'Judges, Styles and Choices' By Adesina Ogunlana

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One man’s meat, says an English proverb, is another man’s poison. Now that’s very interesting and can easily be considered a huge exaggeration, if not an impossibility.
One may really wonder how, what is sweet nurture to one person can constitute an abhorrent danger to another human, considering that basically, both are of the same species.However if you were a lawyer who practices advocacy regularly and widely in the Lagos State High Court, you may find it quite easy to accept the truism of the aforementioned proverb of the long nosed Islanders.
Permit me to give a few examples.In Honourable Justice Mufutau Olokooba’s court, a man need not fear that he has his head covered. It does not matter that he has no title or status.But it is not so with Honourable Justice Kazeem Alogba of the same Lagos State High Court. Only traditional title holders can wear caps to his court room. Lesser mortals, maybe people like you and I, risk a charge of contempt, to go to the Alogba court with your cap firmly perched on your head.
Some three years ago, I witnessed the great annoyance of Alogba .J at the sight of a cap wearing man in his court.Now how do you address a high court judge? I have discovered that not all female high court judges like to be called milords.
An even more interesting discovery is that not all female high court judges approve of salutations referring to them as miladies.How I knew? When I first appeared before Mojisola Dada .J then of Ikeja High Court, I in all the innocency of my heart and perhaps under the influence of the spirit of the famous (1985) Beijing Conference addressed the “owner of the court” as “Milady.” Dada .J’s response was quick, curt and cold: “Milord” came the singular rebuke which even though quietly delivered, thundered its strong disapproval. About a year or so later, and infact only two weeks ago, I came to worship in a temple of justice at the Ikeja High Court, where the officiating minister was Honourable Justice Funmilayo Atilade.Feeling very comfortable indeed, I addressed the honourable judge as milord. With “milord” I was sure I could not go wrong. After all, was this not the teachilng and training we received at the smithy of our legal education – the unforgettable Nigerian Law School?Surprise, surprise however, for there came the correction from the bench. It was also curt like Dada .J’s, but cool and caressing: “Milady,” indicating that the judge wanted to be known, addressed and referred to in the feminity of the status of her judicial suzerainty.Unfortunately I could not quickly andfully take to correction. So one minute you heard me milording milady and in the very next, miladying milord!It must have been very exasperating for the poor judge suffering minute by minute sex-change from the mouth of an ass of a lawyer who kept going and breezily so, talala tololoing and then tololo talalaing!When my cup was full, the long suffering judge, paused ever so briefly in her work to address me, she mellifluously uttered this legend, “You can call me anything, in fact you can even call me Funmilayo.” The whole court burst into laughter. It was understandable. Imagine a lawyer addressing a sitting judge by his or her first name. Just imagine! Great advocacy?
To escape future embarrassment, I have decided to keep a notebook where the peculiarities, sorry uniqueness of our various judges would be recorded and carry same with me all the time. I will be studying this special notebook diligently.Of course if I am to appear before a judge who requires one to enter his or her court on one’s head, one would know ahead and conform. And if it is before another judge where you can only enter back front like a cultist, one proceeds accordingly.
After all, when you are in Rome, you roam like Romans!