'Hu-Or-O Tiv' By Adesina Ogunlana

THE LEARNED SQUIB

There are many, indeed very many lawyers, at least in Nigeria who are holders of traditional or honorary titles of “Chiefs.” We know of Chief Obafemi Awolowo, Chief Remi Fani-Kayode, Chief Meredith Adisa Akinloye, Otunba (Chief) Adeniran Ogunsanya, Otunba (Chief) T.O.S Benson. All these chiefs are dead now. But there are lawyer-chiefs still very much here with us in the terra firma.

Some of them are Chief G.O.K Ajayi S.A.N, Chief Richard Akinjide S.A.N, Chief Gani Fawehinmi S.A.N, Chief Afe Babalola S.A.N.

Now it is my privilege and joy to announce to you or otherwise bring it to your notice that yours truly has joined the league of titled men, titled lawyers. I suppose you are in some shock. Who could have made a gecko a Chief? Well, wonders they say shall never end; peasants can princes become and paupers Midas. My elevation took place on Thursday 21st February, 2008 in far away Markurdi. Verily I say unto you, the ways of the Lord are mysterious. When with my colleagues, I left our FSP Hotel Imkpi Street, Markurdi that morning for J.S Tarka Foundation, I had no inkling that I would end the day a chief, a high chief for that matter.

Our business at the J.S Tarka Foundation that morning was to attend the National Executive Council Meeting of the Nigerian Bar Association taking place there. Of course, being wise Tigers, my colleagues and I, went to an eatery first and wolved down some large meals. Thus fortified, we sauntered into J.S Tarka.

The meeting was well in progress when we got there or about 9.30a.m. No true gecko sits still in one place for too long. Thus, after about thirty minutes inside the meeting place, I stepped out and into my destiny. I strolled round the J.S Tarka Foundation building, the ground being made more colourful, by the lively tribes of salesmen and women of books and clothes and the ubiquitous occasion photographers. I saw quite a rich display of interesting books and bought one or two. Then I saw a seller of native Tiv caps and clothes. Seeing my interest in the famous black and white stripes cloth he was selling, the seller draped same across my shoulders, put on a cap, made of the same black and white stripes material and lo, I was transformed in a twinkling of an eye into a chief of the Tiv nation. A certain onlooker, an indigene of Markurdi smitten by very authentic looking Tiv posture, pronounced me the Hu-or-O Tiv meaning the friend of the Tiv), there and then.

Apparently the native Tiv regalia fitted me quite well and I was transformed into a celebrity. As I moved about the grounds and the hall, admirers began to number in their scores. Since I looked the (Chiefly) part, I considered it prudent to act the part. I yanked the activist mien from my face, dropped the action walk and the power salutes of the revolutionary.

It was when it got to lunch hour that I temporarily forgot that I was now a prince among men. My first mistake was to join the queue for food with the ordinary commoners. Chiefs don’t do that, they sit in secluded, exclusive places and had their meals, the choicest portions and finest drinks brought to them there. Worse, when I had to have a pick of meals available, I went for, of all things rice, salads and other strange looking herbs and fruits, with stranger non-Nigerian names. Of course for such foods, you don’t use your hands but culinary weapons like knives and forks.

A lady who was dining opposite me complained about my conduct. Said the Gbokoitess, (she’s from nearby Gboko town) “How can you who dress like this (Tiv regalia) dishonour tradition by eating this European food when good, old, solid pounded yam and ‘sweet egusi soup is available?”

Robust as the question was, it didn’t faze me. Emergency chiefs don’t faze easy like that. I put on a brave face and asked her whether she could not see any English suit and bow tie under my Hu-or-O-Tiv chieftaincy wears? When she answered in the positive, I now lectured her on how as an African, I am a man of two worlds - African and European and as such, free to switch from one to the other or mix both.

In the matter of food, I have followed the European path, but on the matter of matrimony, I claimed I will follow the African way, since high chiefs should not be stingy in their allocation of themselves and their resources to just one woman. It was then my dinner-mate’s turn to be uncomfortable. You know the reason why.

Well, I am back to my base in Lagos now and my Hu-or-o Tiv regalia is safely laid in the bottom of my portmanteau. This is not to mean that I should be referred to as an ordinary ‘mister’ again. After all what I tucked away is my regalia and not my title. My title is freely and spontaneously bestowed upon me. I didn’t buy it. I didn’t apply for it. But as for the regalia, all the cardinal pillars of contract, to wit, offer (not mere chaffer) counter-offer, consideration, capacity, intent to create legal relations were present in the transaction. In short I paid for my regalia. I won’t tell you the price. But I will tell you the name of my title again- HU-OR-O TIV!

The Foolish Wish Branch By Adesina Ogunlana

THE LEARNED SQUIB
The Foolish Wise Branch

Once upon a time and even up till now, there is a mighty family, so powerful that all the land, and resources of the community belong to it.
The family which goes un-named for now, enjoys so much power that if it sneezes, all other people catch cold. If it belches, others do have indigestion and should it fart, other develop a month long frownitis (serious and involuntary bunching up, of facial muscles): source - 21st Century GECKO DICTIONARY).

When the illustrious founder of this great family wanted to leave this plane, he called his two sons and daughter to him and spoke thus:

"My dear children, the seeds of my body, the sweat of my loins, I am on my way to my maker and my ancestors. Heaven has been kind to me and I have grown prosperous, famous and powerful. You must sustain my name and even surpass my achievements. You must not fight amongst yourselves. I hereby distribute my powers and wealth to you, use them well and according to their purpose.

To you my first born because of your wealth, I give you the power to sit on the throne and rule the people. Rule the people according to the law, protect them with your might, for you are a mighty man and no coward.

To you my second son, because of your love for the people, I give you the power and the wealth to make the laws, for society which your elder brother, will use to direct the people.

As for you my daughter, your great wisdom and knowledge commends you to the throne but for your sex. Therefore, I make you to be the judge of your people and even of your brothers. It is you who will determine what is proper and what is not. What is true and false. What is wrong and what is right. Your second brother may make the law and your first use it, but you alone will decide whether the law made is good or bad or even tell the people and their rulers what it means.

After speaking thus, the great and mighty progenitor sent his three children out of his room. The old man smiled as he set to breathe his last, then a frown appeared on his face. He had remembered that he had forgotten something. Something very important.

Then he sent for his daughter. To come. To come alone. To see him. When his daughter appeared after a few moments, her father said:

“I need to speak specially to you, because you of all your siblings have a special responsibility and special status.” “My father, I am all ears” replied the daughter affectionately, tears forming in her eyes already.”

“Don’t cry for me. Don’t cry for anyone. For your name from today is Justice. Justice cannot cry if the right and good things happen. Is it not right that after all my many years on earth, I should go to my Maker? My eyes have seen enough. My legs have walked enough. My mouth has eaten enough. My ears have heard, even more than enough. I call you in specially to tell you that your job is the most sacred of all. You must do it with all sense of responsibility. The peace and survival of the community depends on you a great deal.

Wherever you are, Oh Justice, there will always be peace, quietude and progress. Take care to treat every person, every case before you equally, evenly and fairly. Let your charity begin at home. If you do no justice to the people of your own hold, how can you do justice to outsiders. Even if you do, you are nothing but a hypocrite. Your hall of justice, your arena of fairness and your theatre of equity must always be kept open. Your waters, the waters of justice must always flow like a river, to all and sundry.

Don’t shut down the avenues of justice, lest society become a jungle. The jungle is not your habitat. Your power, dignity and relevance is in the city. You are the salt of the government and the only real hope of the people.
Again I admonish you to let your charity begin from home. Treat the members of your household well and fairly, lest they rebel and cripple your works." Suddenly, the old mighty prince sighed. His time was up.

N.B: On Wednesday the 13th February 2008, the JUDICIAL STAFF UNION OF NIGERIA called off a nine - day strike to protest against poor welfare package of non-judicial staffers of the nation’s judiciary. For the nine days all High Courts and Magistrate Courts in the country went on forced holidays.

'The Lure of Torture' By Adesina Ogunlana

THE LEARNED SQUIB


THE LURE OF TORTURE

Last week, it became my duty to visit the Pedro Police Station, Somolu. The place looked reasonably clean, almost serene too. Of course the charge room was not a tranquil sea but then it was not a place chaos chose to clash with trouble.


I was having a pleasant chat with a Senior Police Officer in his small but neat room, when I first heard the first strains of one ugly music. In the room was a third person; my client, also a lawyer. He too heard the ugly music.


The music came from some distance, less than eighty metres away. Pure, raw, ugly, loud, very loud music. It was a solo and took the form of long, drawn-out yells, moans and cries of a man in terrible pain.


Ordinarily, you won’t hear such music, without halting and turning to look in the direction of its source. But on this day, the three of us in that room, merely carried on with our conversations - as if we did not hear the music; as if it did not touch us, as if it did not move us, as if it did not affect us, as if it did not diminish our humanity. When we finished our business in the cop’s office, my client and I stepped out. Then I cast an enquiring look in my client’s face and asked;



“Did you hear that? To which he replied – “of course now. That was a suspect ‘they’ were torturing.” Then we both kept quiet, as if indifferent to the ugly reality of the strong, established culture of suspects’ torture in the Nigeria police.


But I cannot but continue to remember the ugly music, not all the time though. It comes back occasionally and I wonder who the musician was, who his audience was, when the music ended, how it ended and why it ended.


Even though suspects’ torture is illegal under our laws, it exists deeply and vastly for two main reasons - social and judicial tolerance, even support.


When police employ torture as an instrument of facilitating their work of preventing or busting crime, many citizens, except the victims and their friends and relatives, wink at the horror. People generally believe it is proper and just to brutalise criminal suspects either as a means to an end in itself (to gain vital information) or as an end in itself (punishment for commiting crime). Accordingly it only serves a thief or a pick - pocket right if the police flays him with a sjambok for being caught or for refusing to cooperate “quickly and quietly” with the police or any other captor to give out the names of his accomplices, mode of operation etc.



Where the police is loath to apply strong arm tactics on a suspect, the average complainant would suggest and encourage the use. “Oga Police” they say, show am pepper then he go talk fast, fast.’


The second, and more effective support for the use of torture by the Police comes from the judiciary. From my experience, judges and magistrates, rarely rule in favour of accused persons in trial within-trials contests over voluntariness or otherwise of extra judicial statements of suspects to the police. I will place the ratio of success of prosecutors in TWT contests at 95%, whereas in reality, confessional statements especially in violent crimes such as robbery and armed robbery made voluntarily will amount to no more than 5% or even less.


The question is why do the judiciary assist the police in continuing with the illegality of torture? I posit an answer: judges (this includes magistrates) are birds of a feather with the Nigerian Police - lovers of short cuts, shunners of propriety, haters of due process and believers in the philosophy of: “the means justifies the end.”


Nigerian judges who choose to admit involuntarily made statements, knowing same to be so made rebel against the legal order that governs their job, so as not to jeopardise the work of the police.


The police in turn too who (routinely) choose to torture criminals do so too in breach of the law, but in the belief, that in the circumstances that is the best way to save the society from criminals and their havoc. The advocates and practitioners of torture enthuse about its expedience, cheapness and quickness of results. But how really effective is torture as an instrument of fighting crime? Torture is necessarily brutal, necessarily violent, necessarily dehumanizing, how then can such a method give good yields.’ How can such an instrument produce peace and orderliness the ultimate aim of law?


Torture celebrates violence as a virtue and a solution. But violence can only breed its own kind, violence. How can a violence filled society be peaceful and orderly. May be in the real, hard and practical life of combating crime, the total elimination of torture of suspects may be not possible or realistic, but then crowning and endorsing it as the first and prime instrument of obtaining information from criminal suspects is all too wrong.


I dare say only brutes will find such endorsement appealing. Is Nigeria a nation of brutes? Judges in particular should answer this question.