The Unstarched Collar

Love and the Lawyer

2012-02-14T23:18:00.000-08:00

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A contradictory title nodoubt. The lawyer’s job is driven by strife, especially in our local context;where bitterness escalates to an irreversible level before you call in alawyer. Even the modern suggestion of pre-emptive use of Law is worse. It merely displays a lack of trust. And whatis love without trust?

So, we should not ruinthe beautiful word by placing it side to side with, well…the Law.

Loveis for people who live freely. The lawyer’s starched collars permit no sucheasement. Love is for honest folks who are not ashamed of making mistakes. Itis a game of emotions. The Law is infallible and impassive. Love attractsgifts. The Law attracts penalties. Love is a gesture that goes beyond merewords. In the words of Ingrid Bergman: Akiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words becomesuperfluous.

But‘beyond mere words’ best describes a lawyer’s death.

Theanti-lawyer sentiment when Love is in the air is not helped by the practice ofDivorce Lawyers. You can sense their sardonic pleasure when they establish theunsavoury fact that sometimes, Love is inthe err…!

TheLawyer scoffs at the phrase ‘unconditional love’ as tautology. He believes thatLove should either exist in an absolute state; or humbly admit its openness toconditions. He does not believe in fallingin love or any such spontaneous magic. He recommends a firm foot-hold inmatters of the heart, governed by mutually agreed pre-conditions.

The lawyer’s concept ofLove is a bit like this:

“The parties hereby agree that for thesubsistence of this relationship (which phrase shall wherever the contextadmits, include such casual liaisons as flings, affairs, and friendship withbenefits as well as the more formal processes of dating, courtship and marriage).

The parties also agreethat no party shall perform acts or omissions which are likely to negativelyimpact on the other party’s state of health, mind, emotions, or finances.

“Omission”as used here is any unjustified forgetfulness on the part of the maleconstituent in this relationship of any occasion, event or circumstance whichin the opinion of the female constituent is important or highly cherished.These events include but are not limited to: anniversaries (which shall initself include, birthdays, first dates, first kiss, first hug, first argument,first fight, first picnic, parents’ birthdates [“parents’ herein used shall bemandatory for those of the female constituent, and discretionary for those of themale], sister’s boyfriend’sthanksgiving, etc); shoe size (UK and American); best chocolate flavours; bestfragrance, best shopping mall, best jewelry, best TV channel; best visitors;best topics of discussion, etc.

The Agreement will gofurther to provide that:

“Unreasonabledemands’ shall include any such urges, desires, or wants expressed orally or inwriting by the female constituent to the male constituent requiring theperformance of such activities as are either impossible or where possible wouldinflict huge personal discomforts and pain, or have such negative effect on thefinancial solvency of the male constituent as to endanger his life. These shallinclude but not limited to: questing for a week-long trip to Dubai and/or other exoticIslands, A pronounced preference for any variety of human hair beyond thenatural braids and weave; An insistent notice of the emergence of theBlackberry Porsche; cultivating an exclusive taste for Chinese and otherOriental cuisines; A habitual preference for the VIP sections of bars, lounges,clubs and during live-shows; an expressed dislike for the genteel gifts orflowers, poetry and chocolates during Valentine, etc.’

Thebad thing about this scenario is that there would be no Termination Clause.Love is permanent. Butevery contract permits an exit route. Oh, Love is not a contract…it is acovenant; a restrictive covenant. So, these conditions may or may not be met,and the parties live in stoic tolerance of the good, the bad and the downrightunacceptable. Where then lies the “Happily Ever After” elixir?

Onlyfools fall in love then; never the learned and knowledgeable…at least, not inthat mushy sense.

Thelawyer views love from a social perspective; the balance of society, the loveof the Law.

So,when the date rape occurs on Valentine’s, the loveless Lawyer is entreated fromhis lonely chambers. He is Mr. Damage Control who is never invited when the goingis good.

The big irony then isthat the Lawyer shows the best type of love. That, which brooks no excuses: youpay for your sins. In popular legal parlance; the saying “thou shall love your neighbor” is interpreted as ‘thou shall not injure your neighbor…”

So, when next you see aLawyer wandering distractedly across the red splashed streets on StValentine’s, do not point and deride him. He is expressing the same emotion,albeit a bit unimaginatively. Of course, we agree that he is also a moneygrabber, but then that ‘robber’ might just be your best protection. Grab his card and buy him a drink. Just besure to rise when he starts a glazed-eye discourse on the ‘subtle sexismdiscernible from Shakespeare’s sonnets’

END.

PS: In the light of ourcollective national scourge of religious/tribal violence and militantdestruction, the Nation desperately needs LOVE. Show some today…even to alawyer!

Happy Val’s People!

also published on THISDAY Newspapers, Tuesday, February 14, 2012.

Only this time, they returned to their barracks…

2012-01-17T03:00:00.000-08:00

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Same way the story goes? Thatsinking feeling at the guts; the bewildered, vacant stare- helpless surrenderin the face of that granite wall that demarcates mere possibility from thestings of reality.

Yet another charade? Playedout far above the heads of the ignorant masses?

And at the end of it all? Areturn to the familiar rat-race, and working vigorously to atone for the lossesfrom a diversionary timeout so early in the new year.

Same winners? Anotherhumbling reminder: The boss runs this station!

The story ends here. Butthere are a few post-scripts.

The people stormed the streets,alarmed at basic calculations which heralded certain starvation. They figuredout government’s strident permutations and promises for what they really were: TheOrwellian Sugar Candy Mountain, aplace where one might eventually berth…after death.

Labour eventually joined thefray, and made it official, and the throngs grew from strength, to numericalstrength.

In that massive crowd thatbuilt across the states, one saw different things depending on one’s perspective.A nationalist would see the formidable force which Nigerians posed, assembledas a single, united entity. A revolutionary would feel the initial dropletsconverging to stir up a turbulent sub-Saharan spring.

From the eyes of theGovernment of the day, one could see the glorious sight of ambushing one’senemies in a single ascertainable unit, thus making it easier to decimate them. A strategy well appreciated by EmperorNero, “Would it that the people had oneneck, that I may cut it off!”

The rest is recent history,and the gains and losses lie where they fell.

To all who gave voice totheir protests, I say- straighten up your shoulders. Do not slouch in disgrace.You gave life to your inner strength by stepping beyond silent murmurs. Sadly,you are only empowered to vote the government in. The ballots do not vote out, and any dissatisfaction in theinterim is at best expressed informally. Protests are therefore destined towither out in the long run, faced with a borderline legal perception assedition or treasonable uprising.

To the starry-eyed optimistswho may have been blessed with the necessary clairvoyance to predict that governmentwould keep its word, despite these years of betrayals and falsehood. I say,congratulations, and I heartily hope you read the cards correctly this time.

The real losers are the cynicswho merely dismissed the dissenting voices: “Wehave seen it happen before, nothing will come of it”. Yes, they may have been proven right onceagain, but they cannot even afford the luxury of a victory smile. Their faces remain a crisscrossof bitter lines which curl their lips further downwards in a permanent grimaceof rationalized despair. And every stirring for change is dead in their subdued loins.

One thing we will notforgive though, is viewing the Nigerian people as a mere bandwagon of ‘sheepish followers’. The impression wassold that a few people hijacked a sentiment and planted it in the minds of the masses.This view insults the Nigerian citizenry as a pack of clueless imbeciles and onlytime will tell how this will play out in our future dealings as a nation.

For once, it was not convenientfor government to label a protest ‘the idlework of political enemies’. The protests took a more enlightened shadebeyond the normal whimpering of a disgruntled minority. This crop of political enemies seemed to havestruck a rare harmony with both logic and public support.

Logicand public support. These are Democraticconcepts. But insincere leaders cannot contend with them. Thus, the oppositionhad to be quelled by a show of incumbent superiority.

And out poured the Soldiers!

Soldiers, an impressiveband. They do not talk much, their uniforms do. They herald grim promises likethe black raven, and exert sudden quietness to the uneasy skies.

The people’s voices died intheir throats.

Once again, the soldierssaved the polity. Only this time, they returned to their barracks.

God Bless Nigeria!

Time we considered Outsourcing the Business of Leadership…

2012-01-06T22:36:00.000-08:00

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The social contract between rulerand ruled fizzles into a shadowy jurisprudential abstract, in the absence ofcredible clauses that enforce performance- both ways. Fact. And mind, the contract is not saved if it merely provides one-sidedenforcement (In the ‘half bread is betterthan none’ sense). One sided contracts are judicially ill-perceived forcreating unequal bargains.

The fuel subsidy issue crystallizesthe absolute convenience of the party wielding the upper hand in an unequalbargain.

Now, supposing Subsidyremoval is a vital- if jarring- strategy (Hypothesis!); how have all theparties been carried along? The business approach would involve tonnes ofpainstakingly prepared (and credibly audited) documents stating exact facts andfigures, charts and measurable deliverables. This would be necessarily followedby inquisitorial scrutiny from the other party, and it is only when the latteris won over that the contract is executed- under ‘mutually agreed terms’.

But what is the scenariohere? They simply sent professors to sound out vague intellectual phrases, and youeither grasp it adequately to throw your weight behind the idea, or get amigraine trying to figure it out and simply say, to hell! Thus, it becomes yetanother avenue for displaying superiorintelligence, a mere intellectual debate, while its ravaging effects spread-mercilessly.

If this were a mereoversight on the part of government, it would be pardonable. But it is clearlynot. It is yet another rough-shod ride over the governed, buoyed by an ill-woven enforcementenvironment.

The enforcement environmentmakes the citizen unable to claim damages when the dividends of civil rule aredenied him. They are non-justiciable. Even his Human rights are qualified to suit public (read, State) interests.RIGHT TO LIFE blinks conspicuously in the books, but does nothing to stavesystemic murder.

My view of the Subsidyremoval and attendant Beelzebub-ianhike in (all) prices remains absolute: IT IS WANTON AND WICKED. Sadly, my civiliannature has also exposed me to cheap shots from well, fellow civilians. Theylabel my views ‘rants from an arm-chair’. They also condemn my lack ofimagination for – failing to profferalternative solutions to government. I leave the reader to figure out thefine irony in that phrase: proffer alternative solutions to the (Nigerian)government. Like, seriously?

I assure you, if I hadlicensed guns, I will shoot them wildly to register my protest. But then, theissue is far more grave than interring or exhuming private hatchets. It is a collectivebattle for survival by an irate, nay, volatile citizenry. And we must all takeour sides, firmly.

But then…when the battle iswon or lost, how do we move on? Even though the chants of revolution stir in mybreast, I have grown to understand that it is not an end in itself. The late HeavyD crooned- “Now that we found love, whatare we gonna do…with it?”

So if the battle is won, orlost, what are the feasible options towards avoiding this recurrent stalematebetween ruler and ruled?

And I say, maybe it is timewe seriously considered outsourcing the business of leadership. To foreigntechnocrats.

No, it is not a return tocolonialism. The world has outgrown that. Nations now act as joint-watchdogsfor one another against racism.

Call it a DiplomaticDoctrine of Necessity (DDN). Our leaders have failed us, roundly andrepeatedly. But we need not make a sorrow-tale out of that. So we would invitethese foreigners to operate every policy corner (Federal and state) in theirstead.

We do not have less learnednationals of course, but the lure of cash and the fear of the system haveproven acutely overwhelming. In thelight of this, once the technocrats are invited, they will be shielded with amodified version of the immunity clause, tagged- Freedom from Government Interference(FGI).

Their contract tenures willbe contained in collectively agreed agreement, and they will be mandated tofunction according to laid down Standard Levels. Thus, their remuneration willonly be accessed upon performance to certain measurable indices of thecontract.

If they under-perform, theircontracts will not be renewed, and they will leave our shores. If they engagein any criminality, the Immunity clause does not avail them and they will facethe Law’s full brunt. Otherwise, their contracts are renewed for another term.

This will not preclude ournormal rulers from being elected to office. Nah, are we not an Independentstate? By all means they can claim theglory of the technocrats’ successes. But then, their salaries will be payable outof the ‘profits’ from the technocrats’ operations, after the national/socialneeds are adequately met. Nevertheless,let the politicians look on the bright side. It will free them to iron morepressing issues…their agbada forinstance.

Going forward, when theneeded transformation is achieved in the nation’s critical sectors (in linewith specific timelines); the outsourcing contracts will be reviewed to covermanagement and maintenance. And so on.

This may be a dim-wittedview, but I had scratched my head vigorously to come up with a morenationalistic approach and my brain could only swim in circles. At least, I will not be accused of being a blockhead.

Nonsense!

PS: I am playing Eminem’sMOSH as I write. Readying for tomorrow’s great march. Bite me!

When the 'other party' must not be heard!

2012-01-03T08:34:00.000-08:00

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A vital ingredient of Justice is also its biggest weakness: The insistence that the other party be heard. Afterwards; Justice then tilts to the favour of the party with a stronger voice.

Another weakness here is that it focuses only on one aspect of an otherwise dual nature of humans- the intellect and the untamed instinct. Thus, a refined lie will always emerge victorious over raw truth- shoddily presented.

Every human craving cannot be rationalized abstractedly in finely woven arguments. Sometimes, we are faced with actual expiry of our very physical selves; and in such scenarios, the untamed animal must sprout its natural defences...urgently!

This latest brazen attempt to force-feed a nation with the toxic policy of Fuel Subsidy removal is not to be rationalized. The Government has lost its right of audience in the intellectual court. The policy is a terse declaration that the ultimate master-plan of the ruling class is to rid the country the embarrassing sights of the ill-fed common man.

As extinction looms large; what does the common man do? Proceed to the courts with a valiant hope of emerging the stronger voice? Albeit a disembodied voice?

I recently saw the movie, THE CONSPIRATOR, where the trial of the alleged band that conspired to murder Abraham Lincoln was relived. A line from the movie sticks out in my mind now: Inter arma, silent leges (In times of war; the law grows silent).

The Ruling Class has declared war on the Common man, and is smugly awaiting its turn at the courtroom bolstered by the knowledge that the jury will be inevitably swayed by its seasoned oratory. Unfortunately, this is one case where the other party must not be heard.

Let them shoot down protesters, and prove that it’s a base war after all; devoid of intellectual content.

But then, the problem with the animal instinct is that it has no sense of time, or proportion. Once a little spark is ignited, it might as well burn forever. Let our Rulers pay heed to this before they unfasten the Feud-Chain.

We need not fall prey to violent histories that pre-date us.

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!

2011-12-25T21:07:00.000-08:00

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Keep your collars unstarched till the New Year!

A few Ways to deal with your Principal this Holiday…

2011-12-20T04:38:00.000-08:00

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First, I apologize for the two week-hiatus from this Spot. I have spent the period coming to terms with the definition of mixed blessings: giving ones only sister away in marriage. While wishing the newlyweds happiness and bliss; we must quickly proceed to the business of the day.

It is typical in our profession for the Principal to use his junior hirelings as a ladder. Little wonder they are always wrong in his eyes. But, truth be told, his every ascent in the profession would not be possible if he were not availed the junior’s willing backs. And what are the thanks you get? Nothing! If anything, he wants to climb faster and thus, has already drawn up a list of unnecessary costs, which may entail salary stagnations and bonus withdrawals in the New Year.

Of course, he understands that he has you effectively entrapped in the sham of corporate existence. You enjoy the trappings of the ‘official’ car and air-conditioned office. He knows you will never willingly go back to t-shirts and jeans because you adore the little privileges of the suit and tie. The awe of clients and terror to the police; the euphoria of being addressed in those worshipful letters “Barrister” at every small occasion. These are worthy compensations he avails you for your undying loyalty.

Undying loyalty is represented thus: The holidays are here again, but you have already made necessary phone calls to the family telling them that you will not be coming in for the celebrations due to work demands. Of course, you understand, and so does the Principal, that work demands are nil during this Season. Everybody is joyful and at peace, so lawyers are not exactly needed. But the Boss wants you to stick around; you never know what opportunities might chance along.

Now, the Boss owns the business and the demands of work should be felt most directly by him. But no, he has already purchased expensive travel-tickets for a two-week cruise round the globe with the psychedelic wife and a brood of over-indulged rascals (Recall how one splashed ink all over your desk the last time they came visiting the office; and your boss’s mild- “Junior don’t be a bad boy” being the only reprisals for your ruined shirt).

Technically, you earned all the fees for the year. You wrote the motions; you drafted and reviewed the Agreements. You chased the government officials around and kept the most gruesome deadlines. Yet, you gushingly embrace the carton of groundnut oil and miniature rice bag grudgingly handed as end-of-year bonus. Why? Because you have worked yourself into a mindset that- come on, the boss has paid his dues…and is entitled to the good life. While you are still paying yours…

But does a lawyer need reminding that Life is Brief? You might as well start making it count. We have drawn up a few strategies to lift your back from the principal’s heavy boots this holiday.

1. GET DRUNK AT THE OFFICE END-OF-YEAR DINNER

Chances are yearly dinners are a tradition in your Firm, and are held at some classy Continental spot. But you will be a fool to think that this is a reward to staff for a year of hard work. Nah! The boss simply wants to show off his array of human trophies. The odds are- his colourful wife will also be there, with a list of distinguished acquaintances. Of course, you will be ignored during the entire dinner once your boss has cursorily swept the lot of you with a wave of the hand as ‘my staff’ during the introductory pleasantries. His friends will take the cue and you will find yourself pouring drinks and handing out the curry and salt all evening.

SOLUTION: since this is about the only time you get a freebie from the Principal, make the most of it! Soak yourself up real well, and ignore the warning glint in the boss’s eye. If you are like me, and wax philosophical when inebriated, you will score a major hit. Push yourself to the fore of the conversation, complete with demonstrations. By all means, sway on your feet and keep stories pouring out as you pour the drinks in. Sing of glorious tales where you kicked the behinds of SANs unaccompanied by the Boss, take a radical stand on the Boko Haram issue, and argue it out logically.

Most importantly, never let the Boss get in a word. While you are at it, slip your call cards to his distinguished guests (whom you have got enraptured); and rest assured they will call you up. They admire your boss, no doubt. But what is friendship to prospects of cheaper legal costs? The Boss will recognize the threat. He made it through the ranks and evidently understands how to play dirty. Our guess is he will signal you to the rest-room and attempt to sermonize on your embarrassing behavior. Upon which you should profusely apologize, stating that the stress of the year obviously caught up with you. Voila! You will earn yourself two weeks off, plus prospects of a bigger salary.

Your case will be strengthened if you flirt with his wife, and insist on a dance. Make her laugh, and press her close to your chest in the process. That way, you subtly announce yourself as a bigger threat outside the firm than in it. And your job is safe.

STILL AT THE DINNER TABLE…

If you are too timid to execute (1) above; come to the event with a list of Schools that advertise vacancies for post-graduate programmes. Navigate the discussion to expertise development in the Legal profession. Speak glowingly of other law firms where such capacity building is a mission statement. Remind everyone that there is a legislation: the Industrial Training Fund Act which compels manpower development by employers, and recommends stiff penalties for defaulters. Chances are, your boss will agree with you, and announce that he always had it in his plans to send out a couple of his staff abroad for further studies in the coming year. His distinguished guests will applaud, and this is when you strike! Make an instant request to take 2 weeks off in order to get all the originals of the relevant documents for the application from home. (Our courier services are not to be trusted).

The boss will smile and say “But of course”. His friends will nod approvingly. Mind though that you may have to give an eye for this grudgingly given aye. But then, that is matter for the New Year. Of course, you are not deceived by the promise of further studies. The break was all you needed. So, from that dinner table, head straight to the park/airport, and keep all phones firmly shut down for 2 weeks.

GET CHUMMY WITH ALL THE CLIENTS

Chances are the Firm gives out cheap Xmas Cards to all its Clients. Knowing the boss’s miserliness, strike him with it! Purchase more expensive cards, and throw in hampers for good measure. Personalize your message to the Clients, taking time to build them around their unique circumstances. They will give you cards in return, personalized as well. Throw these carelessly around your desk, for the benefit of the early morning snoop that all bosses are. He will not confront you on the issue; that will be too petty. But he will wonder how much impact you have made privately on his clients. It is deeply frustrating when you cannot measure your enemy’s strength. He will sulk though, but do not notice. Saunter into his office and breezily wish him the best of the season, while placing the exact replica of the cards you sent out on his desk. Smile innocently and request for a two-week vacation. He will search your face, not knowing which job offers might have emboldened you so. He will not want to risk the odds, and will nod his approval.

AND IF THESE DO NOT WORK…HIDE HIS TRAVEL TICKET!

Yes, chances are he uses you as both legal and admin staff. So at some point in your career, you have obtained his Visas and sorted his travel details. When you get his latest Visa, watch carefully to know which chamber of the cabinet he stows it away in. Certain of the huge fear you have of him, he has not bothered with a safe in the office. This is when you strike! Get that travel ticket and shred it. Hide his passport and those of his kids, leaving just that of his spouse behind. A busy man will never allow his wife travel without him. So the whole family stays back. Maintain your innocence when he queries you. It is double pleasure recalling that it was he who taught you how to lie. Yours will be a glum Christmas, away from the family. His will be doubly so, with the nags of a disappointed wife and howls of irate kids.

FINAL WORDS…

These strategies will work like magic! But I hope you have been taking your entrepreneurial classes, because there may be no 9-to-5 left for you in the coming fortnight.

Happy Holidays!

New Legislation: "WHORE AGAINST VIOLENCE"

2011-12-02T08:04:00.001-08:00

Art by Suga Belly

For those who might have written this idea off as somesick joke by the Deputy Senate Leader; Look what we found looming in the ever-busyminds of our Legislators:

ALegislative Proposal for the establishment of a "Sex Trade Development Agency"(STD-A)

“Fellow Citizens, wehave observed that the most urgent challenge facing our nation is neither thelack of shelter nor clothing, but a chronic lack of love. We hereby present thisreport (a result of extensive capital outlay on the best foreign and indigenousconsultants) as our initial effort going forward on a most crucial matter.

First, we acknowledge yourwidespread applause for our most recent milestone in denouncing same-sexmarriage, legally. To the minority who are still critical of the worthy step we took, weoffer no apologies. But for the overwhelming majority in support, this proposedinitiative comes to reward your steadfast hold to our collective value system: We hereby propose to legalize Sex Trade in ourcountry.

We will not bore you withthe many benefits of free expression of (heterosexual) love. But chief on thelist of gains is the reduction of violence. Yes! There is too much testosteroneon display within our territories; thus the destructive outpourings ofterrorist militancy. In our wisdom, wehave carved a fitting slogan: Whore Against Violence (WAV) to stem the tides.More so, if conducted in a well supervised environment, the Sex Tradecommission will undoubtedly ensure maximum economic impact. You must agree thatit is not accidental that Nigeria has always thrived on its ‘raw’ materials.

Now, to the Practical aspects-

There shall be establishedan Agency (the STD-A) which shall be responsible for the day-to-day Regulatoryactivities of the Sex Trade. Its primary function would be to issue Licenses(Or Licentious Clearance) to successful candidates. Candidates are to applywith two full-sized colour photographs, clearly detailing their bust and derriereregions; and a clear video recording to demonstrate the needed skill set. PLEASENOTE THAT- Licenses would only be issued after comprehensive screening exercises.This is one screening, where it would be profitable to gain positive remarks fromthe designated panel.

For purposes of clarity, theLicenses would be divided into 4 categories:

- TYPEA LICENSE: This would be issued to candidates who are beautiful, sexy and imaginative. Thus, expertise in the practice of Kamasutra, and the various stimulating fetishes as Leather, Spandex and PVC; Whipping and Dominatrix; Teacher versusStudent; Nurse versus Patient; Policewoman-Criminal, etc. is an addedadvantage.

- TYPEB LICENSE: This would be given to candidates that are beautiful andsexy; but conventional.

- TYPEC LICENSES will be reserved for the fat and the plain

While; the conditional TYPE D LICENSES would be for ageingcandidates whose sagging skins are already mutilated by cellulite.

The life-span of eachlicense is 2 years; and renewal is at the discretion of the Agency. Applicantsare also advised to acquire self-defence trainings; as the Agency may notalways be there to protect from the ire of a jealous spouse.

We must also point out herethat this Agency outlaws homosexual/lesbian practitioners. It also criminalizesmale practitioners and gigolos. This latter exclusion was a tough decision, butconfronted by the reality that Gigolos are used mostly by wives of rich men; we had no choice. We will notshoot ourselves in the foot!

Licenses will be revoked andthe holder penalized in the occurrence of any of the following events:

- Establishment of emotional attachment withclients

- Non-payment of license fees and sundrycharges and taxes when due.

- Extension of services to members of thesame-sex.

- Unruly Behaviour; etc.

To attain the level ofglobal best practice spearheaded by the Netherlands and Belgium, all licensed SexTraders (We shall henceforth call them LTs- Libido Tamers) should desist fromdimly lit street corners and suspicious neighborhoods. Haggling must never bedone in full public glare. We live in a webbed world and should actaccordingly. Thus, negotiations should be conducted via websites and phonenumbers of the LTs, through specified Booking Guidelines developed by theAgency.

We have already started necessary processes to update our Contract Lawsto accommodate the subject matter of LTs in the list of enforceable actions. Managersof Hotels and Guest Houses no longer have to look worriedly over theirshoulders when a skimpily clad female saunters into their premises. If shedisplays her License and computer ID card, she should be entitled to a PrivateSuite at discounted rates.

Necessarily, the Nationalbudget shall be widened to carve out a Special Fund for the Legislators' ‘privatewelfare scheme’ to finance their LTs in global trips. The daily tedium of ourjob makes it vital to have Upper and Lower chamber-maids. Of course, it goeswithout saying that licenses will be withdrawn and stiff legal means visited onany LT who knowingly attempts to blackmail a public officer that engages herservices.

At the internal level, thereshall be appointed for the Agency; an Executive Vice Chairman who shall beresponsible for the day to day running of the Agency. There shall also beregularly made available, such emoluments and reimbursements as are necessaryto bring the Agency’s activities up to speed.

Already, we welcome the inevitable influx of femaleopposition when this Initiative gets to the public hearing stage. Many women wouldsay they are being used as ‘chattels’; but nothing will be further from thetruth. Chattels are goods. Here, we talk, ‘services’. In truth, women onlybecome chattels when they are actually acquired under typical bride pricearrangements. So that part of our local practices is worth revisiting soon.

Under the proposed Law, women will preserve their muchsought independence, and offer natural services, while maintaininggainful employment. The practice of the banks and other corporate sharks thatpay them pittance to sell their bodies will be logically curbed when theydiscover their limitless options. And unlike the mad schedules of these banks,they will be afforded more leg-room.

We conclude by emphasizing that no married women shall beavailed any category of the Licenses. It shall not be an excuse that yourhusband is not a sufficient breadwinner. The gods forbid that we openly promote adultery!

And, yes, on the issue of a married man patronizing theLTs, well…it will be a defence in Law to prove that your wife either starvesyou, or is not desirous of stepping up her nocturnal imaginations to matchyours. (One of our much cherished collective values being the submission of thewife to her lord and master).

We must rest our busy pens awhile at this juncture; butneed to make a final crucial point. Under this Law, LTs shall be exempted fromthe liabilities of unsolicited electronic correspondence. You must all agree that thispractice area is all about Spam Mails.

Thank You.

BABA "SUE-WE" AND OTHER STORIES

2011-11-25T06:15:00.001-08:00

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SHIT HAPPENS...

For an ageing comedian in ahighly competitive market, life can get quite shitty. A fact Mr. Suwe has no furtherdoubts about after the rigours of running the NDLEA and Press gauntlet thesepast weeks. But like all works of comedy; the ending is happy! 25 million is afortune in any currency, no matter how devalued. The roar of victory is so loudthat the little details of ‘Appeal’ or ‘practical difficulties in securingeffective enforcement of judgment debts’ are stifled in the minds of his jubilantsupporters. I try to rejoice with him, but the cynic in all lawyers rears its uglygrey head. Yes, the NDLEA had reasonablesuspicion which is grounds enough toarrest and detain; no doubts, but they had made the whole process unlawful bynot preferring a charge within the stipulated time frame. Rudimentary constitutionaldetails known to every paralegal in the world. But when the curtains are downon this show, the habitual heavy handedness of law enforcement/security may have thelast laugh. They routinely maneuver past the long winded turanchi of the courts, and if the bloody civilian plaintiff feelsso bad about it; make im carry gun na! (Refer to: Miss Okere v. Nigerian Navy)

WE ALWAYS KNEW THESE SENATORS WERE HAVING A BLAST!

Condemnation is the easiestemotion for the human mind. This is why we remain thankful to the Law for oftendiluting that emotion with its myriad technicalities- until it becomes aquestion of mere arguments. Definitely,the menace of terrorism awakens the most vengeful feelings; and all willrejoice to see a scapegoat landed. But tarry! the Law whispers, wagging acautionary finger. If our emotions push us to fall so readily for claims of aman who is in the profession of blowing up cities, then there is somethingwrong with the society. An arrest is necessary of course; but until the factsare proven, we merely clutch at straws. And, however much we want to circle ourbunched fists around the average Senator’s neck, we cannot. That is the curse of lawyers…so we must letthe Law run its curse.

HELL HATH NO FARI...

Women are the weaker sex. Many believe this... to their peril. Test thatfact by casually breaking up with a woman that has given you her all. It mighthelp to make the announcement while she is in the kitchen, holding a cuttingblade and standing by a panful of hot oil. Now, before we make zealous rantsabout the propriety of Mr. President’s treatment of the former EFCC boss, place yourself in his shoes. Thewoman involved here is not standing by a cooking pot, but she is highly placedin a paramilitary establishment, complete with every requisite judo/karatebelts, and conceals combat reddened eyes behind black shades. You will agreethen, that the radio was a safer medium to make that call.
I would haveshrugged indifferently with the rest at the turn of events (Police has neverreally been the lawyer’s friend); butthen, I hear talk of employing retired judges to that position, and I say, abig no! Retired judges are our sacred cows. They are noble images of theprofession. We would not have them mixed with the corrupting aspects of theExecutive and Legislature; and at the whims of the president. No way! Let thepeople notoriously skilled in issues of corruption be used to bait the perpetrators.In fact, let a separate court be established for their processes, made up ofpolice-lawyers and judges. The Law does not want to associate with the dismalfact that the country’s decade-long battle with corruption has only purchased anew phrase into our national lexicon: Plea Bargaining.

MEETING THE BOTTOM-LINE OF GAY MARRIAGES

Everybody has been inspiredto read about the late Apple chief; Steve Jobs. Our legislators have evidentlyjoined the queue. At last, they seem to be learning how to pass richer Bills. Unfortunately, they proceed with theircharacteristic bottoms-up approach, and we are now faced with prospects of legalizing same-sexmarriage.

In the words of WilhelmReich, the 20^th Century psychologist, a worlddedicated to pursuit of bone-rattling orgasm is a world free of strife.
In away, he has a point. The peaceful wave of contentment that necessarilyaccompanies a shattering climax, if repeated frequently will turn us all into sheepishpacifists; and the world will know peace. Now, Mr. Reich did not specify the preferred modeof the orgasm nor did he detail the ideal combination of players. A piece ofambiguity which our Laws also imbibed when stating that discrimination shouldnever be visited to a person on grounds of “sex”. (it remains for a court totranslate "sex" as herein used- either as the state of being male or female, or as the preferredmodes of performing the sexual act). So while the argument rages; I helplesslystare on, mute. This is a subject where unfortunately the Law has failed toavail us with effective anal-ysis.

CLASSIC OXYMORON: PRIVATIZATION AS A GOVERNMENT INITIATIVE

Well, at least it feels goodto see the Vice President appear as a separate individual (as opposed to a deaf and mute attachment to the President’s apron strings) once in a while. But then, maybe it is better he remains silent, if all he does is toethat same line that will unflinchingly yield the same results. Listen to excerpts off the VP’sspeech on the Privatization topic: “The objective of the Committees (a committee ofalready employed public officers) is to facilitate the development of thegeneral policy direction of the government for the effective management of theprivatization programme…” . (We note here that the above Committees,came in three broad categories, namely: Sector Steering Committees, StandingCommittees and Ad-hoc Steering Committees).

The reticentVP continued: “You are enjoined to work assiduously to make the consummation ofall transactions a reality and ensure that the privatized companies aresuccessfully run. Distinguished Ladies and Gentlemen, you are also enjoined todo your very best to ensure that the transactions are accomplished throughinternationally accepted best practices and standards.” Same old crap!

I was at an event recently where theidea of a Sustainable Business Incubation Project was being discussed. Everybodywas vehement in their opinion that government should not be included in thestakeholder list. And if they must; they need to be given mere token roles. Our reality makes unemployment a private matter;beyond the competence of government. So, what ends would a government-ledprivatization process serve? Creation of more employment for already saturatedpublic officials? Where are the technocrats and the entrepreneurs in theSteering committees? Already, you can see that the Will is not there to drivethe idea any inch beyond the stale stereotype. I’m tired already.

Have a great Weekend

9 STRIKING SIMILARITIES BETWEEN THE PRESIDENCY AND THE LAWYER

2011-11-16T01:27:00.001-08:00

Art by Sugabelly

Herea few pointers…

1. POWERCORRUPTS

The Lawyer will be the first to tell you thatabsolute Power corrupts. So far, events have shown that the Presidency also thinksexactly the same way. It displays this mindset by a dedicated system of separation of power-between the rich and the poor, the high-brow and the slums. How is this nobleideal achieved? Simple, it creates a vibrant Power Holding Corporation which necessarilyrations power among common citizens to ensure that nobody gets more than his fair dose,and thus grow corrupt. Also, it consolidates this by removing all relevantsubsidies so that the masses can no longer fuel alternate machinery thatcontradict the doctrine.

2. FUSSand Her BOTTLE!

Now, we all know that lawyers incline towardsMinority Protection. (This may bebecause the majority largely ignores them). It may also have its root in acertain company law case- Foss v.Harbottle. That the Presidency also toes this line is a fact that cannot beoverflogged. Copy: huge security details around a select group of persons andplaces whenever the country heats up. And when a minority becomes too much of athreat; they are compensated beyond what is available to the majority. Now you may notice that as a result, a new attitude is developing towards the State: Create a big Fuss,and Her bottle (of goodies) will be availed you. Sadly, the majority remains timid, and the more militant minority groups earn the protection.

3. THEREIS FACT AND THERE IS TRUTH

Ask the lawyer; Fact is different from Truth.However, they co-exist in a complex relationship that is complementary and atthe same time self contradictory; a bit like those two hilarious creations ofLewis Carroll- Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Yes, truth is reality. But fact is proven reality. (The ‘proving’ processof course is won by the party who makes the louder noise). A few handyillustrations: There is an employment crisisin the country (truth). The Presidency is making concerted effortsto provide a billion jobs by 2020 (Fact). There is no security for the common man (truth). The presidency has developed partnershipsstrategically positioned to arrest insecurity (Fact). Good arguments createfacts. Bring in a number of sychoph…; sorry, witnesses; and you have awater-tight case. Truth therefore fails to mature to fact when it is notpresented in a visible medium of argument. Thus, if the holders of the truthare voiceless; sorry, they lose!

4. ACTIONmeans “WORDS”

To the lay man, Legal ‘action’ sounds like anaffirmative activity; for example, punching a defaulter in the eye. But it actually means a battle of words, complete with opposing counsel and a publicgallery. Presidential action is thesame; a plethora of words. Copy: “The Presidency shall take urgent action onthe Benin-Ore Road.” This translates as- wehave instituted a committee to chair a public hearing to discuss the initial reporton the issue. In the law courts, during legal action, counsel debate and adjourn to make further findings. Andthis may last forever. The presidential action functions in no less a manner-The committee adjourns on a retreat to a cosy island to work out modalities. Afterwards,members of the opposition are invited to a press conference to continue thedebate. The decision is summarized in a report and another retreat is organizedfor a follow up summit to develop a viable Actionplan.

5. GROWTHis measured by Number of JUNIORS.

As a lawyer, if you run a scanty office, youhave gone nowhere at all. Nobody cares about how efficiently your small establishmentoperates. On the day of reckoning, you would not smell the juicy plums ofSAN-ship. Therefore, the more juniorsyou have milling about your office, the more visibly effective your firm is. Let them swarm around, even if they just helpcarry your briefcase and dust your files. The ideal Law office should be anunending buzz of motion. Hemmingway failed this one when he said – never mistake motion for action. He didnot recall that motions are thefulcrum of legal action. Now the Presidency’s operations are a perfect clone ofthis scenario: Once you are elected(?); employ an unprecedented number of ministers(Make sure to double the figure of the last regime). Carve out more commissions,agencies and department. More juniors! Of course, each department should have aSpecial Adviser who has a PA. A typical chain of command should run: The ChiefAssistant to the Personal Assistant to the Special Adviser to the Chairman ofthe Presidential Advisory Committee on blah blah blah…

6. NEVERMISS THE RIGHT “PARTY”

The adage goes: You will never be called tothe Bar if you ever miss dinner, or any like designated social gathering of theLegal Council. Yes, even if you make a first class grade, missing one Dinner isenough to mar you. Yes, the Council does not give two forks. The Presidency has the same orientation. You can achieve allyou will in professional service, business, or politics, but if you miss out onthe right Party, forget it. Awards and medals will always flow, but do not everstop to imagine that you will make the Honours list. Merit goes to those whoattend the right events; parties, cocktails, and make the right speeches. Otherwise…youare simply not fit and proper.

7. ALWAYSANNOUNCE YOUR APPEARANCE, FEARFULLY

Boldness is the mark of the good lawyer.Thus, when they appear in court, they do not timidly mumble their names. No, theystand up with all the majesty they can muster. They sweep their flowing robesin a swish of flamboyance (maybe knocking up the heads of a few poor counselsitting nearby) and pronounce their names in that slow and deliberate mannerthat jars a sense of their fearsomeness into the minds of the litigants huddledat the public gallery. The Presidency announces his appearance no lessvigorously. The wailing sirens are usually not enough, and must be accompaniedby menacing soldiers with furiously contorted features, wielding clubs andSMGs. Did the good Machiavelli not say that itis better to be respected than to be loved? The masses can borrow a leaf: Tofeel the sweetness of power, you need to inspire fear… not love.

8. NEVERACCEPT A DEBRIEFING!

It is a mortal sin for a Lawyer to have a record ofdebriefing. No, you must follow a client to the bitter end. At some point inyour relationship, the client’s willingness or otherwise, no longer matters.The lawyer thus becomes a necessary aspect of his life, and upon expiration, hisBrief is renewed for another tenure till death do them part. (Yes, death;because judicial decisions can always be appealed against, ad infinitum). If the client proves unduly troublesome, the lawyer simplyinserts the necessary ‘claws’ that ensure a carry-over of pending issues to acompulsory next term. Now, need we illustrate how this applies to thePresidency?

9. And FINALLY…

The presidency is encouraged to experimentwith the nation’s economy as it pleases. After all, the lawyers assure that - theworst scenario for capital offenceis… debt.

I rest my thesis.

THE DAY THE MULE KICKED (A TALE OF TWO LAWYERS)

2011-11-10T21:06:00.000-08:00

Guest written by Ken Uzim

Art by Sugabelly

The New Recruit had a fancy Masters’ degreeand a funny accent. Bespoke tailoring and a top-of-the-range mobile office. Inthe words of the HR Manager, he was “…brimmingwith the sartorial urbanity of a supremely confident professional and possesseddemonstrable expertise in telecoms law. A most invaluable addition to thepool of specialists required for exponential growth of the Office’sbusiness”.

TheChairman approved and they hired him on the spot. They made him a Senior Manager,four cadres above the long-suffering office mule, Eze. Eze, whose only claim to‘offshore content’ was a laminated cardboard ‘Identification Tag’ dangling froma loop of colored rope, which was given to him during a workshop on themodalities for cross-border network expansion that he attended in the NigerRepublic.

HowEze so cherished that offshore badge of honor! It had a pride of place at hisworkstation. It represented the one and only time, in his five years ofdrudgery in the Office –without promotion or pay rise - that he had traveledbeyond the shores of the country on business. It mattered not to him that thejourney involved a Chanchangi flight to Sokoto via Abuja and an overland,twelve hour trip in an open Hilux truck through the rugged rocky plains ofno-man’s land that separated our French-speaking neighbors from the Northernborders.

Ezewas proud of the trip, nonetheless and took several snapshots of the giraffeswhose – in his words, “majestic” – strides across the road, constantlypunctuated the journey. He would be quick to retort at any meddlesome inquirerseeking to mock his means of travel that he would not have beholden any ofthose ‘majestic’ creatures if he had travelled by air. Not like Eze could havetravelled by air anyways. You see, there was no direct commercial flight fromhere to Niger; so, you would have to fly Air France to Paris and connect Niameybut Eze was considered too small a fry in the Office’s pond for such anexecutive treatment. Eze insisted he would still choose to travel by roadshould he ever have the opportunity again. As if he had a say in the matter!

Eze’sworkstation was a box-sized cube in the Office’s shop floor, crammed end-to-endwith burgeoning paper files. Hiswriting desk, oftentimes, was on his laps as the only available free space onhis table was already taken up by the keyboard. The Office was cutting costs,you see, and believed in optimal utilization of every square inch of thepremium space. The New Recruit, however, had a corner space to himself, anenclosed cubicle with an oversized mahogany desk and fireproof filing cabinets.Unlike Eze, the New Recruit had a well-stocked refrigerator for ‘refreshertime-outs’ and a dedicated air-conditioning unit not subject to the petulantwhims of the central cooling system.

Itwas true that Eze had no post-graduate training, whether offshore or otherwise,nor did he possess the affable dapperness of the New Recruit, but Eze had grownon the job: poring over files and relevant laws, being hands-on in regard tolegal issues touching on the Office’s telecommunication business and makinggood friends with experience. However, the powers-that-be believed that Eze’s‘wealth of on-the-job experience’ was trumped by the glossy embossedcertificate, issued to the New Recruit by one outlandish university in theremote reaches of the United Kingdom.

Andso it was that Eze’s monthly pay remained a paltry fraction of the New Recruit’sweekend allowance. Was Eze grumbling? No. Was he envious? May be. Was he movedto spite? To resentment? If he was, he masked them well. He remained his oldself, slowly and silently being buried under the mounting pile of paperworkthat overran his desk.

Byand by, it came to be that the Overlord of the Penthouse, as the Chairman wasknown, found out that the Office was being owed arrears of interconnect debtsrunning into hundreds of millions of Naira. The errant debtor, despitecollecting and aggregating these monies up front at the time calls wereterminated, had failed to remit the Office’s share. The Overlord was livid. Itwas bad enough that he had to find out by himself that a liability of suchmagnitude existed in favor of the Office but what he found ‘criminallyunpardonable’ was that none of his Executives or mid-management staff hadbrought the spiraling debt to his attention.

Legal, give me advice ASAP on what canbe done immediately to mitigate our losses!

The NewRecruit’s return mail was brisk: Disconnectthem from the Networks, sir.

Meanwhile,Eze, who had received the same email from the Overlord wrote a reply to the New Recruit ‘for-your-eyes-only’ pointing out that the NCC regulations forbadedisconnection of interconnect partners by operators on any ground whatsoeverwithout recourse to the Commission, but the email went straight to the New Recruit’s junk mail folder, where, he had directed all emails from thedisdained mule.

Andso it was that the interconnect partner got disconnected, subscribers whocouldn’t access the interconnect network complained and it got to the ears of theNCC who investigated what had happened and found out there had been adisconnection and instantly slammed the Office with a hefty fine for breach ofregulations and advertised the fine in the National dailies, for deterrence.

TheOverlord was mightily embarrassed. The Office inquisition was short and swift.The New Recruit was summarily dismissed for giving wrong legal advice and forignoring the email warning against unilateral disconnection. Eze was promotedtwo levels with increased benefits.

ButEze submitted his resignation letter that same day and walked out of the Officetaking only the keepsake from the Niger Republic.

Theysay he now runs his own private practice advisory on telecommunication laws.

In the Case of SAMSON v. THE FOOTBALL FEDERATION (A Sneak Preview)

2011-11-04T01:54:00.000-07:00

(DISCLAIMER: The following article isentirely fictitious. Any resemblance to persons living or dead and other similaritiesto real-life circumstances are purely accidental and the author offers his sincereregrets)

We got intouch with the Mr. Samson’s legal team and they let us in on their proposed arguments.We are overawed by the pure genius and cannot help reproducing them here forour readers:

YourLordship, for no ascertainable reason, the defendant (hereinafter “the FootballFederation”) has always given our client a raw deal despite the fact that healways maintained a quiet and harmlessly brooding mien, and stayed free of controversy.If you recall my Lord, in his days as a player, they gave him the Number 13 jersey despite stronghistorical evidence that the number bodes ill-luck. All pleas by our client bounced off theirobdurate ears, and my Lord, we all recall the consequences only too vividly. Ourclient missed that crucial penalty in the semi-finals against Cote d’Ivoire at Tunisia‘94 and almost gave the nation a collective thrombosis before the game suddenlyturned around on its head.

Yet, ourclient’s insistence on a Jersey change was scorned as superstition and therewas even talk of dropping him from the team until that second game in the USA94 World Cup against Argentina. My Lord no doubt joined the euphoric crowd ofNigerians to celebrate our client’s excellent strike. Yes, we eventually lost to suspectofficiating, but we joined the golden ranks of underdogs who scored against theDiego-era of Argentina. Why? Because our client had persevered and obtained ajersey change! (He wore the Number 12 atthe competition!) We are constrained to add here that a certain Mr. Ezeugo who inheritedthe number 13 got involved in a career threatening car crash shortly after the Mundials. Enough said.

Thankfully,our client continued to enjoy blistering form in his meritorious sojourn in Franceand was deservedly due to retire to quiet enjoyment of well earned splendor. Butno, the Football Federation sought him out again. We, his legal team expressedreservations at that initial offer because the Federation has a long history ofturning brilliant men to piteous wreckages. But our client humbly accepted to do serviceto the Fatherland. But ourhunch was proved right. The defendants wielded another raw deal in that offer.

Now,everybody knows that our nation is jinxed in the Under 20 FIFA Championship. Wehave been so destined since the climax of the Damman Miracle, and every other thing has remained, well…an anticlimax. My Lord youcan see now that this was another obvious trap to tarnish our client’s golden career.But no doubts sir, you were a witness to how things eventually played out. Thetrap failed woefully, because although the jinx swallowed our clientnonetheless, the circumstances of his defeat kept him on the right side ofpublic opinion, thus throwing a spoke in the wheels of the malevolentdefendants.

And, at thisjuncture my Lord, we would like to move for the National teams of Argentina tobe joined as necessary defendants to this suit. Yes, that second defeat attheir hands, has been trailing our client’s career in an uncanny way. Wesuspect some kind of ghoulish vengeance for that daring strike in ‘94 referredto in foregoing paragraphs.

My Lord, thedefendants arm-twisted our client to continue to the Beijing Olympics and mandatedhim to achieve Olympic gold. We saw how he bravely steered the lads all the wayto the final. Again, the Argentines (!) stood in the way. My Lord, as usual,the voice of the people moved justice to our client’s favour again. The chantsgot alarmingly close to threats of anarchy if the Federation ever sacked him. (MyLord certainly understands what anarchy portends for the judicial institution, andwe hope this reference serves as useful practice direction).

However, inthe face of unending mediocrities we continued recording at the senior teamlevel, (compounded by yet another cheap defeat by Argentina [again!] at theMundials; the defendants sneaked up to our client yet again. Our client accepted; and in his characteristic commitment to God (My Lord recalls that his inaugural speech was a gospel tune) andcountry, he failed to see through the glaring jealousies at work in theFootball Federation.

We advisedhim on the warning signs when the defendants paraded a suspiciously weak(Argentine!!!) team against our senior team which he had given the neededface-lift. Our client scaled through; and the Federation yielded to the alien conceptof a second leg in a friendly match (!) just to catch him short. When defeat only made Nigerians chant his namethe more; the defendants executed the ultimate coupe de grace. They infiltrated his camp. His goalkeeper wasturned berserk, and on that final agonizing day against the Guineans; the fair legsof his once lethal winger grew leaden and stiff.

The defendantscould not resist their glee when the hitherto supportive public poll grew hazyand in the ensuing confusion, they struck- by purporting to SACK him. But my Lord, this Samsonmay be bald but he is no push-over, emboldenedby our robust Legal Practice.

The argumenton the other side is that our client failed to meet the milestones stated in hiscontract. They insist that he was mandated to attain the semi-final spot at theAfrican Nations Cup next year. .But my Lord, we did not even reach thecompetition on account of force majeure!Oh yes! The sweltering Abuja heat on that fatal match-day was a natural disasterthat obviously interfered with seamless performance of his obligations underthe contract. Now, if the country had reached the competition and failed to getto the semis, we would not task thetime of the court and would gladly accept the defendant’s debriefing.

Here we wishto refer to the case of Avram Grant v. Chelsea (2008, UCL)wherein the plaintiff had been wrongfully sacked because of failure to attainEuropean glory. Of course the highhanded defendant-employer paid millions incompensation, because there was no laid down expectation, thus no failure toperform; therefore the sack was unjustified. The similarity to our case isstriking My Lord. The contract was silent on what the liabilities were if thecountry failed to qualify! And my Lord, it is trite Law that the expressmention of something implies automatic exclusion of the unmentioned ones. (Expressio unis est exclusio alterius!)

In the lightof the foregoing, we hereby seek the following orders from this Honourablecourt:

· Thatthe position of the Chief Coach of the country’s senior team be declared vacantpending the final determination of this suit; and until such further period ascounsel on either side have fully and finally exhausted their respective rightsto Appeal up to the apex court.

· That a compensation of TwoBillion pounds (amounting to the financial value that would have accrued to ourclient if he had accepted offers in Europe these last six years) be awarded our client. We gather that Chelsea FC looked his way whenthey bought his protégé midfielder. (We urge that you dismiss the defendant’sposition that our client would not have survived 6 years under Chelsea’s tempestuousownership- as mere speculative conjecture)

· PublicApology from the Argentine senior and age-group teams, as well as a directiveto FIFA to stand down any fixture between the two countries for the next tenyears.

· ThatMr. Odemwinge be fined a year’s wages in both club and country for “refusing to play” against the Guineans.(See the case of Tevez v. Manchester City (unreported)

My Lord, we humbly close our case withthe maxim: Those who live in Glass Housesshould not throw stones.

THEEND

TRICK OR TREAT? (The Lawyer’s Halloween Story)

2011-10-31T00:30:00.000-07:00

Google images

Often we have heard it saidthat the Legal profession is a jealous mistress.Here, the flippant reader may point out that as a rule, most jealous mistressesare also unattractive. But we shall not be drawn into that argument. The Law exhibits no more violent reactionthan any female whose place in a man’s heart is under threat and will nag andfight, claw and bite, to restrain him from the lures of other callings. Likeevery possessive lass, the Law insists on making Life one long, unending courtship, and will put one throughmassive rigours in the quest for perfection. It is therefore no coincidence inthe profession to say that Practice makesperfect.

So how did lawyers end up inthis chokehold-romance? Well, it is the inevitable consequence of failing Math.This in itself is food for thought when expressed this way: Mathis all about logic. You must fail Math to be a Lawyer. Yet, Lawyers decide thefate of society- by applying logic. (And the result is blind Justice;obtained from blind arguments)

Back to the subject. Beingsuch an abject failure in Math, the lawyer desperately turns to English. He must create a kind ofbalance by mastering the language beyond ordinary (and useful) application. Sohe devours the dictionaries and encyclopedias, derisively snorting at fictionand other lively writings. He digs for the roots of words and burrows throughthick covers of the Thesaurus to guarantee an ample barrage of heavy-soundingsynonyms. He is egged on by his tutors: “Talkingis the Lawyer’s stock in trade, learn more words!” In his defective logic,he misses the irony when people offer low fees for his “services”. And thebewildered client rolls his eyes “Did theynot say Talk is cheap?”

For his cheekiness, theclient is dragged through the agony of multi-paragraphed affidavits, wherein heonly recognizes his name amidst a befuddling mass of archaism. He further bearsthe cross during court examinationsand comes out sweating, more than willing to settle out of that torture chambers they call - Courtroom.The lawyer smiles inwardly. Even if he is an utter imbecile at balancingequations, his Bank statement never fails to balance on account of his wordsmithery.

ButMath shows its supremacy again. Technology!

Whilethe Law sets out to make us all into wizened conservatives scared of steppingbeyond the straight and narrow, Technologyfrees the merry, wayfaring adventurer in us. We squeal gleefully at another newtoy in the market, frantically jostling for the latest designs. Nobody isspared. The old, the rich, the young and the struggling. Nobody stays the sameafter experiencing the seductive Blackberry touch. The world is launched intothe exhilarating social media where all things are bright and beautiful. “LOL” removesthe sting from all transgressions, and the “like” button maintains socialequilibrium. We do not take it beyond that Zuckerberg fellow to add a newapplication- the “Facebook-Jury” and thus, place guilt/innocence at the realmof a digital sentence. Computer programmers never rest on their oars. Daily,algorithms and other complex numberings flow from their heads and assume theshape of more smart gadgets. The Ipads,the Galaxys…all these prove verybitter tablets for the Law’s ingestion. The world is no longer patient withwords!

Riskingthe tumultuous ire of the jealous mistress, the Lawyer tries to experimentalong these new ideas. He sneaks behind his dusty libraries and opens alap-top. All the clients have gone online, and can only be reached with hi-techlingo. After several vigorous scratches to his head, The Lawyer stumbles on aphrase: The LAW-BLOG. Lmao! Laughing My Ass Off (yes, the Law is an ass).

Incidentally,today is Halloween, and this thought conjures a scenario in my mind:

Thinkof the typical Halloween costume party. (Not like I have ever been in onethough). Invitations have been sent out to your most interesting friends. Thedour and the dull are conveniently omitted. Nightfall approaches, and the creepycharacters start emerging: Count Dracula with his exaggerated canines dragginga bloodied heart in tow. Frankenstein’s massive frame vibrates the ground as heglares wildly at impetuous kicks from a snarling Mr. Hyde. Dorian Gray’s chillingeyes speak countless horrors of corrupted youth bottled in a fragile mask;Werewolves, Vampires and Zombies huddle in dark corners shrieking gutturally.If the setting is Nigeria, the acclaimed Nollywood House of Macro would also have done a decent replica of Mr.Clifford Orji; or better still, Mrs. Merit (from Living in Bondage)swathed in white sheets with that disturbing monotone of “Andy, Andy, Andy”. Howlsand cries reverberate on all corners of the room. Everybody is a child again,terrified and having fun.

Andsupposing, when the last guests trickle in and the oaken door is about to besealed from the sleeping world, a final apparition rises from the shadows. Thislatest entrant is quite as scary as the rest. Flowing, ominous dark robes, and atimeworn, dusty headgear. Wow! Which character is this from the ghosts of theancient past...?

Theapparition suddenly turns and reveals a bespectacled face, while intoning itsbest imitations of the evil dead…in Latin.

Lo!It is a Lawyer!

Ibet the party will break up awhile in confusion; and the misfit brusquely shownthe way out. He will go back to the arms of his jealous mistress, who will kisshim for having returned, untainted by the noisy neighbors. A most wordy lover.

Meanwhile,he will lay silent in her arms, the loud fun-fare of the night eating his heartout.

Hewill remain an outsider to their revelry; because the world has not yet figuredout what his real roles are: To Trick or to Treat?

THE END

POSTSCRIPT:Please, wish me a Fab' Birthday; and Welcome to the Unstarched Collar BlogSpot!

THE YOUNG BAR AS THREATENED SPECIES (BOOK TWO)

2011-07-19T10:31:00.000-07:00

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I once sat to an out-of court settlement forum onthe opposing side of a learned SAN. Daunted by the prospect, I had researchedvigorously and come up with an infallible proposal, waiting eagerly to see itstun the silken one. Two hours later, my back still ached from thecondescending pats he administered (good job, son! good job!...you have abright future in the practice). Meanwhile, he had my client hopelessly seducedwith his joviality- “Trust me sir, I hatecourt-rooms...I hope we can kill this matter before it gets there!” hecrooned while making hasty red markings on my proposal. My client nodded along,blissfully unaware of how those red marks twisted his case beyond salvage.

“You see”, the SAN started a monologue as wereclined in the leathery interior of his BMW (while I silently chartedalternate courses for the transport-stipend my client had earlier provided) “Itbeats me completely when today’s young lawyers come up with paranoid ideas ofsome evil machine working on a steady grind to annihilate them. And in typicalextremities of youthful ignorance, these ideas have been crystallised into amindset. They suspect anyone upwards five years at the Bar of being part of a crewinstalled by ‘the system’ to operate the said evil machine.” I listened. He continued, “A quote from the 18^thcentury Greek, Hesiod easily comes to mind - ‘When I was a boy, we were taught to be discreet and respectful ofelders...but the present youth are exceedingly wise and impatient of restraint’

Ihear they are even moving for a minimum wage for young lawyers; the temerity!”He gasped, turning to me in purple faced indignation. I fixed my stare on theglittering dashboard; silence is golden. “We do them a favour when we employthem, I tell you! For what is intelligencewithout experience? Law practice is a juicy morsel you can only nibble uponsprouting the teeth of experience. We help them cut their first tooth, and itis bad enough that we suffer the double jeopardy of also paying them salaries...nowthey want to fix the rates! The world issurely at its twilight when we allow theissue of fair recompense to bedetermined by some psychedelic youthforum.

Andthe ridiculous chants to scrap this title, our little reward for a life ofdrudgery in the law’s temple. They try to support this position with claimsthat we block them from the largesse of legalesse. Ha! Thesekids have outsized self-beliefs I tell you. So they really believe they can compete?Clients are not fools. Winning cases has never been about lengthy research andsmart presentations. If that was the case, the law would not thrive. Forget allthat talk of no-adverts, the Law sells as a brand. In the legal marketplace, wehave built brands. Clients are suckers for brands. Have you never askedyourself why despite the hue and cry of our high prices, we keep winning them? Dothese neonates know this? They whittle down fees to ridiculous rates, and vauntabout revolutionising legal practice to become more affordable! Refinedclientele flee from such roadside peddling.

Doyou think the world is blind to the falling standards in the profession? Thisconsolidates our position as rare species, who must be optimized before the entirelegal structure falls to the ruins of the young bar. I have loads of them in myemploy; what do they do? Waste all their time on the social networks and Blackberries.I humbly take my fair share of blame in this. I was the one that availed themcomputers and internet connection in the first place. Well, I have learnt that kindnessdoes not always pay off. And they claim to work like robots, well they do. Theychurn out volumes of briefs and motions but the intricate process ofstructuring these to a win-win situation is what they are incapable of.
Let metell you, intelligence without initiative is useless. Theirs is a workmans’smentality, and we treat them as such. How often do they initiate projects?Never. They are only about their salaries and allowances. They will grow to turnthe profession into a vista for the mediocre...hopefully this will transpireafter my lifetime.

Yetthey shout for equal rights. That in itself is a measure of their superlativeignorance. The first maxim at the Bar is seniority...an age-long exceptionconceeded by the concept of Equality before the Law. What are their options? Tooperate misguidedly and try to win clients without mentorship and make furthermess of the law’s reputation which they are already doing a geat job ofrubbishing? See, I have a son in High School, a precocious dude, and he’s onlyfifteen.. He stands a better chance of making partner in my Firm than many ofthose shoddy young ones. My boy already stands up to me without cowering and never takes no for ananswer, the most essential attribute of a good lawyer. I now believe thatperpetual succession should be advanced in Legal practice only if subsequenttake-overs are from the Principal’s lineage.

Iread of newspaper articles condemning the idea of juniors carrying our bags. Oh,you think we started that practice? No! It is merely an obsequious display whichthe incompetent hand tries make amends with. And now they turn it around tomake us look like slave-drivers. A judgeonce insisted in open court that I address my staff as “colleague”, I retortedthat I would be doing the profession disservice by doing that, as the fellow’scase was so hopeless. I had since convinced myself he would at best function asa paralegal, and routinely assigned him such non-intellectual tasks as....well,carrying my bag. Everyday, I pray for the rascal to resign, but he sits smilingat every thinly veiled insult I throw his way. His numb skull probably managedto register a clause in his employment contract that entitles him to an extramonth’s salary upon terminantion from my side. And I will not voluntarilyfinance the release of that hazard to the streets.

Thefunny thing is that I have witnessed many previously young lawyers metamorphosizeonce they attain their sixth year at the Bar. They are the quickest to scorntheir immediate juniors, they are quick to betray their peers for a few privilegeswe dangle. I enjoy setting them against one another and seeing them fight formy approving nod or thumbs-up. They preen visibly at my slightest compliments andsuspend further talk of salary review or any such ambitions. I deliberatelymake them aware of my assets, and nurture their dog-like loyalties along withtheir dreams of sharing in a huge rush of profit, someday.

Ialso hear they are fighting the worthy efforts to electronically verifyentrants to the legal sphere. In their shallow thinking, they fail to see the prospectsthis has of narrowing competition. Or maybe (as my precocious son pointed out)they are saddled with discomforts that their oftentimes dubious qualificationscoud be called into question.”

Hepaused suddenly. “How long have you been at the Bar?” The truth forced an escapethrough unwilling lips. “Three years sir.” His eyes moved shiftily “Oh, you mustnote that there are a few exceptions to the general. From your intelligent proposal,I think you have a bright road ahead. Here’s my card, if you ever need bettermentoring, we can discuss terms.”

Ialighted, and for once the heat waves of Abuja was welcoming. I stared at theretreating vehicle and slowly released the shreds of his Call-card to the lazy hotwind.

THE END.

First published in Thisday Newspapers: July 19, 2011

The Law has built a Democracy, which thrives without it…

2011-05-24T08:43:00.000-07:00

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“With the deepestrespect, ‘Legal action’, is acontradictory concept” someone once said. I would usually respond with equallysharp retort, but I merely smiled at the jibe. I should smile; the words camefrom one of our high profile clients. It was at one of those who’s-got-more-nerve meetings where ourfirm had just detailed justifications for an upward review of our legal fees,and the clients weren’t buying- at least not without a fight. Fired on by our (shamelessly)obsequious response, (My partner was in fits of laughter) the client continued-“Of course! Lawyers never act. They merely argue over the actions of others- inretrospect.” Here, our smiles froze. His eyes twinkled at our reaction. “Damnablequote no doubt, but you must admit, with an unmistakable ring of truth” Westared limply- Retainer-packages do not usually come as big as this client, afact not escaping his shrewdly narrowed eyes. “Well, Truth is bitter… and who wouldn’t be, when lawyers prefer thecompany of Lies?” This thawed usgreatly, and the meeting momentarily broke up with peals of laughter.

Now, I am reading aboutone of the miraculously rescued Chilean miners, who last year kept us allgripping the seats in our living rooms. The report reads that this miner, JoseOjeda is bitter. He wants his little scribbleback. Please note that at the time of writing, the said scribble was simply a desperatelast act; an agonized shout to a distant world crumpled up in a soiled paper-fragment,a residual stirring of hope. Six months thence, this has changed dramatically.The words “Estamos bien en el refugio los 33”- We are okay in the refuge, 33 ofus- have grown iconic and famed beyond possibilities. Unfortunately for theauthor, the country’s president prefers to display it as a testament of collectiveheroism. He wants it in the national museum- for posterity. Posterity, withawe-widened eyes, who will ask- under whose government was this feat achieved?His name will echo again and again. In its grave a hundred years hence, hisblushing remains will smilingly demur- Oh don’t mention…the pleasure is all mine. But no, Mr. Ojeda wants to bespoilsport and insists “I wrote it, it is mine…and I want it back.”

I cannot help notinghow akin to our lot as lawyers the above scenario is. Of course it can beargued that having planted ourselves as the exclusive access to justice; we deserve the accompanyingbaggage, whatever the hue. We claim to be ultimate life-savers, a last act ofhope tossed to the mercy of the four winds. When promises are not met, whenamiable negotiations fail, and with all the possible retributions forill-advised self-help, the lawyer becomes an option. The client rushes in, desperate lines etchedon the forehead, and pleads and begs. “I want justice!” Ever brimming withbenevolence, the lawyer throws his weight in, and the client is happy. That is,before the journey to his desired destination is assessed in hard figures andcharges. Once that happens, the clientalters his tune… “Pay that much?! For simply filing a few papers, paperscontaining my own actions, and sworn testimony, come on, I want my brief back!”

Sadly, recent eventshave not helped ameliorate the issue. The Law’s inadequacy is exposed, even byits foremost proponents. For instance, how long would a war-crimes tribunal orthe Internal Criminal Court have spent on procedural compliance and other suchlengthy considerations in the matter of the terrorist who the world had untilrecently been laden with? And whathappened? A quick raid, a cursory announcement…closure! Such time-consuminglegal concepts as sovereignty and territory were waved aside; yet justice happened…without the law!

Democracy has become acliché. Almost every nation now practices it. The contemporary quest is now forthe purest blend; a democracy where the rights of persons are held in the absolute, a situation that guaranteesthese rights, over and beyond even the constraints of the law. The people shouldsay when they want to wield their rights, in what form and manner they prefer,and the lawyer has to know his place- a mere interpreter after the fact, andnot the dictator of rules of engagement. It promises a glorious picture; aninformal world of absolute rights and immediate redress…without the law.

It gets even better. Inthis ideal world, redress will be obtainable in any manner preferred by theaggrieved. A bullet to the head, a machete cut, a torched, nay… bombed house, akidnapped spouse; remedies that truly purge one of the bitterness implanted byhis enemy. Lawyers in their hypocrisy label enemies, ‘defendants’ and indulge them with a right of reply, resulting insuch absurdities as reversal on Appeal. Again, please note that a right shouldnever be reversed, it is absolute! The law had everyone chained. It removed theflesh from life, and created intellectual zombies. In the purest democracy, lifewill even become more valuable, because death will be merely fluctuations-in-an-enemy-temperamentaway.

The pure democracy doesnot need the State. The concept of a Stateis a lawyer’s creation. In the ideal world, there is no state; there isonly a state of being. The lawyer inhis craftiness tries to partition humans into small governable units where hecan make a living off them in an arbitrary arrangement of rights and duties. Hetraps them into thinking that remedy for wrong is appropriate only when hedispenses it. He preaches caution and restraint, fostering a timid populationeasier for him to lord over. Hewields a fairness-scale that ignores certain inequalities permitted by nature. Survival is not only meant for the fittest,he yells, eroding the hard-fought terrains of the strong and the fit toaccommodate the weak and the lazy. Modern man thus emasculated, merely exists;a puppet navigated along every stringy whims of the law.

The signs are clear. Theworld is raising a new generation of free-thinkers. These will be led throughthe rigours of the wild fields and the wisdom of the dark streets. Their palmsroundly calloused to blunt the scalding effects of taking the law in their ownhands…and crushing it. Admittedly, the Law has existed these long millennia asthe last hope of the common man. In the new world of a purest Democracy, therewill be no common man; each man is unique, and at liberty to strike home thisuniqueness, with a cudgel.

Returning to Mr. JoseOjeda…when he scribbled the Maydayplea, he rested all his hopes on the only machinery capable of conducting thefar-reaching rescue-operations that bailed him and his friends from the earth’ssepulchral bellies. But, with the mountain air wafting across his face and thedizzying ululations of a cheering throng, he rediscovered his powers to exist-to exist as an individual. His helpless submission to state lapsed, and now, hegrows strong enough to possibly go toe to toe with the president, hisrescuer...for stealing his cry forhelp.

Insightful! The tridumof State, Law and Lawyers may have built and assured the rights of people. Theymay have lifted them off the nightmarish visions of a Hobbesian hell and sustained certain civilization.

But then, thevogue has changed. In the purest democracy, the people dreamily recall the wildimpulses and sweetly base instincts which the fine details of the law haverepressed…ostensibly for their own sustenance- and issue a resonant demand: “Wewant them back!”

THE END

First Published in Thisday Newspapers: May 24, 2011

REALITY-TV MAY YET SAVE THE BAR

2011-03-22T08:05:00.000-07:00

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I am in love with themovie The King’s Speech. It is thebest movie in the world. To be honest though, I have not seen it yet. But everyother person has, and they are all in love with it. I love the movie for whatit achieved. Overnight; reliving the agonizingly gradual mastery of a royal-stutter becomes a massive global tonic.That is pure genius.

However on a closerlook, it can easily move one into a state of introspective stock-taking. Howmany of what we consider our lives’highlights would inspire more than a passing interest from outsiders? Letalone, our mundane struggles. How many times have you pushed your exciting photos into the hands offriends and regaled them with explanatory details on each shot, only to havethem flee at the slightest leeway? How many people genuinely stay awake as yourecount your running battle with ulcer, or your eventual victory over math? Maybeyou would need to be a king first, or maybe it just requires publicity, ofHollywood proportions. (Or even Nollywood these days).

Well, deal with it, allordinary persons. Ordinary persons like me…me?

No, I am not an ordinary person,I am a lawyer. And for one in a profession desperately needy of crowdattention, I suffer even more.

Like every lawyer, Ihave read books, useful books. My brain swims in the famed Pierian Spring. There is very little under the sun that I have notencountered in my studious voyages. I consider myself a talker too, the onewith all the stories and all the jokes. Well, that was before I observed thatthe reputation is restricted to the legal fold.

I had ruled my Uncle’swife an unfortunate nit-wit when I noticed she makes funny faces whenever myback is turned. A detail revealed by the shiny mantel-piece in their living room.Her teenage children are loads smarter; they squeal in glee when I deliver yetanother wicked legal punch-line at dinner, their brains match mine, wavelength-for-wave-length. Or so I thought…Until a few weeks ago: a carelesslyplaced Blackberry, no password, my lawyer-inquisitiveness, and I saw the realsource of their laughter at my jokes: Pings hastily exchanged under the table “Tell me what bores more than a yam beetle: UncleMassai!” That was from Sammy, the one they say aspires to be a rap-artiste.And the sister concurs with a big LOL. I no longer go to my uncle’s. Poor man,no wonder he exited so early; who would bear having his pure genes so pollutedby a spouse of dubious grey-matter.

Again, I digress. Digression,according to my more cerebral audience, is my best trick. “It injects versatility into a conversation” my colleague Sarah hadonce enthused as I blushingly handed her a Legal Opinion I had stayed up allnight to help her prepare. She will go places, that lady.

But back to the topic,it really saddens me to know that if the movie above had been titled “The Lawyer’s Speech”, it would premiereto halls of vacant seats. The tragedy lies in the fact that, truly, if anybodymake speeches worth listening to, Lawyers it should be! But nobody wants tolisten when we talk, unless they absolutely have to.

Our cinemas- thecourtrooms are bare. Even the litigants stay off. I have a feeling tennis would overtake football forpopularity if the use of “court” was minimized. If they must be bought, legalpublications are probably useful only in pharmaceutical stores…as sedatives.

Nobody invites us to beMasters of Ceremonies (I hope they still call them that) at colourful eventsand parties. The core of our social oratory is at funerals- the dead can’t bemore asleep of course.

Worse, that obnoxiouspractice, blogging has pulled the rug further beneath us. Ad hoc Law reportersare now born every day. Not smart, but with access to smart-technology. In halfthe time it takes to flip through our large volumes, they click the downloadand tweet a link, spiced with cheap rhetoric and draw the entire crowd. We havefought bravely, but gradually, even the Law is seduced to the I.T. pavilion.

Yes, we have dealt thehand of living off the combative aspects of human nature, but modern life ismoving for a checkmate. All the jokes are on us, we are colourless, we are dry,we are lonely. Words may have tried,but they are dying. It is the age of abbreviations. No… abbreviations are evengrowing outmoded, people now write in pictorials!

Pictures and TV havechanged reality. Reality shows (Isthere a bigger contradiction in terms!) have come to stay. Sadly, we are barredfrom their juicy reach (no adverts!). But wait a minute…think Boston Legal, and the rest of them, andvoila!

Therein lies our salvation! Reality TV!

They roll out in theirnumbers, subtle brand promos: the Scout, the Debater, the Search, the Heir…Whenyou consider the spark they kindle in our huge population, and the stiffcompetition by professionals to become Apprentices,or even Dragons, it can only go astep worse…The Lawyer.

Procedure: Trigger offa nation-wide search process, sell entry forms, establish a consortium ofbanks, the media and the Bar (no Silks…please). A huge media-covered selectionprocess (this is where the judges come in); and the Lawyer’s Den is ready to beunveiled.

Two dozen youngaspirants. The winner becomes, well…a Lawyer. (The dream prospect of a LawSchool waiver will sell, trust me). Content should be varied, everything thatobtains in the real world would be thrown in. (Lawyers are snubbed because wealways appear larger than life). The show will have it all then, arguments,fights, mischief, romance, conspiracies, parties (not dinners!), scandals…yesscandals sell too; they are an admission of humanness.

Now, unlike whatobtains in the courts where the slightest whisper attracts a contempt-charge,the audience can vote and freely pass comments. Their ratings will also extendto the judges and eviction is the immediate consequence of unpopularity.

Eight long weeks eachedition will last. Five yearly editions; each producing a winner who representsthe universal notion of an ideal lawyer. This personna gets integrated into theprofession and among other prizes, wins an entitlement to vote out any fiveexisting lawyers from the Roll.

As the show grows, theviewers can demand that some existing lawyers be invited, nay, compelled to play. These will endure thesame audience appraisal, and for every edition, twenty three lawyers will be debarred…democratically.

Many years will roll bybefore any impact is noticed from this process. But gradually and surely likethe King’s stutter, the old stock of dryand boring lawyers will pass away. They will be replaced by substitutes who oozemass-appeal, who will re-instill confidence in the Bar. Increased tolerancemeans increased clientele. Law becomes a competitive profession after all intoday’s world.

Time will tell. At theend, lawyers will need no further convincing that life in front of cameras is actuallythe reel deal.

I rest my thesis.

First Published in Thisday Newspapers: March 22, 2011

IT IS TIME TO GET A SUBSTITUTE FOR THE BENCH!

2011-03-01T08:51:00.000-08:00

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Comrades; worthyrepresentatives of the Legislature and the Executive, please pay meheed in this urgent clarion call.

History, aided by thatmeddlesome French Baron (let the man who can, pronounce his last nameunimpeded) has against good judgment pitched us in a state of needless rivalry.Not surprisingly, the wave has struck a right chord with the ever gullible common man.

Of course, many haveignored the Baron’s self-righteous posturing and stuck to the good old methodof merging our powers as one and thesame. Sadly, our State abandoned that progressive course after a tantalizinglyshort-lived experiment and adopted this journey into the grotesque (note how well the word rhymes with the Baron’s last name).A process that stifles the ideal partnership; and the many potentials foreconomy of scale. Who needs checks andbalances when you can get cheques and even more rounded balances withinthis partnership? And who says account-abilitymust be conjoined as one word?

Such ugly phrases as probity, petitions, impeachment, shouldbe extinguished, and Veto put to thesword. Unfortunately, we have stayed silent for so long, and are poised to sufferthe ills of this tragic preference.

To escalate the anomaly,the State provides a Third Arm to overseeour acts! Now, how further denigrating can the situation get, especially whenthis intrusive Arm is immunized with ‘independence’? Yes! You can spend longmonths agonizing over a legislation; which in the ideal partnership, I wouldcheerily assent (especially if it creates yet another Agency to douse the needsof our faithful). And what happens next? It is struck off as null and void, orat best, dealt the patronizing bluepencil treatment. This, by the Arm of busybodies!

Going further, let usnot forget that this Arm, emboldened by its independence from checks, strutsabout with the grossly immodest title, Supreme,affixed to its apex institution. Now, dare any of us speak of a supreme Legislature or a supreme Executive and see if the commonman (that accursed lot!) will not instantly yelp of a coup?

And talking of a coup; ifonly those uniformed fellows constrained their emasculation to this Third Arm, theywould provide a panacea…No! They are not an option!

And yet another libertythis Arm takes: Does anybody get elected to positions therein? No! They simplybrow-beat us in a ratification exercise that is at best, mere formality. But wemust necessarily endure that grueling process of courting voters, and worse, alsosuffer the humiliation of tribunals under the same Arm!

The bitter truth staresus in the face: We are powerless before them! They co-opt the common man’ssympathies by sniffling that they are the weakest in the midst of two bullies,and that loathsome horde wields unquestioning mass support for them as aresult.

But comrades; are allhopes dead?

Recently our State hasbeen bedeviled by happenings that can only be interpreted as ‘signs of thetimes’

These happenings havetaught me that signs of the times arenot usually cataclysmic horrors. Sometimes they wear a cheery look; confirmingthe projections of a beatific hereafteras a quite feasible possibility after all.

Have you not noticed? Theyhave risen against one other, our common foe! Their pretences at sainthood haveworn thin, and revealed the typical humanwithin. They now fight for the prize, and how brazen their battle is! Namecallings, blackmail, calumny; the works! Those of you who cherish a good bottlecan agree that there is no bench-mark for a typical bar-room scuffle. Thesefolks are no different.

In the past, theyaccused us of corruption, but this has grown stale to the common man. Thus, thesheer novelty of this in-fighting will overwhelm them. There is truly nospectacle as rapturous as the sight of a fallen angel.

So, what do we do? Standand watch? No no!

We shall inject a finespray of oil to the troubled fires, and let the common man see that his last hope has crumbled from hidden rot.In our magnanimity, we shall certainly not leave them hope-less. We will simplymake them hope for less, henceforth.

First step: From theupper chambers of the Legislature, we shall instigate an outcry, and makeostensible moves to ‘get to the root of the matter.’ Oh, yes there is an intermediate Council thatwill scream of independence, but riding on the dazed dismay of the common man,we shall prevail.

Mind you, they willkick and fight, because while our immunity is not absolute, theirs continuetill death. Whenever they swivel that gavel, they feel like gods.

They will claw andbite. They will brandish the grundnorm as a shield, and lead the entire pack ofthe unruly bar baying for blood.

And this is when wewin! We shall yell that there is a loophole which the system has hidden for solong. Who will judge the judges? Do we fold our hands and let the sanctity ofthe state fall under the weight of life-time immunity? And we shallannounce to the common man: “No, brethren,the powers to judge them is neither in the hands of Legislature nor the Executive,they are entirely yours! Yours, Mr. Common man!”

The common man (in his fortunategullibility) will nod maniacally at this logic which for once will empower him,not through the arguments of a counsel, but directly. We shall spew forthflowery speeches of betrayal. We might even get a courageous commoner to self-immolate to the rhythm of ourchants: “They are supreme! They areinfallible! They have betrayed your trust!”

And the fires willstart burning. For once in our half-century, we shall be blameless of the usualcynical accusations. We will become the poor misunderstood victims, who do allthe thankless work, while the Arm grows fat on its bench… merely interpreting.

No time will be moreopportune to rekindle our union.

All this while, ourchants will rise in crescendo: “Theelections are your will! Let the numbers show your supremacy, not some Supremeinstitution that blocks your right despite possible stirrings ofdissatisfaction!”

And you know common manis a sucker for clichés. So we shall coin a few: Have you made for ourselves small gods, in whose Case there is No Appeal?

We shall tell them howflexible administrative tribunals are; or better still the ideal out-of court settlement: membership of the rightparties. We shall teach them the right allegiances, and instruct them on howcompromise is preferable to years of drawn out bitterness and expenses incurredin seeking dubious justice.

So now, let the warbegin! Let the press flow in grimy inks of red alert. Let the chambers of theLegislature reverberate in shocked disbelief. Let the Executive issue statementsof grief and sorrow.

The good Lord, in hiswisdom gave us humans two arms, to function in symmetry. A third arm is clearlyan excess!

Remember, the commonman is soccer crazy too, so we shall complete the seduction with a well couchedslogan:

“It is time to get aSubstitute for the Bench!”

Thank you all!

First Published in Thisday Newspapers: March 1, 2011

Understanding the Rights of a Leftist…

2011-02-08T08:55:00.000-08:00

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A quiet lawyer is a classic oxymoron. Better still, a curiosity. Itgets even curiouser and curiouser (apologiesMiss Alice) when the quiet lawyer is also… a lady.

She sat alone, unmovedby the surrounding din. No it wasn’t a riot; it was break-time at another ofthose Law conferences. I had just shaken off the claws of a friendly colleague, and was trying toclear the buzz his circuitous arguments had implanted in my eardrums.

She sat. No drinks, nosnack. Young and well-dressed; but with that subtle wall of frost thatconstrained admirers to a safe distance.

I pulled out the chair beside her, ignoring the fact that I was beingignored. With these private persons, the prospect of good company is usuallylimited, but when they are lawyers, the novelty is gripping. I silentlysavoured it…

‘I think that lastspeaker was way off the mark, don’t you?’ The voice startled me. I turnedsideways and encountered cool brown eyes.

‘I beg your pardon.’ Ifailed woefully at replicating her poise.

Her voice was strangelyeven. It took the shine off the huskiness, giving an oddly ventriloquist feel. ‘Imean the SAN that spoke of Democracy asthe last hope of civilization. His premise was all wrong. Democracy as wesee it today is actually a scam on human rights and good governance’

‘I find it hard toagree with you’ I smiled. ‘Everybody knows Democracy is oftentimes a huge painin the neck. But exploring its alternatives may not leave one a neck in thefirst place.’

She smiled too. ‘Do youreally believe that? Or is it becauseour profession has no place in any other government system, that our voices usuallysoar the highest in eulogizing the so-called government of the people?’

‘It is not merely so-called, it is real. Government by a functionalConstitution’ I was gradually getting fired up.

‘Oh come on! You and I knowthat the Constitution merely stipulates the rules of engagement between the Stateand the rest. And the scales are notequally balanced.’

‘Again, I disagree. Thespirit of the Constitution comes alive through us; the lawyers.’

‘Really?’ It was ahusky whisper of mockery.

‘Yes.’ I chimed. ‘Our practice is actuallysummarized in the phrase: rights and their protection.’

‘Oh come on,what rights?’

‘I will not tella lawyer what rights are…you know them yourself’ I was getting irritated at herdeliberate aloofness.

‘That is thepoint.’ Her tone remained oddly even. ‘Rights as we know them today areactually part of the grand conspiracy to deny them’

‘Now, you havelost me’

‘It’s ok. The pictureis all there, but you choose not to see it. The Constitution you hail does not containany right which is not immediately snatched back in the next sentence. Take forinstance, the Right to Life. What does it protect you from? Violent death only, not so?’ It does notadd anything to your life, and thus offers no protection from death bystarvation or neglect. It dangles your basic needs tantalizingly before you,and then goes ahead to brand them non-justiciable.Humans need food, shelter and clothing. If you cannot provide these, you should at least give them education tocurb their natural resistance. Deny them this as well, and the State sits on alandmine.’ She paused to flick a stray strandof hair from her face. ‘Now, you talk of Fair hearing. The common man walksinto a courtroom, and watches the judge throw away certain reprieve fortechnicalities. If he raises a protesting voice, he runs the risk of a newpunishment… for contempt. Yes, that is how much his value is held in contempt;at the whim of the Bench.’

‘There is a right toAppeal, remember’ I quickly threw in.

‘Of course there is,with leave of the court.’ Shescoffed. ‘Back to your touted rights; I can toil, save and own land, no doubts.But in the same breath, that right is snatched from me on whatever grounds theExecutive of the day deems public policy.’

‘The general rights of societyoutweigh that of a mere individual; that needs not be over flogged.’

‘And who is ‘society’if not a conglomerate of the individual sub-units? That is the precise problemwith your Democracy. It focuses onthe majority…and the voices of the minority might as well be the clucks ofchickens.’

‘But there is a specifiedConstitutional medium for the minority to take over power: Votes! And we are athand to protect these, even post-elections’

‘You merelyrecite the rote; that in itself being the bane of the lawyer. A bloated senseof importance at the crucial services we deliver to humanity makes us deaf tothe creaks and groans underneath the system. And it continues, until the entireworld is afire.’

‘I can’t believeyou…you actually preach anarchy?’ I mustered my most self-righteous glare.

‘I don’t need to. It isalready happening. Today the world burns; disaster is no longer remote, but comesin a chain reaction. Info-tech breaks down territorial borders and reveals the globalmaster-plan of devious leadership. Apocalyptic writings on the Wall are nolonger supernatural, they are on Facebook. Support is no longer built bydispersible crowds on hidden street corners, it is built online…’

‘And theseglobal arsonists; what do they advocate...?’

‘A return ofpower to the individual; the State has failed.’

‘A turn to scatteredfragments of selfish interests…?’

‘No, that iswhat presently obtains in the State.The new trend is for people toactually rule themselves.’

‘Funny, but ispresent rulership composed of spirits?’

‘No. But in itscurrent design, the state is a faceless institution, and hides the evilcomponents. It needs to be given a multiple face: everyone personally accountablefor their acts.’

‘A voyage intothe absurd…what next will you advocate… kill all lawyers?’

‘No, no. Justhave their tongues out- Cicerosque’

‘That’s notfunny’

‘Well, Justice willbe better served in silence. The noise we bring gets distracting.’

‘So how willpeople enforce their rights when lawyers grow mute?’

‘Simple. Bycommon agreement’

‘No umpires?’

‘None’

‘Fists andknives then…?’

‘At least thoseare more honest than stabs of manipulative counsel and pliant judges’

‘You know, I canhave you arrested for these views.’

‘Go ahead then…Youonly prove my point better: Mr. Human Rights’

‘So how do youpropose to solve society’s issues in this new freer world?’

‘Simple. No moreelections. No Executive. No National Assembly. A decentralized referendum’

‘Still a rule ofthe majority, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, of realpeople not congressmen.’ I had no answer to that.

She continued. ‘Thepolice disbanded, armed forces, same. If we don’t have them, we won’t needthem.’

‘Oh, paradise onearth then..? You describe post-Armageddon?’

‘No, it iseasily achievable in our lifetimes. The State steadily crumbles our humanness.The movement is to ensure something is left.’Her eyes had acquired a glaze.

‘Maybe we needto get back to the hall’

‘May I have yourcard?’

‘Oh…I’ve run outof them…so sorry’ (My wallet swarmed with my business cards)

‘Ok then’ Shewhispered airily. ‘See you at the other side.’

I stood, andpolitely waited for her. She stretched under the table and picked up a set ofcrutches and struggled up. I caught a glimpse through the long skirt- her twolegs were withered.

She propped herselfon the crutches and smiled up at me. ‘Oh,don’t look so stricken. Happened when I was still a teenager. Mum and dad couldnot afford the surgery, and the State said: sorry, Healthcare is not a right.’

I stood, staringat her retreating figure and listening to the fading click of iron crutches onthe marbled tiles.

THE END

First published in Thisday Newspapers: February 8, 2011

INSERTING A LEGAL ‘CLAUSE’ TO SANTA...

2010-12-21T07:56:00.000-08:00

Illustration by Sugabelly

Nobodybelieves in Santa anymore...or maybe, it is just that nobody is courageousenough to voice out that belief. How can we talk of outgrowing ‘stage Santa’ whenexperience shows that free gifts become scarcer with the advancing years; andthus more treasured. I think that, as surely and as inexplicably as snow (andharmattan) punctually herald Christmas-tide; that portly model of genialitymust be given his right of place during the celebrations.

Sadly,Santa in the face of dwindling popularity has either uncloaked and transformedto a normal, unhappy mortal; or simply soared to yet undiscovered galaxies ofthe North Pole. Or maybe still...has retreated resignedly to the suburbs of ourimaginations.

Butin truth, it is difficult to deal with his absence. The yearly re-creations ofhis image buttress the reality that we cannot use maturity as an excuse to wish away Father Christmas; and thus; murder Christmas. Therefore, if only we arebold enough to strain the borders of rationality, Santa can return again...and graceour world with his pleasant deep throated laughter filling us once more with theharmless innocent cravings that have grown extinct in an increasinglyhumourless world...

Butthen; we reckon without the Law...and Lawyers.

Thereare certain legal questions that would need to be successfully addressed beforeSanta is re-admitted in today’s hyper-civilization.

Already,the odds do not help his case. He wears a cloak and a...wig. And he steers all attention to himself with their brightcolours, as opposed to the grim dourness of the lawyers’. Maybe that explainsthe origins of the traditional closure of Law Courts at Yuletide. As themelodious bells of Pied-Piper Santa introduce an enchanting truce in human relations,lawyers are compelled to involuntary idleness. Surely, you do not deludeyourself that the religious significance of the season extends to the legalfolk as well.

So the cross examinations commence- Whatare the contents of those bulging bags? What statutory authority issued the ‘standardtesting’ for them? And, being Imports; have they been properly taxed andnecessary Duties paid? For example, if some daft believer wishes for a fairlyused car, would Santa’s obliging the request not tantamount to smuggling? ...Santais a smuggler then...? If that isestablished as a fact, of course he would be put away for a long time.

Oh!Smart fellow; he tries to evade further taxations by couching his goods as‘gifts’. Ok; let’s see how he prepares proper deeds of gift to his teemingfans. He would need a lawyer for that; right? Can’t the gift clause be defeated by the perfectly logical argument thatinstalling a week-long holiday in his honour is adequate consideration by therecipients, thus creating multiple contractual relationships? The follow-upquestion once this is conceded as fact would then be: Do the goods meet theirdescription as contained in the respective wish-lists? Is there adequatefitness for purpose and merchantable quality? What are the Insurance covers,especially in the light of his precarious delivery mode? What jurisdiction dothe parties submit to if there are conflicts? Does Santa’s native originreflect a Reciprocal Judgement enforcement concord with those of the various offerees?

Furtherprecautions would also be imperative. First, the reindeer must be withdrawn! Its use constitutes a violation of varioussovereign airspaces; and until a comprehensive international framework isdeveloped to cover UFOs, Santa must fly in air-planes. He must endure theroutine of body scans; and his bags thoroughly rifled through. Sorry; no wishesof cologne, deodorant, shampoo or liquid stain-removers this year.

Now,this is actually where his problems would only have started. For one, his ancestry is doubtful; though heclaims to be Dutch. Whatever though!Within our shores, he is an expatriate. Where is his Business permit? What Visa does he bear? Has he been cleared bythe National Investment Promotion Commission? Has the issue of Expatriate quotabeen addressed? How many indigenousemployees does he propose to recruit, considering the inevitability ofregistering a corporate entity?

Andnow, that dubious mode of ingress he adopts...floating in through chimneys! Whathonest man does that? And this, while the household sleeps! There are Legalprovisions on house breaking and burglary; and he should not literally soarabove the Law!

ChildRight activists would also have a few things to say about the practice of cuddlingkids on his laps and buying them over with gifts of candy...all the while witha twinkle in the eye. Viewed with the discerning eyes of a lawyer, that ho-ho-ho roar and belly-smacking attaina disturbing dimension at such scenarios. Therefore, he needs to satisfy beyondany doubts that he is not a previous offender.

AndAlas! He wears five golden rings...on his left hand and is known to frequentlyhum a tune about Nine-Ladies-Dancing. Hemust issue authentic certifications on exactly how many Mrs Claus-es are in thepicture. While it would be naked contempt to celebrate a monogamous faith witha polygamist in the lead, the Lawyers’ concern is the Matrimonial Causes Actwhich by virtue of his preferred season of appearance is irrebuttably impliedto bind him.

Now-those numerous trees that are bulldozed at his behest; complete with shiny decorativerays of dubious radiation levels? He would need to scale through proper EnvironmentalImpact Assessments and other relevant statutory tests before such practice isallowed to continue.

Finally,it is likely that the custom of writing Wish Letters will be reawakened,complete with other options enabled by the Information technologies: mobiletelephony and other wireless media. It would be suggested that a stakeholderenquiry on what these portend for Cybersecurity efforts of various states beheld. There is no telling what items a terrorist group will prefer; and Santawillingly oblige. He should therefore agree unreservedly for round-the-clock surveillanceto be mounted on his every correspondence.

Now,this is the moment the reader tosses the paper aside with a snort, and amuttered curse on kill-joy gentlemen of the Law.

Well,well, have your celebrations, but there is an overriding obligation to the rulesof modern society...and its cogent fears.

Andyou must concur that the above requisites do not substantially derogate fromthe traditional Santa-clause.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

Published in Thisday Newspapers:December 21, 2010- http://www.thisdaylive.com/articles/inserting-a-legal-clause-to-santa-/71622/

In defence of the Prosecuting Counsel...

2010-11-23T07:51:00.000-08:00

Google images

Notbeing a Litigation Lawyer has many hazards. From the embarrassing inability toindependently drape oneself in the elaborate legal toilette; to the pitifulimage one presents as cerebral analyses of court orders, motions and certioraris erupt in the gathering oflawyers.

Andmore humiliatingly; you are de-barred quite literally during court proceedingsand have to share seats with the intellectual hoi polloi in the public gallery. You do not even get to announce appearanceand merely get introduced as ‘legal officer’.
My best efforts at injectingevery importance into that title usually fall flat, in the face of my moreappropriately costumed colleagues. I try to remedy this by taking seats closestto the bar- that inner enclave incourtrooms, that demarcates the real actors from the spectators- and wear apoker-face to sieve the class of commoners I would be constrained to sit withfor the day. Again, this ploy fails woefully when the court is filled; alitigant (or litigant’s family) wedges in beside you- ‘Abeg, bros u fit shift small...?’ The nerve!
Hesettles in, and then flashes you a wide grin of plebeian camaraderie whichinterprets as ‘we may not be so learned,but at least we share their court’. Most times the Judge chooses this periodto appear and thus cuts short the biting adjectives you would have instantly deployedin cutting the oaf to size. And he will continue the mannerisms throughout theproceedings; laughing loudly at wise-cracks, and nodding vigorously in your direction,‘Kai! these lawyers are too much! Mybroda, you dey follow me see, so?’ That’s another big disadvantage of notbeing in litigation: I cannot determine offhand whether self defence avails forunprovoked verbal assault!

Icome into the court today and brace myself for yet another bad day; moreso asthere are about six criminal casesbefore ours. And since misfortunes never come singly, the court is filled and Iam squeezed between a horde of sniffling, teary eyed females; apparently relativesof one of the accused persons.

Strugglingto mitigate the discomfort; I let my eyes settle on the state counsel; who by the way is in charge of all the criminalprosecutions for the day. I naturally assume that being involved for so long inthe business of jailing people, and advocating for the maximum justiceuntempered by mercy with a blood-thirsty tenacity would leave the averageprosecutor gnarled and wizened. I generally picture them as grumpy old fellowswith bulging red eyes and thickly veined necks; the grim reapers. But no, the statecounsel on duty today, rose, erect in healthy youthfulness and smiled, Isearched for signs of morbidity beneath, none. He had all the transparentcheeriness of a fulfilled worker...and in a firm voice that carried through allsections of the muted chambers, proceeded on his mission for the day.

Iinstantly warmed up to him, but I reckoned without one of the women snifflingbeside me (It turns out she is spouse to one of the accused- charged for somecomplicated transaction gone awry) ‘Godwill punish this man for me! The wicked will never go unpunished!’ she kepthissing under her breath, shaking her knees in an ominous rhythm. I quicklysilenced her with a muttered warning of her inevitable fate if the judge overheardher. Smart woman, she evidently understands that marriage vows do not cover “In freedom and in chains...” andpromptly shut her mouth.

Shelooked quite schooled and well groomed, so I was curious at her reaction andwalked up to her during the short recess. She was leaning on a wall, haughtilydisengaged from a small crowd of murmuring well-wishers:

‘Madam;I am a lawyer. Please accept my sympathies, but your husband’s case doesn’tlook so bad. And there is really no need getting all worked up at theprosecuting counsel; he is just doing his job’

‘Hisjob?!’ She blazed ‘Why does he struggle so persistently to have them behindbars? Is that what he went to school to go and study Law for? His mates areselling properties and sealing bigdeals while he makes a wretched living from bringing out the worst in humannature...’

‘Howso, madam?’

‘Can’tyou see? Look at that old judge! He appears quite compassionate, but that wickedcounsel is quick to raise fresh objections and suppress any stirrings of pity hemay have...and you say he doesn’t take it personal!’

‘Madam,you judge him harshly. Somebody has to maintain the necessary balance ofmorality within the society, and it cannot be achieved without the fear of legalreprisal.’

‘Whythen does he flog it too hard, why?’ Her voice broke again.

‘Becausejustice must be obtained at whatever cost...’ I was treading dangerous grounds.

‘Evenat the cost of a man’s happiness? Isthat the horrible thing they teach you people in Law School?’ She shook herhead sadly.

‘No.We learnt how to employ our skills in various field, and we use it largely tochase money and glory. But that man you abuse is more courageous and selflessthan most of us and uses his purely for justice’

‘Itis not courage... he just wants the easy protection of government work’

‘Youmay be right, madam...but imagine if he weren’t there...every thief, arsonistand rapist will have their way and the Law will be helpless. He sets societalorder in motion...’

‘Whydoesn’t he leave it to the police...?’

‘Doyou in all honesty prefer ‘Police Justice...?’

Shepaused awhile. ‘Well, I admit, that sounds like a contradiction. But I think being a state counsel is the scumof Law Practice. I can’t help my intense ill-feelings towards him; and I amsure all the relatives of the people he sends to jail are united in thatsentiment...how terribly burdened his soul will be!’

‘Heis already over-burdened with the standard of proof the law requires of him...’

‘Which is?’

‘Establishingguilt beyond reasonable doubt...andthese expensive lawyers you have hired to defend your husband are there to makethat unattainable. So the odds are, they will plant adequate doubt in thejudge, and your husband walks away, free.’

‘ButI know my husband...he is not a badperson.’

‘Thecounsel shares your opinion no doubt...but, you see, he deals with facts...’

‘Andfact differs from truth...?’

‘Factis visible truth’

‘Godknows my husband is innocent; if you lawyers were more inspired by religion,you would not treat a man’s life and freedom merely as a matter of logic...you would hand it over to theSupreme Being...’

‘ButMadam...we already did that. Didn’t your husband swear an oath...? And Iguarantee you; all the Prosecution witnesses would as well. So, the Court isactually convinced that they all say the truth, unless of course they areinsufficiently afraid of the Higher Powers they believe in...’

Shewas silent for some time...

‘Butwhy can’t he just deliberately lose cases? It does not reduce his salary! Ordoes he get compensated in some diabolic arrangement of pay as you jail...

‘Or hang...as the case may be.’ I smiled

‘Youmock me?!’ She turned crimson andadvanced threateningly.

‘Notat all madam’ I held out placating hands ‘What I mean is that, he is the mosthonest of all lawyers because his worth is not measured by the money he ispaid; nor by interests or stake in property or percentage of damages. He doesit for justice. You are feeling this way because you are a direct party. ButJustice is not emotional...’

Shegave me a long stare, and walked out.

Backin the court, she switched seats and stayed as far away from me as she could. Aneedless enemy; for my reckless defence of somebody I never even cared about. Ilooked up and my eyes caught the prosecuting counsel. He sat calmly, adjustinghis collar and leafing through his books. For the first time, I feltcomfortable in my own skin as a ‘legal impostor’ within Justice’s hallowedchamber. My predicament is by far outweighed by that of this outcast in the eyes of many; who daily bearsthe heavy yoke of convincing society against its wishes, that it is as yet farfrom ideal...

THE END

First published in Thisday Newspapers: November 23, 2010

LAWYERS HAVE GONE OUT OF FASHION

2010-10-05T08:00:00.000-07:00

He sat poker faced, anolder man, methodically sipping from his glass, not speaking. I had his full attention and maximized themoment. Speaking in slow, tailored tones I struggled with the alcohol which wasthreatening to inspire me to more spiritedand less dignified submissions. I cloaked my opinions with a generous dose oflegalese, and the phrases resounded, weighty, sage-like. This little trick hasnever failed to work when I’m baiting a potential client.
Furtive, sideway glances always revealed theirlips slightly agape, eyes swimming in the advanced stages of hypnotic awe. How comeso much knowledge is reposited in such a young lad! I would suddenly pausein mid-sentence and knot my brows, shaking my head slightly as if silentlydebating with an inner instructor. At such moments, the catch in their breathsis almost audible, they would hang onto the silence, and when I spoke again, itwould be in whispers. They would strain forward, not daring to interrupt,desperate to catch every syllable. Then with a bored expression, I wouldmention my fee. Enveloped in the aura of my erudition, they never haggled…

But I seemed to havelanded an uncommon fish today. The gentleman kept an unwavering stare on myface. My punch-lines did not even elicita nod, my wise-cracks sounded hollow. I started feeling slightly ridiculous andquickly blurted out my fee without the attendant rituals. That was when hesmiled…He smiled with all the warmth of an air-conditioned igloo, and the frozenwords rolled off his tongue, briefly: ‘Don’t be silly, boy’. This affront stungsome heat into me, and I unleashed a withering denunciation on people sobloated by their own ignorance, they do not appreciate the enormity of alawyer’s job. I waited for a reaction, none.
He curled his lips downwards inanother of those ghastly smiles and condescendingly breathed ‘I am a lawyertoo, my boy…don’t look so combative. I have practised law for years, here andoutside the country, but overcome by the sham of it all, I left, and veeredinto business, occasionally lifting young lawyers from the starvation line byoffering them jobs I don’t really need done.’

He must have read theretort bubbling in my chest… ‘I admire your enthusiasm, but my boy (why doesthis Siberian keep calling me that!) save up your energies for some worthyideal, lawyers are going out of fashion. Forget about the bright colors of ourspeech and language, these merely disguise our shadowy grasp of the tools ofmodern living.

Who is the corporatelawyer today? Those charlatans at CAC? Lugging multiple files and purporting to:(He made his voice squeaky in mimicry) “Notjust incorporate your company sir, we shall also advise on the best strategyfor share-holding and directorship.” I humor them most times, acting like alayman. I would say… “No, no don’t worry, I don’t really need the company foranything serious, it’s just to chase contracts.”

Then you hear their Ohsand Ahs… “But sir, you will still need toclearly enunciate your Objects clause in a manner that would clearlycommunicate your adeptness”… abeg abeg abeg, like that fellow, Uti wouldsay. Yes! I watch Big Brother Africa! Those guys are more real than this charadewe call a profession. Which adeptness?, Do you not know that unschooled BusinessCentre operators have grown more adept at crafting MEMOS and ARTICLES, whilethe corporate lawyer remainsstagnated in his big words, ignorant even of how to format documents onMicrosoft Word.

And the so-calledEstate Lawyers? How do their job details differ from the ‘agents-on-the-hustle’which this town is festooned with? One of them came to my newly completed houseat Maitama the other day. Of course I kept a straight face, though I recognizedhim as one of those always loitering around while work was in progress. Helooked different of course, a new jacket, a borrowed car, and crispy Call-cards.Yes sir? “I wish to introduce our dynamiclaw practice to you sir. Our special practice focus is on Property managementand …”
“Ok, so what services would you offer me?” ‘He instantly grewbreathless.’ “A myriad sir, Further toensuring that you are not cheated out of the aesthetics of this choice location,we would utilize our best efforts to generate the most suitable clientele in thelikely event that you would wish to place the accommodation on the public domain…”and ‘they’ proceeded to mention a preposterous amount as Legal fees. “Ok, you mean you want to help me andlook for tenants?” ‘I asked. He looked taken aback.’ “Sir, we don’t put it so crudely”

“How crude do you want it? Is itnot percentage you want? You want to bemy caretaker, not so? Do you bear inmind that your competitors, the self trained estate agents are asking for amere tenth of the amount you mention? And they would even help me enforce paymentfrom my tenants the street-way ifneed be” ‘Of course he slunk off, he met the wrong mugu. Yes! Mugu, the Lawis a fraud. Wetin Lawyers dey do sef?’He suddenly switched to pidgin. ‘Nothing! That’s what lawyers do. They simplyposition themselves around every transaction and trumpet that none can becompleted without their aid. Lies!

They propose to draftan agreement for you, carrying on like they will lose a minute’s sleep over it,and charge you millions. Millions! For the mechanical routine of riflingthrough their antique volumes, duplicating time-worn principles, with theirunique vocabulary as the only original input. Some daft SAN came the other day(I gasped at the blasphemy) and asked for tens of millions to file my Motion onNotice. In his arrogance he scribbled an invoice, winking conspiratorially thatevery smart business man had to be silky.I found it hilarious, because even if I lost that case, the plaintiff’s claimis not up to half of what the swaggering clown charged.’ I caught myselfnodding.

‘When I go to a hospital, the medical personnelmanipulate machines, concoct medication and invariably fetch me actual relief(as opposed to Legal relief, which islargely imaginary). The engineer builds a bridge; I walk on it and marvel. Haveyou ever seen the engine of a ship? That, to me is the climax of human thinking.Using the brain to make creations, and effect practical changes.

So, my boy, before youget to those millions, you have to wait till next year, when the electionpetitions will open the floodgates. Make the most of it while you can, becausevery soon, even the politicians will grow wiser and understand that the outcomeremains a gamble nonetheless, unaffected by the drama you guys bring to thecourts.

You people have evenlost your footing on the practice of Chargeand Bail. Detainees now pay directly to DPOs…’

I immediately had tointerrupt…

He smiled again andlifted his drink. This time, his eyes actually glinted. He signaled the waiter… ‘One more bottle for Mr.Okafor, please.’ Leaning forward he whispered, ‘At least, lets both make thebest of the Bar tonight.’

- published in Thisday Newspapers: October 5, 2010- http://www.thisdaylive.com/articles/lawyers-have-gone-out-of-fashion-/77338/

The High-tech Lawyer: an Oxymoron

2010-07-27T08:37:00.000-07:00

Google images

Not a few Lawyers (andJudges) look at the persistent incursion of modern technology in our unique lives and wish that the wholerubbish will fast-track on a self destruct mode and burn itself out entirely!The age-long mystery of our profession is fast being deleted. These days, a randomlay man inserts a phrase on Google search for five minutes and proceeds toengage you in a discourse on interlocutory injunctions.
Tragically, he may evencome up with better points, complete with international jurisdictionalcomparisons! So much then for the decade of legal training, largely spentlugging tower-high ancient texts. The ultimate reward of the Bar, whichconsists exclusively of holding sway with words and befuddling awestruck lesserminds, painfully slips off our grasp. Now, as if these irritations are notenough, some members of our own flock have even gone ahead to brand themselves ITLawyers!

I think this puts Justice Onwuzurumba’s wrathearlier this morning in its proper context.

We were in courtenduring his particularly tremulous monotone, while our respective clients literallyslept on their various rights. Then aloud beep! That unmistakable ping signaling a Blackberry notification. The accompanying silence was deafening, asthe bespectacled eyes of M’Lord were instantly lit with raging flames. ‘Thatwas a phone that rang, wasn’t it?’ he drawled with glacial calm. We all satmute, except of course for the few SANs that looked back with theatricallyshocked expressions at this sacrilege from the Bar’s pedestrian section. Theyproceeded to mutter their disapproval but M’Lord screamed them down, (storms certainlyhave their bright spots) repeating his question in a more Siberian intonation.
Surely, the ice in his voice must have been the cause of such terriblequivering in every young lawyer in the room. ‘I will not hesitate to dock thelot of you for contempt, if the owner of the device that just disturbed mycourt is not immediately brought to my notice’. Who could question his powersto wield such a stick, considering that current legislation on contempt is as long (or short) as the Judge’s temper.Well, everyone was spared testing that possibility as a trembling young wig staggeredup and in a strangled voice admitted guilt in a flurry of bows. So much forhaving a Bold .

M’Lord fixed him with a stare and motioned himtowards the bench.

‘You dare to keep your phoneon in my court?!’(If the circumstances were friendlier, it would have beenreassuring to know that his Lordship’s voice was capable of some form of animationafter all.)

‘Yes my Lord, I mean,sorry my Lord’ Mr. all-a-quiver blurted out.

‘You RECEIVE phonecalls while I sit!!!

‘No my Lord, I would dono such thing my Lord, it was merely my Facebook notification, my Lord…’

‘And that means…?’

“My client, sir…yourLordship…I just received notification on my Blackberry that my client has sentin a list of documents relevant to the present suit sir…my Lord, sir.’

‘I see.’ M’Lord letdrop a wry smile. ‘You are able to browse with your phone?’

Unsure of the import ofthe query, the poor counsel could only nod weakly. The rest of the lawyers suckedin their breaths, dreading to exhale. The old Justice never failed to sufferfools. Whether he did so gladly, his perpetually dour visage would neverreveal.

‘A young wig andalready grown so irreverent of the law to go on Facebook while my court holds!’

‘No my Lord, I was noton the network… I just received notification when he sent it…Regrettably Iforgot to switch it on silent mode.’ (There was suddenly a subtle scent ofsoiled pants)

‘Listen to how much ofa serious lawyer you paint yourself to be.’ The Justice hissed. ‘You build yourcase from a social network?’

‘No my Lord, what heposted me on Facebook is a link that leads to another web page where I can getthe materials’ It must have been the flames in his eyes, but I noticed thathere, His Lordship’s face grew slightly beclouded.

‘You see…’ He swung arigid fore-finger at the court. ‘I keep saying it, the standard is falling! Everyday it is falling! In our time we stayed awake devouring volumes of books.Books, well researched and written by verifiable professionals. These days youall flee to the internet bringing in quotes from dubious sources. The law hasnever been a profession of convenience; it requires the most painstakingefforts. What do we have now? A situation where a man professed to the nobilityof it all chooses to bring the junk of a teenage past-time into our temple!’

‘But My Lord…’ thecounsel began, but a collective gasp instantly smothered the rest of hisprotest.

‘And the impudence! Hetalks back at me! He feels so ahead-of-the-times, he forgets his place! Let metell you, I was a lawyer for 20 years before ascending to the Bench, where Ihave conscientiously given another 25 years to this profession. I have seentechnologies come and go, each seeking to outdo the other in rattling the law.But here we have stood firmly against the bandwagon effect, the few amendmentsto our laws being unnecessary concessions by alarmist legislators. You sithere, an untested greenhorn feeling technology savvy and bristling with flimsy modernity…The law is not a modernprofession! It is the most ancient and conservative of orders. We have no needfor the likes of you, and I will not fail to precipitate your ignonimous route to the exit. All casesfor today are hereby stood down, and counsel shall immediately proceed to thedock to satisfy this court with reasons why he should not suffer a convictionfor contempt in my court!

……………….. …………………………. ……………………….

In cases like this, thecamaraderie of lawyers is exceptional. Pleas and entreaties…Chastisement andreproach were fervently recommended over the shame of conviction. My Lord, mercy… he is just a first offender...andthe noose eventually lifted over the counsel’s neck.

I was initially shockedby the Judge’s negative passion, not that one expects civil treatment from a person bent on creating a criminal. But onfurther reflection, I guess he did what he should. He performed his role, theLaw’s defender against the impetuous kicks of technology. If the lawcompromises just a bit, the wave of further revolutionary intrusions would belimitless.

Well, for the timebeing, I breathe easier, having only been deprived the use of my Blackberry asa lesser punishment. But for as long as I live, I will keep trying to unravelthe silent plea behind the judge’s anger as I stood before him.

In the meanwhile, let’sgo post a new comment on Facebook: TODAY, I WAS ALMOST CONVICTED FOR CONTEMPT!

END.

Published in Thisday Newspapers: July 27, 2010- http://www.thisdaylive.com/articles/is-the-high-tech-lawyer-an-oxymoron-/82405/

IF IT IS NOT LITIGATION, IT IS NOT LAW…?

2010-06-08T09:16:00.000-07:00

Google Images

My mind’s made up; I amgoing back to litigation! I was at one of those ‘Legal’ conferences where theonly thing that kept you awake was the very struggle to keep your eyes openamidst the bland, jargon-ridden chunks of verbosity. The massive attendance showedthe extents lawyers can go, to get a good sleep. In my quest for more animate diversion,I picked up the programme of events again; puckering my brows in studiedconcentration for the benefit of the present speaker whose eyes for someuncanny reason always fell on me. The programme promised more hours of speechesand roundtable discussions ahead, nightmare! But wait, one item stood out ofthe long list of dreary events, directly aligned to Lunch. (Talk of peas in apod) It was also the simplest term on the entire document: NETWORKING…hmmm…

Unconsciously, my eyesskimmed the crowd to gauge the prospects along that line. Directly beside mewas a bunch of oldies in ill tailored jackets, scribbling away and nodding furiouslyin turns at the speaker’s every monotone. I had blanked them out entirely whenthey broke into a noisy argument before the start of the event, referring toexact subsections of the constitution complete with paraphrases of judicialdecisions with respect to the culpability or otherwise of a certain cradle-snatching senator. It was toolate to switch seats, so I carried my cross.

Craning my neck a little more tothe left, I scanned the entire venue past some gum chewing bulky femaleseniors, and a prematurely balding personage who had unashamedly surrendered tothe more alluring tunes of Morpheus,until my eyes rested on wow! (So they still craft lawyers this good?) Fourwell-attired, cute young ladies. They were looking on with bored looks and I immediatelyfelt some kindred spirit…we definitely shared a common network.

The longest three hoursin my life finally limped to an end and the MC who packed an incredible arrayof arid jokes announced the glorious duo: ‘Lunch and Networking!’

I must have pushedmyself through to the exit away from the stifling legal air as the varied aromaof lunch wafted through. (I’m still stuck in this profession probably just becauselawyers have never failed to dine and wine right.) However, gluttony was not mysole motivation this time; I also strove to sit on the same table with peoplewhose appearances (and chit-chat) will go down well with the dishes, Itherefore steered clear of the fat, the old and the male!

I made a show of queuing up with the rest, but allthe while combing the tables…over there, two Senior Advocates pumping theirhands furiously, no way! One of them had earlier made a joke about a separatebuffet to be reserved for the gents of the inner bar. SANs…don’t they just makeyou silk!

Thankfully, I espiedthe dames again, hmmm…good smiles to go with the gleaming ensemble, I wasn’tmissing that. I stalked and stalked, until I got to their table. Tables werelaid for ten people, so I had adequate easement. Immediately the good ladiessat down, I made my grand appearance. I will not bore you with details of mymoulded-to-a perfect-fit Canali suitand classy pocket hanky tailored in consonance with my tie. Ok, the shoes hadseen better days, but fortunately the ladies were apparently not the sort tolook down on people as they kept their glances above the table cloth. ‘Please is that seat taken?’ I couldn’tbelieve I was able to conjure that velvety baritone from my voice box.

I havenever been an expert on women, but damn me if I did not see general flickers ofinterest on their eyebrows. I ate silently for some minutes listening to theirpolished exchanges, (food never digested better), trying to decide the idealmanner to inroad into their conversation. From their gist I found out they were colleagues, on internship from LawSchool. I could tell the dizzying effect my introduction would have on theirgreen horns: I am attached to theConflict Resolution Unit of an International Corporate Practice focused on borderlessnegotiations…but the opportunity never came as three breezy young (male!) lawyerspulled out seats and sat with us.

They introducedthemselves and proceeded to shake the ladies’ hands!…I gasped and turned,expecting to see the ladies recoil at this classless display, considering thatI, their longer acquaintance, had done the gentlemanly thing of waitingpatiently… (Albeit unsuccessfully) for that physical honour. But to my horror,the girls warmly returned the greeting, all smiles. Within the minute, thetable became a flurry of arguments and one-liners, and these invaders monopolizedevery subject. One of the girls couldn’t help gushing ‘Hilarious! This table was so dull before you guys joined, it now feelslike there are lawyers here, what area of practice are you guys into…?’ Iwas deserted…even before the lastcourse.

‘Whatelse do lawyers do?’ grinned the most odious of the toxictrio, a lanky fellow called Wale. ‘We goto court’

I had to interject here‘Come on, you guys have to be joking, weall know that’s archaic thinking, Law has grow beyond the courts. I’ve neverbeen in one myself…’

‘Goand sit down, my friend’ another countered, ‘That is what you so-called corporatelawyers deceive yourselves with. Listen, the teacher’s place is in school, thelawyer’s in court, period!’ I could feel the blood pounding on my face atthis nursery logic, but, relax it! The girls had to see who the better man was.

‘Idisagree’ I forced the bile down. ‘The contemporary world is more business minded; we are even leavingthe courts for arbitration. Where doesthat leave you guys with your lengthy pleadings, affidavits and motions?’ Itook another five minutes to educate them on how the International ConflictResolution sphere was the next best thing and how our firm was a pace setter…until bursts of derisive merriment cut me short.

‘Ourpoint exactly!’ screamed the third of the pack. ‘Contemporary world, International pace-setting,blah blah blah…impressive phrasesthat corporate lawyers deploy to conceal their cowardice in the face of real cerebralbattle…Litigation is the ultimatetest of your legal abilities. We did not major in business negotiations; we aretrained gladiators for the intriguing clash of legal minds in the temples ofjustice. Why do we have senior advocates, not senior solicitors? The law doesn’t solicit. As far as Mother Justice isconcerned, we are her legitimate children, corporate lawyers are strays…’

‘Rubbish’,I snarled trying to drown the sudden applause coming from the girls. ‘It is not true at all! You litigationhustlers are the ones that routinely insult the profession, with your unsought solicitations.The comfort zone of outdated courts shield you from the real world…you hidebehind adjournments and preliminary objections as an excuse for a life of barelydisguised idleness, spitting sections of laws you memorize more out of sheerhabit than any independent thought process…’

‘AndI suppose independent thought process means indiscriminate downloading ofprecedent books in drafting agreements, sipping coffee and biscuits in airyrooms while confusing poor business owners with untested legal opinions in theform of ‘corporate advice?’ Wale was enraged now. The equivalent of a Senior Advocate incorporate practice is the Company Secretary, and then what does the companysecretary even do, apart from filling in templates from the Corporate Affairs Commission?...Youknow that you are not worthy to wear the wig and the gown, it scares the guts outof you… (Wait let me finish!) Can you face a judge? In your business you are counsel and judge at the same time, and your clients don’t know any better.

Every day, in front of our clients, we passthrough intensive intellectual scrutiny from the astute Bench and come outbetter lawyers, dedicated to the time long intendment of the legal profession…advocatingfor justice within the specified ambit. You talk of being in conflict resolution,without force of law? Let the day come that the court’s powers are completelyousted in any agreement and I will eat my wig- which by the way, will grow silkenin just a few more years. And all the attendant privileges that accrue to aworthy son of the learned vocation shall remain elusive to you as long as youcontinue betraying our hallowed tenets on the altar of immediate financialgratification.’ He turned to the increasingly enraptured ladies. ‘Never trust them, with their oily suaveness;see how he silently sat here all along, mind full of scheming. Typicalcorporate shark I tell you! It took honest, open-faced folks like us to makeyou start enjoying your lunch. Frankness is our key word! Real Lawyers are realmen…corporate lawyers are sissy!’

‘The girls were noddingvigorously now in hypnotic worship. ‘Reallawyers are real men…wow!’ I heard one whisper to her friends with a dazedexpression, as the three men drew out their call-cards which the girlsscrambled to grab. ‘Give us a callanytime, legal action always speaks louder than words…’

The bell signaling theend-of lunch/networking chimed, and the tables emptied. I stared at my hands… Ihad grabbed their call-cards as well. (Sometimes i just hate myself!)

END

First published in Thisday Newspapers: June 8, 2010

YULETIDE…The good, The BAR, The ugly…

2009-12-22T09:11:00.000-08:00

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In a cab, whistlinghappily in tune with the carols filtering from the air waves, Holiday!…a breakfrom the stifling animosity of court rooms, the torture of insomniac research,penning long briefs and considered opinions, the plague of monotonous speechesto yawning sparse audience at Legal forums, the overall purgatory of lawpractice... I recline further on my seat and close my eyes; a wave of benignaffection washes over me and I feel at peace with the world...

Christmas is madeparticularly blissful by the fact that it is a time for giving...in fullmeasure, the world is at its most receptive, thus messages that ordinarily willbe lost in the haze of daily humdrum are easily passed across this season… withthe right words, the right gifts...

Oh yes! Chief on thelist…a gift for my boss! A necessary evil that yearly leaves a chasm in mypocket, because my boss is an uncommon woman…she has a heart of gold, a virtue she wears heavily roundher neck and on her fingers. She cannot be caught dead wearing cheaper metaland accepts no other gifts as a matter of principle; she therefore takes a hugechunk off my Yuletide budget. For the time being, I am reluctant to invoke darkclouds with gifts of silver linings, more so, in this season of sacrifice, she may just decide I am bestsuited for that purpose among her workforce, so I need to melt her heart adequately to solder my dreams of one day becomingpartner…

But I am certainly going to draw a line at giving on that obnoxious Chief Bala whoI had always deluded myself was my PP(Translation: The under-the table-client tucked away from the Firm’s view)Wealthy bastard, I thought I had landed the big break when we met but Igradually discovered his philanthropic disposition is identical to SilasMarner’s. After numerous expenses I had run up from his often contradictoryinstructions, I was reasonably expecting a tidy End of the Year pay-off. Last week, I went over andannounced my travel plans a third time to him managing to squeeze my opinionson the growing harshness of the economy into the same sentence. The obesetight-fist grunts his agreement, and calls his boy to get the package for Barrister.In my anticipation I started gushing about how his business acumen had transformedmy outlook during the brief period of our relationship (What’s keeping the boy so long!) bla bla bla.. The boy appears witha small carton of cheap tin tomatoes, vegetable oil and a fruit drink… ‘This one na for ya Christmas, Barrister’, andhe buries his face in a magazine. Themessage was clear; go stew in your ownjuice!

I’m still boiling, andI have a good heart to encourage EFCC to do a tentative audit on his assets.

Ok, I should calm down,it is not a time for bitterness, it is a season for praying for ones enemies. Ihad not fully understood this injunction until the night of the Christmasdinner organized by an illustrious Silk from our geographical section of theNational Bar. There they were, the learned seniors, haughty old millionaires gloatingin the affluence they had amassed from the practice of law, and inputting acutepangs of inferiority within our ranks- the struggling juniors. Swaggering inpatronizing arrogance on their lofty perches, they elaborately handed downgreeting cards and souvenirs to us. The cards bore such inscriptions as ‘…May the New Year aid your growth inwisdom…’ Smiling our thanks, we swallow the obvious insults in huge gulpsof red wine standing in contra-distinction from the champagne bottles on thehigh table. It is a season for turning the other cheek. But my moment came during the closingprayers. I jumped up to take the role before the verbose secretary hadstruggled through his unwieldy closing remarks … ‘Father…let a new legal order arise from our midst and in the New Yearmay the old pass away…’ The Amen chorus that followed my prayer was notweighty enough…but then, lawyers are not popular for their religiosity.

Back to sharing gifts…Ihave not left my colleagues out…Especially the flippant KK, considered thegenius of the firm on the strength of no other value but his ability to designpower-point slides (that the rest of youshould emulate) and speak English through that nose I would give an eye topinch... legacies from an over-priced educational career. My affection for him has not been nurtured byhis frequent Back in the Stateschit-chat with the boss that cruelly sidelines some of us who are a bit likePeugeot cars…made for Nigeria. Recentlyhe has been lending me unsolicited views on the nature of my research…I hadbeen thinking of a good way to tell him that his opinions stink…so his gift isalready packed: a giant bottle of Mouthwash.

That leaves Ujunwa andTope, two exasperating shrews (spinsters of course!) always on the prowl forthe slightest sexist speech. I will get them wrist watches, a gracious way topoint out to them that time ticks away and while the beautiful ones may not yetbe born; the handsome ones are all getting married. On second thoughts, sincethey are both always on the Internet, It is better to visit their Face bookprofile and post them 'time waste for no one' links. I credit them with enough intelligence toread writings on the Wall.

I try to keep away frommy friends in corporate practice at this period, but they insist on seeking meout. Their smooth-faced freshness and oily boardroom drawls are depressants.And the conversation never goes beyond Litigation versus Corporate Law… ‘Massai, you are wasting away inlitigation, going about fomenting trouble…’ That irritant, Chibyke willquip. ‘It is a season of peace for Pete’ssake!’ Yes, I agree, but peace canonly be found in men of good wheels…boostedby end-of-year bonuses alien to the average street lawyer. Oh Santa, will youdo just this one thing for me? Blaze a flaming torch round the snows as ureindeer down their big, tax-dodging corporations… the accompanying meltdownwill get them all out on the streets to join me in my jalopy …a good way todrive home the need for social justice.

Christmas Carols alwaysheld a lot of nostalgia for me because I did a bit of singing as a choir boy inthose lost days of innocence. But no more! I went for a CAROL-FEST organized bysome charity institution with a lot of important sounding names in attendance.The performance was however done not by the usual cherub faced choir kids;celebrities in the Music industry took the role. Singing the lead was one ofthose psychedelic females in a ghastly flutter of eyelashes and rouged cheeks,introducing unwarranted sensuality to the chaste lines of Christmas songs. Iwas awash with thankfulness that the Magi did not have this kind of star to lead them to our Lord. It would havebeen contempt of galactic proportions.

Have I exhausted mywell wishes? Oh I forget my policeman friends…they never stop my car… Probablysacred stiff of the conspicuous NBA sticker on my windscreen, or do I flattermyself? It may be the Can anything goodcome from Nazareth line that keeps them off when they see my smokingexhaust pipes and tremulous bumpers. In any case, for Christmas, just forChristmas, I will tear off the NBA stickers...in the spirit of sharing.

I will end with an openapology to my Client’s tenants at CBN estate considering that I have made quitea string of friends there. I will come around tomorrow acting under the instructionsof my client, your landlord to deliver the traditional well-wishes cardspraying that the New Year ushers in araise in your circumstances…side by side with the card, I shall also bear aNotice to review your rent…upwards.

MERRY XMAS!!!

Published in Thisday Newspapers: December 22, 2009- http://allafrica.com/stories/200912220367.html

One Man’s Mate…Another’s Lawyer!

2009-07-28T16:40:00.000-07:00

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I am sitting inblissful enjoyment of a rare solitude in my little office, thinking elevatedthoughts, thoughts that shape the destiny of a man along the golden terrains of greatness…of immortality…the sortthat won’t be thrown out by any legislator…the sort that would rather inspirethem to lift a plaque to the world on my memorial…with my name engraved in itseternal marble letters…

The door is pushedopen before I had even taken in the fact that somebody was knocking.

It is Henry,ordinarily not the most painstaking in sartorial issues, but today he lookedpositively clownish in his rolled up sleeves and multi coloured waist coat, andof course the tie was inevitably askew.

‘Massai…up,quick…I need a divorce.’

‘That’s ajoke?’ I know his wife Doris too well; sweeterdisposition in a female never graced our world.

‘Dead serious’and his face convinced me he was. ‘Nodrink in this office as usual’ he sighed in exasperation. ‘Must you always beprim and proper?’ He went about pulling out cabinets in that absent-minded wayof his. I am used to him so I do not mind at all. We had met at Law school and bonded surprisingly…

‘You mustunderstand that this is not a result of any fault of Doris’s. She is wonderful…anangel…and that’s the problem!’

I waited.

‘See, I loveher, I value what we’ve had, but she is so, so…’ He searched for a word, ‘“lukewarm”.she just takes the life out ofliving. I enjoy her loyalty no doubt, but I cringe at her ability to keepquiet, listen and obey. For the two odd years of our marriage, never, not oncehas a quarrel ever featured between us.’

‘But that’s ablessing’

‘To a lawyer?No! it’s a curse, you may not understand…but I come home everyday…quaking withthe rage of another day in court gone awry…whydid I not push that motion harder, …theannoying antics of the suave opposing counsel, the blubbering of some daftclient and I walk straight into thewelcoming arms of a loving wife, she asks no questions but murmurs hersympathies, and kneads my shoulders…before I know it I slumber away…and themorrow presents the same scenario…and I always lose.’

‘How?’

He gave me thekind of look reserved for challenged children. ‘Can’t you see it? It’s anindolent life, no brawls…no arguments…my word is law…literally. But even the law suffers revisions and amendments…mineis the law of the Austiniansovereign…she holds no opinion on any subject lest I pronounce on it…andwhatever little stirrings of thought she may have on that instantly suffocates,once my own divergent view covers the field. I am stagnating, fire sharpeneth iron…I need practice, my aptitude for the profession is suffering’

‘You thereforechoose your career over the peace of marriage?’

‘But of course! What is a man without a vocation?A mere bird of passage…Does the saying not go that every successful man has a good woman behind him…not beside him, mind you. So in my quest forsuccess I have to leave the goodDoris behind.’

I smiled…you cannotdeny the fellow his wit.

A wistful look crossedhis face. ‘A sad pity that I did not endup with Betty from Law school…’

‘That termagant?’I knew her too well…the sort you will take home only if you have sedateophobia. ‘She’s married now, isn’tshe?’

‘Yes, hell of a luckydude, her husband’

‘I will not bein a hurry to describe him so.’

‘You would not,with your Victorian outlook to life…Bettyis a woman with spirit, her potentials are all awakened and her general sense ofawareness accelerated.

The wistful lookdeepened. ‘You know, she always told me that when she was a kid, she never hadfemale friends…played with the boys…she never owned dolls…she had a catapult…’

‘I see she hasalways aimed high’ I murmured.

‘Exactly! Admirablyambitious…and a toughened outlook on life, none of this irritating mushiness ofso called feminine tenderness’.

‘How do youmean?’

‘In the lengthof our relationship, not once did I see her shed a tear…not once. A stunt shepulls off from years of practice…’

I raised mybrows, questioningly ‘Strange for a lady.’

‘Yes, as alittle girl, whenever she did wrongand the mother screamed at her, she never cringed…she always staredunblinkingly back…and her mother cried instead.’

‘Impressive’

‘Her father wasno exception…a ‘Deeper Life’ pastortype, he could not forbid her from wearing trousers…no, not Betty…They foughtand fought over it…but she won in the end.’

‘Do you knowwhen she decided to become a lawyer? She was in primary school then, when herbrother slapped her once during a fight. Fiery spirit and all, she never hitback, not a finger in revenge.

She simplyretired to her room, penned down the experience and addressed it to theprincipal of the Secondary School where her brother had applied for ascholarship. It was a Mission school; best in those days… the rascal lost hischance.’

‘But that ismean…could she not have simply reported to their parents?’

‘That is thepoint, she knew they would form a biasedpanel…they would be judges in their own case…they needed the scholarshipeven more than the son. She says that was the highest point of her life…shefelt a power course through her veins…she needed not to have biceps before shecould hold her own among the brutes, men…she would wield a bigger weapon…the law.’

‘Did you evertell her of yourself?’

‘No, her historywas always by far more interesting…you know I’m not so good with stories, andin her charming bluntness she always teased me about that. You could see thebored irritation on her face whenever I attempted…and to pacify her I wouldoffer to listen to hers instead. I did not mind…it was a privilege for thatgreat woman to share her dreams and aspirations with me…’

‘And her fears,must have made you feel stronger’

‘Betty never hadfears…she always laughed at mine…made me stronger, you see.’

‘Look at how successfulshe is in advocacy…sheer will powerand drive. Bulldozing through the conventions of superiority that we men buildto cover our many inadequacies…she is an Amazon that woman…an Amazon.’

‘Maybe, but she will calm down when the kidsstart coming…it softens them you know.’

‘Betty alwaysmade it clear that nothing was ever going to separate her from her career. Thekids can have nannies while she works her late nights…is that not the time ofday Longfellow’s great people achieved their flight to the top?’

‘Why then didyou break up with her if she was this perfect? You never told me’.

A look of pureagony flitted across his features… ‘It was me’. He groaned, ‘I was not man enough to measure up to herintellectual height…I got insecure and she walked.’ He looked so forlorn, Ifelt sorry.

‘You probablydodged a bullet my friend. the picture you painted is of an inordinatelyselfish woman, mean-hearted in the pursuit of her interests, vindictive, nodeference whatsoever to family or marital obligations and what kind of woman findskids unbearable?….and never keeps hermouth shut and shows no interest in the furtherance of her spouse’s career, orlacks the tact to totally ignore HIS shortcomings?…well, she has to be alawyer!’

‘Perception,Massai, perception…in the words of Achebe, giveme a child that breaks utensils in his haste any day than a clumsy piece ofcold ash.’

‘Not aflattering way to describe your spouse… divorce is not a defence in defamation.’

‘Yes, but truth is.’

‘Okay…I shallfile the preliminary notice.’

‘Good, I know Ican always count on you, even if your ideas were always a little outmoded.’ Andhe headed for the door.

Wait a minute…’ Istopped him.

‘Yes…?’

‘I just thoughtyou should know. Betty’s husband was here yesterday…he wanted a divorce.'

END

First published in Thisday Newspapers: July 28, 2009

Enslavement of Young Lawyers

2009-06-02T10:28:00.000-07:00

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The setting is a danfo, parked under the sweltering heatof a particularly grumpy afternoon, the blazing orb kindling the metalencasement of the bus with a view to gradually barbecue the mass within. Sweaty flesh glides against sweaty fleshas the passengers grudgingly adjust for the next to come in, searing tempers,curses and grumbles. The minutes traipse along and the sun steadily creepstowards a blistering climax.

He sits calmly, seemingly obliviousto the double dosage of heat his black suit is wooing to him, face stuck to themagazine which he interchanges as a hand fan. Beads of sweat tumble down hisprematurely wrinkled face, he flicks them off with his fingers, he has nohandkerchief.

Thankfully the bus finally fillsup, with promises of at least some air and motion but the conductor is evidentlyderiving some warped satisfaction from the general discomfiture and insists oncollecting the fare before the bus moved an inch. Maledictions rain down hishead from the incensed passengers.

The fellow, apparently nostranger to evil wishes smilingly remains deaf to the mounting rancor andcheekily stretches out his hands to each cursing passenger, taking all the timein the world to fish for change … it eventually gets to our gentleman’s turn topay and he digs out an unnaturally crumpled note, the conductor rejects itinstantly and tosses it back to him, the veneer of calm wears off and thegentleman inaugurates his own tirade drowning out all others, with emphasis onthe unschooled mind of the ruffian beingthe propelling force behind his wretchedness. Unfortunately the conductordeciphers the word wretched and buncheshis fist menacingly close to the gentleman’s face, inspiring the latter tobellow out an introduction… ‘I am alawyer! Dare you touch me and see if Idon’t bundle you to a place where touts of your kind are housed’ We allturn, and indeed the gentleman has a starched collar on.

At the word lawyer, the conductor’s anger melts away…and is replaced by loudraucous laughter which lasts two full minutes. ‘Lawyer!’ He chokes, makinga derisive sweeping gesture with his left hand, ‘Olorun! So if lawyers start to de come out even this one go follow…whyyou no fit buy your own car put AC for am? See as im wear coat under sun…me Ino be lawyer but at least I get sense to wear only singlet as the afternoon hotso’. (Here I recognized slight similarities in the hygienic state of thesaid singlet and the gentleman’s collar)

Many more of the conductor’s epigramswere swallowed by laughter; the passengers were at last getting their moneysworth… I felt like shedding tears for the poor fellow.

This happened years ago. If itwere now, maybe my reaction would have been more proactive. Do we not owe a dutyto our learned friends?

Duty...that’s a word we throw around so carelessly in the legalprofession, sweet sounding jargon as ‘rightsand duties are co-relatives, civilized society would be elusive without aneffective interplay of both…blah blah blah…’

Now, that was one of a class inthat bus, a class of victims of a duty-freelegal practice, convenient pawns to be tossed about in pursuit of the biggerpicture.

They abound, and are so easilyspotted: Greying white shirts, oversized suits, trousers creased and folded inmultiple places, and when the jacket comes off, the damp ring around the armpitregion testifies to a hard life in a hard job.

Yes, that is the package many an Associate(how that word deceives!) in our Law firms are turned out in. Does it mean theylack decent taste…I wonder

Assigned all the dirty andback-breaking work, they take home barely enough to lift them over thedestitution line. You can sight themanywhere under our belligerent sun, looking harassed, with sweaty faces and reddenedeyes …A bike here, a keke there…forgetcabs, unnecessary luxury theirprincipal calls them.

It is bad enough to be poor, buttrying to put a cloak over it comes off as downright ridiculous.

But the profession demands proper dressing at all times, no blames.We must appear respectable. Respectability means a black jacket, tie, collar,the works …It inspires confidence in clients.

Sorry, it is an expensive rulebut every lawyer is expected to measure up.

Of course the success of the measuringup is seen through the client’s eyes, and clients are not blind. A person you hire to wrestle tensof millions from a defaulter should at least exhibit more sartorial competencethan your average scare-crow.

They even ask for tips… ‘Ah ah now oga, nothing for your boys?’ This,to a barely literate client. Well, let’s call it the Bar-tender instinct.

For the men (who incidentallyform the bulk of this group) it is impossible to work out a marriage/familyplan with the next to nothingremuneration…to them, the law is indeed a jealous mistress.

The concept of duty is notvoluntary, bah! Leave duty to the altruistic inclinations of man and nothing isdone. Thus the need to impose a standard…

Recently we have all been buzzingwith arguments and counters as to why the position of SAN should bescrapped…while I have as yet not taken any sides, I will need to remind that itis only in the issue of conferring that title that some form of standard isintroduced with respect to the materialpackaging of the practitioner; a vital ingredient. It will not be a bad idea if extendedto every law firm in the country.

Many a principal sits lookingwell fed and smug, swiveling in his easy chair barking out orders to his footsoldiers and dusting crumbs down to them from his table by month-end. The standard should be: the rightto establish a law firm being automatically attached to the duty to provide aprescribed level of welfare to all the fee earners. And compliance should bemandatory.

Away with the rambling speechesof seminars and conferences…Young Lawyers:Carving out a Rich Future for the Legal Profession. The Law: An Instrument of Socio-economic Transformation. yak yakyak. Rather let us introduce stringent measures: chunky salaries andallowances, reasonable appearance fees, staff vehicles (or monetary equivalents)as preconditions to being an employer of (legal) labour.

Back in Law school, one of our lecturers in tryingto illustrate what constitutes conduct incompatible with the legal professionmade a joke about mounting a horse with ones wig and gown on…ok, we don’t havehorses now, how about climbing onto a bike, perched in a keke…or overhanging from a moluein ones professional regalia?

Stop and search…discover theemployer. For perpetuating a travesty, heshould face the ire of the Disciplinary Committee, with penalties ranging frommild chastisement to full-blown suspension.

The world has gone materialistic andowes no apologies for that, gentlemen of the world’s leading vocation shouldordinarily set the pace. They deserve every bit of the good life.

Banks and Oil Companies are the dream workplace.Yes; they work their behinds off, but the AC drones all day and takes the biteoff the pressure, coupled with the certitude of a sizable salary, profit sharing, upfronts and other juicy ancillaries.

That is welfare.

Not so for the junior lawyer…heshould be content with fanning himself with the sheaves of paper on his deskwhenever power fails while fighting the evil teeth chewing up his emptyentrails. He might as well have skipped Lawschool; poverty needs no rigorous preparation.

Recently I was in one of thosenice buildings at Victoria Island alongside a small crowd of people waiting for the lift todescend, when a delightful fragrance wafted through. We all turned to look andthere stood two regally attired young persons, a gentleman and a lady.Sparkling white shirts, glossy plastic collars, inch-perfect suits and shoes thatobservably had minimal interaction with the earth. Even their voices wore animmaculate polish, their car keys jingled, and their faces glowed with robusthealth and confidence. They waited with the rest of us. Nobody could stopstaring…

My heart swelled inside…those are my learned colleagues, Ialmost shouted.

That’s what I’m talking about; theideal lawyer’s look… the minimum standard.

I rest my thesis.

Published in Thisday Newspapers: June 2, 2009- http://allafrica.com/stories/200906020235.html

'Tis a Long Road that leads to the Old Wig

2009-05-05T10:47:00.000-07:00

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It is an exhilarating feeling to be formally called to Bar,I have walked that road.

Few things in life can compare to the climactic upsurge whenyou are clothed in the robes and receive the venerated wig unto your head. When you are inducted into that enclave of the most prestigiousvocation, barricading the oaken door to non-initiates as you settle down toestablish a bond with the mastersover dinner. Nothing beats the air of mystery as you reappear from thedinner, wearing an inscrutable expression that befits your new status, smilinginwardly at the muted questions of awe-struck family and friends, altogether transportedto the pinnacle of their regard, a revered figure. You are positioned to tread the highly acclaimed road of beinga custodian of the law.

It is indeed a once-in a lifetime feeling.

Alas! Like all once in a lifetime things, it soon wearsoff… and you are brought back from the nine clouds with a thud!

Your first day incourt.

You walk into the room puffed up, well maybe a bit by theelaborate raiment of your new office but more from an exaggerated feeling ofimportance, and stride majestically towards the bench for the day’s cause list. You expect the world to stand still and acknowledge a special one; you constrict yourcountenance to the right level of dignity…. ‘Smiles cheapeneth the face’, didn’t somebody say somewhere inhistory. You strain your ears for the murmur of awe that shouldaccompany your impeccably shimmering appearance.

None of this happens, rather you are shocked at the snicker -fromno more a person than the half initiate court clerk, you turn to descend on himuntil you discover the source of his merriment, you almost drop the cause list(which by the way you are holding wrong side up) he is literally looking overyour head, so you adjust your headgear…then the bombshell drops, ‘You’re a newwig are you not? It’s so obvious. Relax, you’ll get used to it’ You dutifully ignore him; the day is so momentous to bedampened by irreverent rantings of a flippant clerk.

But your travails are not yet over.

As you take your seat in the bar, drinking in the dizzying factthat you are now part of the esteemed circle, the other lawyers are allreaching out to pump your hands, and the room is filled with a hum of ‘New wig!New wig!’ ‘Congratulations boy! You are thankful when the door is pounded to announce M’lord’s appearance.

He sits and surveys the hall with stern features, and all ofa sudden, his eyes light up with a twinkle… ‘Oh I see we have a new wig today,please stand up’ you look back praying it is not you, but the tell-tale wigdraws you to your feet and you answer a few personal questions revealing morehumbling details of your neonate status. For the older lawyers, the session has started on a comicnote. You catch the court clerk’s glance again and there are tearsin his eyes, he is helpless with laughter. The rest of the day crystallizes your lowliness, your caseis high up on the cause list, but you are called last. You shakily stutter outyour motion and flee the premises.

Again and again the cycle is repeated…the glossy wig , withall the threads firmly in place coupled with the shiny blackness of your gownspot you out for miles as the profession’s latest green horn. And friend, it is indeed a long wait before that wig ofyours begins to grow old.

The road is long that leads to an old wig…it is paved withincredible tales of bloody conquests, bruising defeats, close shaves and aquagmire of soul-selling compromises. The wig gets blackened by smokes ofsustained crossfire, stained by the muddy pitfalls dug by foes, gnarled andtwisted by the rough weather of the profession. But what an enviable place awaits him on whose head the oldwig is perched.

He shuffles slowly into the courtroom (none of that sprightlyoverzealousness of the young) and is ushered into a reserved seat at the bar. When his case is called up, he demonstrates that there is anuncanny dignity in the tremulousness of voice and limb, he squints at documentsand the court stands still until his presentation is made. His deep throated submissions ring with the finality of anadage. The opposing side does not object with vehemence ….he merelybegs to disagree. And if sustained, the judge turns away his face inapologetic embarrassment.

Can an old wig lose a case? When his writings contribute tonumerous persuasive precedents…When other lawyers quote him…he may have eventaught a judge or two…Be it in silk or of the ordinarystuff, the old wig stands as the symbol of experienced knowledge. Like DorianGray’s portrait, it is the outward reflection of the time worn innards… Naturally, the old wig continually wears thin; revealing adeep portion of the grey beneath…grey meets grey…wisdom embraces wisdom…anearth shaking communion!

The aged wig reflects the law in its perfection. He is a jurisconsult; the lawyer’s lawyer. He oozes self confidence, his knowledge is a fortress; thereis no trick in the bag he has not practiced. Do not be deceived by his occasional absent mindedness, heis not senile…at such times he merely releases his spirit to the secretdwelling place of the law…he is the medium that transcribes its darker mysteries. It is whispered that many a judge sits at his feet in the twilightseeking direction for a decision of the morrow.

He smiles at the excesses of the young, he watches them rushto their ruin in their mad play to the gallery…the race is not for the swiftfooted nor the nimble…it is for the seasoned warrior sure of where to place hisfeet and defeat the raging quicksand. The real world opensup new chapters uncovered by the theories and ideals of law school…The young is befuddled by the discrepancy…The old wig hasseen it all.

When the wig grows old…it also grows prosperous. Youth believes so much in its strength, thus it gambles andexplores, nibbling only at the edges, never becoming a true master,

For the old wig, there is only one profession…the law…hegrows old in it and it pays him. He is celebrated…his hallways are lined with plaques andmedals. He is grand patron to a horde of eager disciples.

The wig does not grow old at the bottom of the dresser…it isa regular helmet on the battlefield of law practice. Again and again, it marches to gory swordfights and comesback stained. Every crease, a notch of glory. Every tear, the scalp of a foe.…Rugged statements of invincibility.

When the wig grows old, it captures the sentiment of D.H.Lawrence when he penned the lines:

It ought to be lovelyto be old

To be full of thepeace that comes of experience and wrinkled ripe fulfillment

The wrinkled smile ofcompleteness that follows life…

My new wig is very smart, in fact it is a fashion statement,but I dream of the glorious days when it shall grow old…

END.

First published in Thisday Newspapers: May 5, 2009

WELCOME TO LAW SCOOL!

2009-03-24T09:06:00.000-07:00

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I have many friends at the Law School. Isit out with them now and again over some drinks (Is that not what the bar is about after all?) and recount myown Law school days.

Of course the genial hands of time are steadilymoulding my memories of the place into an idyllic monument, so at the slightestpush; I wax lyrical about it. But these friends of mine never get caughtup in my enthusiasm. Most of the time they listen with a woe-begone expressionand subtly change the subject. After much prodding, they finally let me into their reservations and Iam most tempted to reproduce them on this page, but of course they swore me tosecrecy…it is infamous conduct to harbour thoughts of that hueabout the revered institution.

On closer reflection, I am inclined to holdthat the vehemence of their feelings might be a bit exaggerated.The issues are purely based on a conflict ofperspectives and a break in communication. In this regard, I think that the liableparty is the Council itself. There must be something faulty with theorientation programme they package for the entrants. Oh, forget that charade of effusive speechesand polite applause. These rehearsed monologues hardly enter one ear beforeleaving through the other.

They fail to understand that the newapplicants to the bar are usually at their most impressionable, thus a welldelivered message goes a long way. You can see that from their willingness tojot down any sound that escapes the speaker’s throat. (Coughs and sneezes notexempted.)The council should make their policiesknown from day one so that the new students can understand what they are upagainst.

I hate arm-chair critics, so I have decidedto contribute actively to correcting this anomaly by sketching a model welcomeaddress for the D.G. that will serve to make the new intakes understand better theprobable perspective from which the Council sees legal training.

The speech shall run a little like this:

‘Gentlemen,

We use the above term with no apologies whatsoeverto the gender hyperactive ones among you. The term has subsisted these longyears to cover both sexes and we do not see any reason for it to be tamperedwith.

We must point out that we do not accede tothe ludicrous version “gentlemen in skirt” when referring to our femalesmembers…As this is not Scotland, the very picture of a gentleman in skirt wakesup disturbing images which thankfully our laws have not yielded to yet.

That said, we proceed now to offer you ourcongratulations for having scaled the tortuous hurdle of tertiary study. Whilewe are impressed that your numbers soar with the passing years, we fail toquell the nagging suspicion that the lecturers in our universities are growingless imaginative in setting exam questions. Forwhat good does a sieve serve when all the grains make it through? But then, that is matter for another day.

As I look into your midst, I see a sea of eagerfaces, eyes glittering with the exhilaration within. I see barely concealed bloats in your egos, no doubt created bythe prospect of being received into our regal fold. Isee holders of certificates that boast of worthiness in the sublime merits ofcharacter and learning. With the above, we shall not be so hasty toconcur; what with the distasteful news that filter daily from our Universitiesof today. We strive to believe that your various Facultiesof Law shielded you from the stains, but we cannot be too sure. While we acknowledge your LLB status (it issurely no mean feat) we shall not forget that the erudite Alexander Pope pointsout the perils of half learning. Our focus in this institution is to providethat missing better half, a task weshall set about with the stoutest of resolves.

In your university days, you enjoyedfreedom; you were like birds, with the horizon as your ambit. Those days arenow irretrievably gone. Here we recognize the danger in trustingthe notion of free will. Unbridled freedomnegates the very concept of our profession.The Law is meant to effect a coercive orderof human behaviour.The Naturalists may hold reservations aboutthis but the Council has attained its present enviable status largely becausewe choose to stay positive.

Therefore, from henceforth, any nocturnalstroll between opposite members of the sexes is declared illicit. Likewise, we forbid visits to any hostelsthat house members of the opposite sex. While we do not wish to make hermits of you,we are worried about the effect that the fertility of your minds may have onyour bodies. Mens sana in corporea sana.

We shall observe you closely at all times.Such public displays of heterosexual attraction as pecks and hugs shall be lookedupon with a stern frown. Gentlemen greet themselves with smart handshakes and we shall unwaveringly adhere to that standard.Your ultimate conquest of the world beginswith the annihilation of every unwholesome thought and desire.

We proceed now to the issue of fees.

We gather that there has been an outcryamong some of you against the relentless rise in our fees with every new batchand that we make the purchase of laptops a stringent requirement.

We are glad that this cry is not unanimous. Our position is vindicated by graduates ofour private universities who considerwhat we charge as akin to a tax holiday.

The council proposes to reward such progressive thinking by accrediting moreof such institutions. We also hope to swell the number of our (ohso adorable) students in the Diaspora, who toe the same progressive line.

The allegation stems exclusively from the beneficiariesof public schooling.

This peasant category has come to expectlife to be replete with subsidies and gratuitous grants. We wish to inform them that while educationmay be expensive, ignorance keeps a dearer school. Our profession is not for commoners, and ifthey cannot cope, they should please exploit the open door policy of this institution, literally. We shall not missthem. And as for the laptops, we have our strongreasons for them. We have fashioned a do-it-yourselfcurriculum. (Your spoon feeding days are over) Your lecturers would bespared the irritations of your oftentimes naïve questions…With the laptops,simply google the answer and save thewhole class precious time needed to cover the volumes that make up yourschedule.

Following from this, we also wish toreiterate that while we encourage fearlessness and diligent courage as virtuesof the lawyer, they are placed at subservience to the prime notion of order ofprecedence and seniority at the Bar. Our predecessors who set this laudablestandard have deemed us worthy to wear this grey wig of wisdom, but you are asyet mere applicants. So even in the unlikely event of all of youhere eventually making it to the bar, you are by far our juniors and we shall thereforebrook no challenges whatsoever from you with respect to our authority. While we wish you luck in your quest, wemaintain that you recognise your place in the interim; to be seen not heard,except when you are specifically addressed.

Ah! I see creases of dissent on some ofyour faces, you mouth the silent question; arewe breeding timid lawyers? No we are not gagging you, we only groomyou to say the right things and save the profession the embarrassment ofvociferous radicals.

Lastly, I must inform you that over the years,we have received strong worded protests over our grading system. We are accused of using the lowest score todetermine a person’s eventual grade. Such questions make me marvel at thephenomenal laziness creeping into the minds of our youth. The law admits no apostles but theimpeccable. On this ground, the test is no more that ofthe reasonable man, but of theintellectual.

So, ifyou record a mere pass despite a string of 80s and 90s, I hope you understandthat you still possess an Achilles heel…that part of your anatomy, the professionsuffers you to relinquish. Do not give me the quote: “God forbid that a lawyer knows all the law…”The learned jurist that made that famous dictum unfortunately overlookedthe fact that ours is largely a profession of atheists.

Once again, we welcome you to Law Schooland wish you a most enjoyable stay.’

Irest my thesis

First published in Thisday Newspapers: March 24, 2009

SELLING THE LAW…

2009-02-03T08:23:00.000-08:00

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I lovefantasies; often I have been called a head-lost-in-the-cloudsdreamer. I love that tag. Dreams are notalways the escapist pastime of a slothful mind- they may subconsciously providethe seedlings for the birth of great ideas. Yes, dreams arenot real, but when they come to life, present reality changes. Dreamsprecipitate change. As a dreamertherefore, I am an agent of change…

I had lapsedinto this philosophico-poetic moodafter I was roundly battered in an argument with some of my young lawyer friends the other day. We werediscussing the sense (or lack of it) in the restriction of advertisementsin the legal profession in Nigeria,by the Rules of Professional Conduct. I waspassionately of the view that the provisions of the rules are too stifling and inconsistentwith the modern world.

All thepublicity the Rules allow is; a reasonablysized sign-post in front of the practitioner’s office.

‘Many people do not even notice those signs, theirbleary black and white prints are swallowed by more interesting items on thelandscape’ I had stated. ‘Can you win clients that way?’

‘Massai’ Myultra-conservative friend Edward had interjected ‘a good lawyer needs not be aided by psychedelia, let your recordsspeak.’

‘But that is the point!’ Ihad screamed ‘how do you transmit thesaid records without adverts?’

‘Simple, does the law not permit you to affix yourqualifications on your business cards?’ thatwas from Mike, another incurable stiff-back.

‘It is not enough’ I insisted ‘we need to spice up the whole thing a lotmore’

‘Do you then recommend that we slide to the arena ofpedestrian trivia?’ Samuel-every inch a stuffed shirt - murmured.

‘Yes!’ I was gettingheated up. ‘We need to leave our lofty pinnacleand approach equal altitude with the people we are supposed to serve in thefirst place…’

‘My friend, I think you have what it takes toconquer the world, but first you must wake up from your silly dreams’Edward delivered the masterstroke.

The rest of mywell laid submissions were drowned in laughter.

Now in my quiet moment,I am convinced more than ever that my views are workable.

People complainthat the law goes over their heads, lawyers are a mysterious horde, and thus,it takes a fair dose of courage to walk into the hallowed interiors of theirsepulchral chambers. End result; thepropagation of a populace completely apathetic to litigation and invariably, aproliferation of poor lawyers.

Where then isthe dignity which the rules seek to preserve?

What is the wayforward? Easy, obliterate the rules!

First, lawyersshould be allowed to do away with the reasonablesize and sober design cliché from their sign-posts and in their stead, putup eye-catching, life size billboards, amply bedecked with neon lights. Having donethis, the lawyers’ gifts of imagination which have been asphyxiated over the yearsshall be given new life. Their battle ofwits will seep beyond the confines of cross-examination and evolve into bits ofhumorous catchphrases for their lawfirms.

Slogans like: ‘You will never turn in your Grave…’inscribed boldly at the bottom corner of business cards and posters will betterbuttress expertise in Wills and Testaments than a dry list of L.L.M.s and L.L.D.s. In the same vein,the words: ‘When the Police is not yourFriend, We kick his butt’ bestows a Charge and Bail specialist with moreclass and appeal. And if you wantto sweep home all the clients in town, a most fitting slogan is: ‘At Z & I Group…we dine with the judges…’

This will befollowed by press-conferences, interviews and documentaries of landmark caseswhere the firm had obtained favourable judgement. It will becomecommon while flipping through the pages to see colourful promos broadcasting:

BONANZA! BONANZA!! BONANZA!!!

An Irresistible Litigation Bundle Offer from the LawOffices of Clement & George.

Submit three briefs in 6months and win yourself a probono case!

Hurry while offer lasts…

Not to be beaten,a rival Law firm will contract a rave of the moment celebrity, say D’Banj toappear on national TV, complete in his dark shades, plus the venerated wig andgown! : ‘if you are not sitting with S& J Associates, you are on a loooong case!’

Outside a fewcardiac seizures to prim and proper hearts, the effect on the profession willbe largely positive.

Law offices willoverflow with customers, oops, clients; the movement would have bred a newmind-set in the citizens. We all hate whatwe cannot understand, so if the people get to recognize that the lawyer is justanother average entrepreneur hustling for his daily bread and butter alongside other ordinary species of humanity, theyshall open their arms wide in fraternity. The great wall ofsuspicion will collapse; a harmonious accord will be reached. The publicizedcompetition will pull down litigation costs, creating a more legally responsivesociety… and the lawyers will reap the plums of increased patronage. It is Eldorado in the making!

Of course, to completethis revolution, every serious minded Law firm will engage in some bit of ambulancechasing. The phrase wouldbe renamed to purge it of every derogatory taint, it will simply be called-Marketing. Paralegal staffand interns will be posted on strategic locations in the streets. (A welcome changefrom sitting and rotting away over mountains of case files). Everyday,persons get knocked down by over speeding cars, fall from dislodged kerbs andget hit by falling objects from overloaded trucks…The field staffwill be on standby with sheaves of handbills. These handbillscontain detailed workings of the victim-counsel settlement ratio when the negligence suit is won, and shall bedistributed to families of the victims. When no familymember is around, it will suffice to discreetly press same into the hands ofthe victim as he is being stretcheredaway.

Oh, I amdreaming again…

Reality isdifferent; reality is contained in the Rules. The Rules saythat unfettered advertisement bringsthe profession to disrepute, creates prejudice and does not foster fairness inthe legal practice. Maybe this isright, maybe not…time will tell. Our world isbeing fast unravelled; there are no more sacred grounds. Flow with thestream or get stagnated behind. Last year, anAustralian High court affirmed that court processes can be served on Facebook! What more can Isay? I am eagerlywaiting for our rules to be unbuckled to that degree.
I already have theadvert slogan for my law office waiting. I am keeping itsimple: "Life is BRIEF; Get a Lawyer…"

I rest mythesis.

First published in Thisday Newspapers: February 3, 2009