'Expired Terror' By Adesina Ogunlana

It is not every day, you hear what I describe as a “comprehensive judgement”. But last Friday, it was my good fortune to be there when D. Okuwobi, honourable judge of the Lagos State High Court put a judicial and judicious end to a six-year old case in her court.

It was to say the least, a deep and well thought out judicial delivery. Industry was apparent. Scholarship was present. Save for a few understandable hiccups, the delivery was great.

At the end of the day, one had to resist the impulse of giving the honourable judge a pat on the back (literally) - for the simple reason, that such is never done, and even if such were ever done, who am I or my fathers before me?

This piece however, is - sorry to disappoint you, not about Okuwobi J (whose tribe we pray should increase in the Lagos state judiciary and who I sincerely believe ought to be placed, since yesterday, upstairs).

It is about another judge. A judge I saw, seated anonymously - on a chair in the bare reception. This judge was dressed in an agbada out-fit with a deep blue cap, worn in a partial cylinder (Aro onifila gogoro) style. His presence reminded me of a potentate of a rustic kingdom in South-West Nigeria.

I recognised the man immediately but offered no greetings. But except for the two or three other people, who apparently were in his company, no other person seemed to recognize him and if they ever did, offered no salutations or otherwise gave any hint of recognition.
I simply marveled at the ways of the world, for you need to have known this man in the prime of his power as a serving judge.

It is doubtful whether you can get more than a handful of lawyers, who knew him as a serving judge in the 80s and 90s and who appeared before him, who would not shudder with revulsion at the mention of his name.
If ever a judge was a terror and a bully to legal practitioners, this man was. Deflating lawyers’ egos appeared to be his hobby and ridiculing them in open court, a common past-time.

I was there in 1997 when he reduced a lady lawyer to a trembling mass of tears. I was there when he scathingly lampooned a lawyer as a “fuji” musician and harrumphed when the lawyer said he was an Ibadan based legal practitioner. "Little wonder," snorted Mr. High and Mighty Judge.

I was also there, where he from his Olympian throne destroyed the dignity of another practitioner, by grandiosely uttering the following words. “After listening to a beautiful but empty submission, I have no hesitation whatsoever, in dismissing this application. Young man, did you say you practice in Maza-Maza? You go back there and read up your law books. If I gave you five million naira this rainy morning, as you demanded, you think you’ll work again in your life?”

I cannot forget what happened when my case, an application for certiorari was called for the first time in this judge’s court.
JUDGE: Yes counsel, what’s this matter about?
COUNSEL: Milord, it is an application for leave to obtain an order of certiorari
JUDGE: (shouting and jumping up his seat, at the same time) Mandamus! Prohibition! Certiorari all are prerogative writs. Go to Appeal! I rise!
And just like that, the judge retired to his chambers. Thirty minutes later he came back to the court only to ask: “Youngman, you are still standing there?” He heard the application perfunctorily and perfunctorily granted the leave sought.
At the next hearing date, when I was to move the application proper, the judge struck it out, in my humble view, peremptorily, wrongly and unjustifiably.
It was a rainy May morning day and time 9:03am. The matter was number one in the list. This scenario now played itself out.
COUNSEL: My lord, subject to the convenience of the honourable court, we are ready to move our application.
JUDGE: Where are the applicants?
COUNSEL: Milord, I am sorry the applicants are not right here in the court. They are on their way. I am sure it is the rain that has slowed them down.
JUDGE: it is raining but I am here all the way from Ikoyi and you too, despite the rain, are here. An application for certiorari is a serious thing and should be treated that way. The applicants can’t stay in their homes and get it. I will strike out this application.
COUNSEL: Milord, I beg the court not to strike out our application. The applicants were in court on Monday and will come today.
JUDGE: Application is hereby struck out!
Last Friday, Mr. High and Mighty Judge, was just any other citizen of the land. He started his career in the court as a lawyer and even became the chairman of his local branch. Thereafter he became a judge in the same court. Now he is but a mere litigant.
A litigant who hopes on and depends on the judgement of the new faces on the bench. That’s life my dears, and the story of Mr. Justice Ishola Olorun-Nimbe.
At least as I know it.
Igba o tan lo bi orere.
Orere omo olofin



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