh-I-am-done-for” tears and ululations of Wunmi.
The judge should also have realized that Wunmi went on the voyage deliberately and with only one purpose in mind – to get rich, very rich, quick. Wunmi certainly knew she was carrying hard drugs and she did not establish any compelling reason for her dastard action than “The devil misled me.”
This curiously lenient sentence has not done the image of the judiciary and the country at large any good. As far as many people are concerned, the trial judge has been ‘settled’ or ‘approached’ to ‘deal gently’ with some people’s ‘beloved daughter.’ What a shame. How do you take a country like Nigeria serious when enforcers of the law such as judges treat big-time criminals with kid-gloves, even when the applicable laws dictate otherwise.
If another drug carrier appears before the judge who succumbed to Wunmility, would this judge have any moral right to refrain from following the shocking precedent in Wunmi’s case?
'Ojo(ro)ism' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 7 No 15 29th January 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
Taslim Olawale Elias, Frederick Rotimi Alade Williams, Chukwudifu Oputa, Bola Ajibola, Ademola Adetokunbo, Richard Akinjide, Adebayo Ojo.
Take a look again at all the afore-mentioned names and now answer this simple question; who of them is the greatest jurist and jurisprude? The question is so amazingly elementary that it is no wonder that none of you got it.
Let’s cut short the agony. The greatest of them all is the incumbent Atannije-General of the Federation, Chief Adebayo Ojo (Akala is not part of his name) a senior advocate of Nigeria per-excellence. Frankly Chief Bayo Ojo is miles ahead of all these other people and indeed his achievements dwarf theirs to the proportion of the sun to a candle flame.
I mean all what I have just said. Every word of it. Chief Bayo Ojo is the greatest, not only of the people I listed with him but all of Nigerian lawyers and arguably in the world. While it is true that the Eliases, Oputas, Adetokunbo Ademolas in their time were great on the bench and the Rotimi Williamses and Richard Akinjides were simply awesome in the bar, they only showed brilliance along beaten paths. But Chief Bayo Ojo is a path finder and pace setter. He has expanded the frontiers of jurisprudence and can only be dwarfed by Montesque of the Separation of Power fame.
Before the abracadabraisation of Chief Bayo Ojo from the chiefdom of the NBA presidency to the princedom of the Attanije-general’s office, what every lawyer, political scientist, sociologist, social crusader, indeed everybody knew was that there were only three superior courts of record in Nigeria.
These in order of hierarchical ascension are High Court, Court of Appeal and the Supreme Court. Thus when a party lost out at the High Court, he went on appeal (if he so desired) to the court of appeal. From there he went on to the Supreme Court. And that (Supreme Court) was, in the pre-Chief Bayo Ojo era, the last bus stop.
But Chief Bayo Ojo who I have now promoted from the post of Atannije-general to that of Attanigenius-general has shown plainly the hierarchy of Nigerian courts does not end at the Supreme Court but in the office of the nation’s Attorney-General and in effect the presidency and that the same office can hear appeals from any of the three superior courts of record.
That is why I am greatly saddened when some otherwise learned fellows refer to Chief Bayo Ojo as the nation’s new Court of Appeal or even in a more ludicrous manner talk of a certain “Court of Appeal, Bayo Ojo DIVISION.” What a diminution of the true worth and greatness of nigeria’s one and only whiz-jurist. Of course Chief Bayo Ojo whom we have correctly identified as greater than the Supreme Court must necessarily be greater than the Court of Appeal, so why should anyone classify him as a mere Court of Appeal Division.
It was Montesque who laid down the political principle of separation of powers of government splitting government powers of legislation, execution and adjudication otherwise fused in monarchies and tyrannies, into three equal, separate and distinct parts.
Under this principle, the executive is not the legislator or the adjudicator. The adjudicator either is not in the business of legislating or executing policies but its decision must be obeyed by all. Before the arrival of the Attanigenius-general, all over the world, political actors have only two options: obey or disobey. The most you could accuse spurners of court orders then was “executive recklessness” or contempt of court.
But the advent of Chief Bayo Ojo saw a truly sobering and insightful improvement, readjustment or beautiful expansion of the principle of separation of power. The Chief Bayo Ojo restatement of Montesque goes thus:
“For the achievement of peace and the effective dousing of tension in overheated polities, the Executive arm of government via the office of her Attorney-General shall have the powers and authority to VET, ASSESS, INTERPRETE AND DICTATE WHEN, HOW AND WHERE THE JUDGEMENT OF COURTS no matter how superior can be executed. This interpretation and dictation remains binding, on all persons and authorities in the polity notwithstanding anything to the contrary in any law or even the constitution.
This court is a special one to be known as the STABILITY COURT and its jurisdiction can only be self invoked and the court shall be known as EXCO-JUDICIAL ARM which is the fourth arm of government.”
I know that a genius is hardly recognized in his life-time. Chief Bayo Ojo is one such genius. HIS restatement of Montesque and firm application of the stability theory contributed immensely to the peace in Nigeria today, especially in Anambra, Oyo, Ekiti and Plateau States.
To immortalize this great jurist and political genius of our time I advise the Ilorin Branch (Chief Bayo Ojo’s local branch) of the NBA to borrow a leaf from the Tiger branch which honours the legendary Gani Fawehinmi with the annual FAWEHINMIISM lectures, a recognition and perpetuation of the values and principles of Chief Gani Fawehinmi.
The Ilorin branch can dub Chief Bayo Ojo’s atannigenius-general political thoughts and contribution OJO(RO)ISM and it will be so apt and fitting.
I beg to so move.
THE LEARNED SQUIB
Taslim Olawale Elias, Frederick Rotimi Alade Williams, Chukwudifu Oputa, Bola Ajibola, Ademola Adetokunbo, Richard Akinjide, Adebayo Ojo.
Take a look again at all the afore-mentioned names and now answer this simple question; who of them is the greatest jurist and jurisprude? The question is so amazingly elementary that it is no wonder that none of you got it.
Let’s cut short the agony. The greatest of them all is the incumbent Atannije-General of the Federation, Chief Adebayo Ojo (Akala is not part of his name) a senior advocate of Nigeria per-excellence. Frankly Chief Bayo Ojo is miles ahead of all these other people and indeed his achievements dwarf theirs to the proportion of the sun to a candle flame.
I mean all what I have just said. Every word of it. Chief Bayo Ojo is the greatest, not only of the people I listed with him but all of Nigerian lawyers and arguably in the world. While it is true that the Eliases, Oputas, Adetokunbo Ademolas in their time were great on the bench and the Rotimi Williamses and Richard Akinjides were simply awesome in the bar, they only showed brilliance along beaten paths. But Chief Bayo Ojo is a path finder and pace setter. He has expanded the frontiers of jurisprudence and can only be dwarfed by Montesque of the Separation of Power fame.
Before the abracadabraisation of Chief Bayo Ojo from the chiefdom of the NBA presidency to the princedom of the Attanije-general’s office, what every lawyer, political scientist, sociologist, social crusader, indeed everybody knew was that there were only three superior courts of record in Nigeria.
These in order of hierarchical ascension are High Court, Court of Appeal and the Supreme Court. Thus when a party lost out at the High Court, he went on appeal (if he so desired) to the court of appeal. From there he went on to the Supreme Court. And that (Supreme Court) was, in the pre-Chief Bayo Ojo era, the last bus stop.
But Chief Bayo Ojo who I have now promoted from the post of Atannije-general to that of Attanigenius-general has shown plainly the hierarchy of Nigerian courts does not end at the Supreme Court but in the office of the nation’s Attorney-General and in effect the presidency and that the same office can hear appeals from any of the three superior courts of record.
That is why I am greatly saddened when some otherwise learned fellows refer to Chief Bayo Ojo as the nation’s new Court of Appeal or even in a more ludicrous manner talk of a certain “Court of Appeal, Bayo Ojo DIVISION.” What a diminution of the true worth and greatness of nigeria’s one and only whiz-jurist. Of course Chief Bayo Ojo whom we have correctly identified as greater than the Supreme Court must necessarily be greater than the Court of Appeal, so why should anyone classify him as a mere Court of Appeal Division.
It was Montesque who laid down the political principle of separation of powers of government splitting government powers of legislation, execution and adjudication otherwise fused in monarchies and tyrannies, into three equal, separate and distinct parts.
Under this principle, the executive is not the legislator or the adjudicator. The adjudicator either is not in the business of legislating or executing policies but its decision must be obeyed by all. Before the arrival of the Attanigenius-general, all over the world, political actors have only two options: obey or disobey. The most you could accuse spurners of court orders then was “executive recklessness” or contempt of court.
But the advent of Chief Bayo Ojo saw a truly sobering and insightful improvement, readjustment or beautiful expansion of the principle of separation of power. The Chief Bayo Ojo restatement of Montesque goes thus:
“For the achievement of peace and the effective dousing of tension in overheated polities, the Executive arm of government via the office of her Attorney-General shall have the powers and authority to VET, ASSESS, INTERPRETE AND DICTATE WHEN, HOW AND WHERE THE JUDGEMENT OF COURTS no matter how superior can be executed. This interpretation and dictation remains binding, on all persons and authorities in the polity notwithstanding anything to the contrary in any law or even the constitution.
This court is a special one to be known as the STABILITY COURT and its jurisdiction can only be self invoked and the court shall be known as EXCO-JUDICIAL ARM which is the fourth arm of government.”
I know that a genius is hardly recognized in his life-time. Chief Bayo Ojo is one such genius. HIS restatement of Montesque and firm application of the stability theory contributed immensely to the peace in Nigeria today, especially in Anambra, Oyo, Ekiti and Plateau States.
To immortalize this great jurist and political genius of our time I advise the Ilorin Branch (Chief Bayo Ojo’s local branch) of the NBA to borrow a leaf from the Tiger branch which honours the legendary Gani Fawehinmi with the annual FAWEHINMIISM lectures, a recognition and perpetuation of the values and principles of Chief Gani Fawehinmi.
The Ilorin branch can dub Chief Bayo Ojo’s atannigenius-general political thoughts and contribution OJO(RO)ISM and it will be so apt and fitting.
I beg to so move.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
'Kutigi CJN: The Tasks Ahead' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 7 No 14, 22nd January 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
Idris Legbo Kutigi. That’s our new Chief Justice of Nigeria. Ku-ti-gi. What do you think the name means? I don’t know but if the meaning is anything near the sound, it should not be too far from durability and toughness.
Watching Justice Kutigi on the T.V, take the oath of office last week, I could not help but remember my school days. For I saw the old man carrying a brown leather bag on his shoulders, cutting a meek picture indeed.
After the oath taking, the new chief justice shook hands with President Olusegun Obasanjo with a deep bow of humility and gratitude rolled together that seemed almost servile. I only hope that looks in this case will be very deceptive.
The job of a Chief Justice of Nigeria is certainly not for the weak or the soft hearted.
In a dynamic polity like Nigeria regularly heated up by mischievous and professionally irresponsible politicians ably supported by all manners of spin-doctors and legal mis-advisers, the courts cannot afford to be soft and weak. As we all saw, it was the speedy, muscular and decisive action of the Oyo State impeachment case by the Supreme Court that put the ugly situation in Oyo State under control though all is still not well there.
If in non election years (2004 – 2006) politicians have been so disturbingly riotous, one can easily guess how turbulent and dastardly their antics will be in an election year such as this. The power struggle will be very intense and the tribunals and courts are going to be very busy. The politicians will be bullish for election is war by another name, so the judiciary must be strong and muscular to act well.
Of course, the leadership of the Supreme Court is vital in this regard. The legacy of the outspoken and active immediate past Chief Justice, Belgore CJN should be preferred to the somewhat docile, dovish posture of Lawal Uwais, Belgore’s successor.
The discipline of judges is another crucial task that Kutigi must see to. The lower ranks of judges and magistrates include some funny and in some cases notoriously despicable characters who have no business being on the bench even for a second. Corrupt judges should not be tolerated, ditto for those who mix law with politics like Bamisile J and Aladejana J of Ekiti State.
In all, the judiciary must assert its independence and refuse to be subservient to any of the other two arms of government – the executive and the legislative.
And so dear Justice Kutigi, welcome to the hot seat. May God be with you and be your guide.
THE LEARNED SQUIB
Idris Legbo Kutigi. That’s our new Chief Justice of Nigeria. Ku-ti-gi. What do you think the name means? I don’t know but if the meaning is anything near the sound, it should not be too far from durability and toughness.
Watching Justice Kutigi on the T.V, take the oath of office last week, I could not help but remember my school days. For I saw the old man carrying a brown leather bag on his shoulders, cutting a meek picture indeed.
After the oath taking, the new chief justice shook hands with President Olusegun Obasanjo with a deep bow of humility and gratitude rolled together that seemed almost servile. I only hope that looks in this case will be very deceptive.
The job of a Chief Justice of Nigeria is certainly not for the weak or the soft hearted.
In a dynamic polity like Nigeria regularly heated up by mischievous and professionally irresponsible politicians ably supported by all manners of spin-doctors and legal mis-advisers, the courts cannot afford to be soft and weak. As we all saw, it was the speedy, muscular and decisive action of the Oyo State impeachment case by the Supreme Court that put the ugly situation in Oyo State under control though all is still not well there.
If in non election years (2004 – 2006) politicians have been so disturbingly riotous, one can easily guess how turbulent and dastardly their antics will be in an election year such as this. The power struggle will be very intense and the tribunals and courts are going to be very busy. The politicians will be bullish for election is war by another name, so the judiciary must be strong and muscular to act well.
Of course, the leadership of the Supreme Court is vital in this regard. The legacy of the outspoken and active immediate past Chief Justice, Belgore CJN should be preferred to the somewhat docile, dovish posture of Lawal Uwais, Belgore’s successor.
The discipline of judges is another crucial task that Kutigi must see to. The lower ranks of judges and magistrates include some funny and in some cases notoriously despicable characters who have no business being on the bench even for a second. Corrupt judges should not be tolerated, ditto for those who mix law with politics like Bamisile J and Aladejana J of Ekiti State.
In all, the judiciary must assert its independence and refuse to be subservient to any of the other two arms of government – the executive and the legislative.
And so dear Justice Kutigi, welcome to the hot seat. May God be with you and be your guide.
'New Year Resolutions For Lawyers' By Adesina Ogunlana
Vol 7 No 13 15th January 2007
THE LEARNED SQUIB
I may be wrong but I suspect that should the Rapture take place at 12.00 a.m on 31st December of any year, Nigerians will constitute an overwhelming majority of those that would make Heaven.
This is because the 31st December of every year especially the 23rd hour to the 24th is the holiest, soberest, time for Nigerians. So quiet, reflective do we all become in that hour that nobody could have guessed that some few hours, days, weeks, months ago, we were one of the noisiest and most boisterous peoples in the world.
In this rare period of sobriety and gravity, we offer prayers en masse and make pious resolutions for the imminent New Year.
From what I saw, heard and overheard last year in the legal profession, I believe that the following should be part of the New Year resolutions of many practicing lawyers.
DRESSING
I, Barrister John Tetue vow with all my heart that as from January 1 2008, I will no longer go to court in crumpled coats, dirty shirts, or brown, soiled bibs. From January 1, I will come to court wearing only black shoes.
PUNCTUALITY
I, Barrister (Mrs.) Fatima Snailers promise to arrive in court no later than 8.45 a.m this New Year 2008. No longer will I be running and jumping into court late, sweaty and disorganized like I did last year.
INDUSTRY
I, Barrister Amaechi Highlife hereby today 31st December 2007 since the demise of our Lord Jesus Christ, promise as from 2008 to stop attending Owambe parties any weekend that I have a trial, the Monday next.
AMBULANCE CHASING
I, Barrister Gift Ismaila solemnly promise to stop practicing under the trees, hanging around magistrate court premises, or soliciting for clients either by myself or by proxies from police officers and prison warders as from January 1 2008.
SHARP PRACTICE
In the mighty name of the Most Merciful and Munificent God, do I, Barrister Smart Chap, solemnly swear that as from January 1 2008, to be straight forward and open with clients, courts and colleagues and bid bye-bye to ‘jankara’ practice, so help me God.
CONTINUOUS LEGAL EDUCATION
God helping me, from January 1 2008, I will no longer run away from attending seminars and workshops or run away from buying law reports, textbooks, law journals, including The Squib. From January 1 2008, I will rate intellectual and professional pursuits above pepper soup and beer guzzling.
BAR MEETINGS
I, Briefsville Alale Esq., Solicitor and Advocate of the Supreme Court of Nigeria and the ECOWAS Court of Justice do hereby promise to cease from shunning NBA functions and programmes, as I have been doing for the past twenty years. In fact, I will look for an NBA branch to join and will start attending Bar meetings as from this month, (January 2008).
N.B: One can only hope that these New Year resolutions will not go up in smoke before the end of the first month of the year.
You know from 12.01 a.m 1st January, Nigerians immediately rediscover the Naija in them. That’s why hoopla reigns immediately after the holy moment of 12 p.m December 31st.
THE LEARNED SQUIB
I may be wrong but I suspect that should the Rapture take place at 12.00 a.m on 31st December of any year, Nigerians will constitute an overwhelming majority of those that would make Heaven.
This is because the 31st December of every year especially the 23rd hour to the 24th is the holiest, soberest, time for Nigerians. So quiet, reflective do we all become in that hour that nobody could have guessed that some few hours, days, weeks, months ago, we were one of the noisiest and most boisterous peoples in the world.
In this rare period of sobriety and gravity, we offer prayers en masse and make pious resolutions for the imminent New Year.
From what I saw, heard and overheard last year in the legal profession, I believe that the following should be part of the New Year resolutions of many practicing lawyers.
DRESSING
I, Barrister John Tetue vow with all my heart that as from January 1 2008, I will no longer go to court in crumpled coats, dirty shirts, or brown, soiled bibs. From January 1, I will come to court wearing only black shoes.
PUNCTUALITY
I, Barrister (Mrs.) Fatima Snailers promise to arrive in court no later than 8.45 a.m this New Year 2008. No longer will I be running and jumping into court late, sweaty and disorganized like I did last year.
INDUSTRY
I, Barrister Amaechi Highlife hereby today 31st December 2007 since the demise of our Lord Jesus Christ, promise as from 2008 to stop attending Owambe parties any weekend that I have a trial, the Monday next.
AMBULANCE CHASING
I, Barrister Gift Ismaila solemnly promise to stop practicing under the trees, hanging around magistrate court premises, or soliciting for clients either by myself or by proxies from police officers and prison warders as from January 1 2008.
SHARP PRACTICE
In the mighty name of the Most Merciful and Munificent God, do I, Barrister Smart Chap, solemnly swear that as from January 1 2008, to be straight forward and open with clients, courts and colleagues and bid bye-bye to ‘jankara’ practice, so help me God.
CONTINUOUS LEGAL EDUCATION
God helping me, from January 1 2008, I will no longer run away from attending seminars and workshops or run away from buying law reports, textbooks, law journals, including The Squib. From January 1 2008, I will rate intellectual and professional pursuits above pepper soup and beer guzzling.
BAR MEETINGS
I, Briefsville Alale Esq., Solicitor and Advocate of the Supreme Court of Nigeria and the ECOWAS Court of Justice do hereby promise to cease from shunning NBA functions and programmes, as I have been doing for the past twenty years. In fact, I will look for an NBA branch to join and will start attending Bar meetings as from this month, (January 2008).
N.B: One can only hope that these New Year resolutions will not go up in smoke before the end of the first month of the year.
You know from 12.01 a.m 1st January, Nigerians immediately rediscover the Naija in them. That’s why hoopla reigns immediately after the holy moment of 12 p.m December 31st.
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