Let me be candid. It was with mixed feelings that I accepted to deliver this lecture.
On the one hand, I felt that it was a duty owed, not simply to an individual who has endured the "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" – to borrow from the famous soliloquy by our Bard for all seasons, Shakespeare – but because the very nature of that individual's "slings and arrows" sums up what appears to be the most engrossing preoccupation of human society – that elusive quarry being, very simply – Justice.
Unvarnished. Unambiguous. Blindfolded as symbolic representation in judicial iconography but – decidedly not blind. Indeed, it strikes me now as being almost an entire lifetime ago when, little suspecting that I was summing up my own existential raison d'etre, I declared that: Justice is the first condition of Humanity.
To have declined to answer the call to deliver this address therefore would have left me with quite a few sleepless nights.
On the other hand, as some of you here may be aware, I had announced that I had had my fill of public interventions, and had enrolled as a student in that much underrated discipline known as – Retirement from Public Life.
I must admit that I have proved a disappointing student, indeed not merely disappointing but an 'international embarrassment'.
If you don't believe me, ask a newly minted addition to the academic world, female edition, who recently returned from South Korea with a doctorate degree in record time.
Mind you, the fault is not entirely mine. All my professors are on strike nation-wide, and so, a straightforward course that should have seen me graduate in a mere semester or two is being stretched – as has become the norm for thousands of my fellow students – stretched into an indeterminate future. Heaven alone knows when I can proceed to induction for my Youth Service!
Why did I take that 'retirement' decision – quotation marks – in the first place? For the same reason as many others have. There comes a point when one feels that all that can be said has been said.
The problem with that conviction of course is that one then becomes a compulsive reminder of what has indeed been spoken, crying out in spite of oneself – but I warned you. I told you so. So did others.
Didn't So-and-so say the same thing barely a month ago? Etc. etc. It is a human compulsion, especially for those who have inherited, it would appear, some teaching genes somewhere down their family line.
Like all teachers, there come those moments of utter weariness and frustration when the teacher loses control and assaults his recalcitrant pupils physically, becomes an alcoholic, checks himself into a rehabilitation home for manic depressives, or takes to the order of the Trappists – that monkish order that is sworn to eternal silence, even among themselves.
And others go quietly mad. Whenever you encounter a gentleman in a somewhat threadbare suit and scuffed shoes, shuffling along the road while muttering to himself, perhaps with book in hand, intermittently barking out savagely, "What did I tell you? What did I just tell you?" – check on the background of that individual – he is likely to have been a former teacher, finally driven out of his wits.
To avoid that fate therefore, I am sure most psychiatrists will approve my recourse to a regimen of pre-emptive therapy, not claiming to be a prophet, but simply pointing out what has been said before.
This involves taking on the role of a memory prod in a structured way, quite unapologetically. Yes, many have warned. They have warned tirelessly and in various forms, become nearly deafened by the sound of their voices as it bounces back from the stone walls of indifference, complacency and/or complicity.
Some are dead, their hearts caved in by the sheer pummeling of predicted, avoidable disasters. Others are still living, their voices turned hoarse from the curse of repetitiousness.
The most notorious example of that today is of course the so-called National conference – of which more in a moment. As with many other propositions, the social context – which is ever changing – may provide a veneer of fresh thinking, but the stark truth is that all has been said, cogently and relevantly.
However, it would sometimes appear that 'the stone that the builders rejected…..etc. etc. you know the rest. The question however is whether or not the optimism of the Scriptures – christian edition – is right, and that this rejected stone – often abusively dismissed – indeed proves to be the cornerstone of a new, modestly viable edifice.
However, even a child knows that, before the erection of a simple farm hamlet, the ground, large or small, has to be cleared, the debris burnt or ploughed back into the ground where it is converted into entirely new matter – compost – or else disposed of in such a manner that it loses its earlier capacity to obstruct, compromise or endanger the new organism.
Those who think they can erect a future without first ridding the ground of past debris fly against the natural order of regeneration. They carry with them negative baggage that already conflicts with the envisioned transformation, or a new organism.
Of all the conceivable negative baggage I can think of right now, the most pressing, I have always maintained, takes the form of a critical absence, subversion or suppression of – Justice.
One of the elementary lessons we all learnt from school, even those of us with incurably unscientific minds, is that – Nature abhors a vacuum.
In the absence of justice, something else takes its place, a monstrosity in myriad forms and shapes, fecund with yet unencountered horrors – indeed even as the portals of Justice are shut, the lid of a Pandora's box is opened.
These are not mere figures of speech but narratives of experienced reality. No society is exempt, and no one experience is unique. They all differ in form, intensity and duration – no more.
How have we fared, within this environment that most immediately sustains us – well, sort of? I shall evoke here one of the most notorious public profile cases of the serial degradations of Justice that seemingly shook this nation to its foundations.
There are other cases we could cite – the murder of Dele Giwa for instance. Or Harry Marshall. Kudirat Abiola. Suliat Adedeji. A.K. Dikibo. Abukakar Rimi. Barnabas and Abigail Igwe, husband and wife, both officers of the law.
Or Chief Dina – lest I stand accused of omitting my own homestead. Or indeed numerous others, so quickly relegated into the sump of unsolved cases.
My choice today, the main reference point for our sobering retrospection is however singularly apt. Despite his terminal absence, that preeminent victim shares with our celebrant, albeit in a tragic mode, the ironic symbolism of 'Justice in Denial', a role that interrogates both the very concept and operations of Justice, and also, the main structure for its delivery, which is – the Judiciary.
No one will question the seismic impact of the circumstances that took him from our midst, a dastardly deed which, as already claimed, shook the nation to its very foundations. However, the nation did not topple over – from all appearances.
Nonetheless, I am reminded of the condition of Washington 'Cleopatra's Needle' which dominates the zone of the seat of US government – Capitol Hill.
When Washington underwent an unprecedented earthquake in 2011, quite mild in comparison with those that regularly hit the other side of the continent – California especially – that nation gave a sigh of relief that very little damage had been done.
As we all know however, nations like the United States do not rest satisfied with appearances. Visible or not, internal damages – that very possibility – preoccupied the guardians of public monuments and safety.
Thus, after meticulous inspection, it was discovered that the landmark column had indeed been damaged, cracked so badly that it had become unsafe. It has been closed down since, undergoing repairs – no visitors allowed.
If you happen to visit Washington – as I did recently – you will find that famous plinth trussed up – but quite nicely – like a valued but badly injured athlete. Do try and have that image stamped on your mind as we proceed.
There are many events that sap the morale and integrity – even credibility – of nation being, many of them completely shut out from media mention, much less branded on the public mind. I consider the brutal elimination of the highest placed Custodian of the Law one such event.
This, I believe, is a reasonable attribution, especially when you consider that it is, in effect, from such a position that authority is derived by lesser officers of the law for the pursuit – or abandonment – of judicial proceedings.
Critical as his position is however, I make the claim that even this supervening responsibility is still subordinate to the role and obligations, and innate potentiality of the community for which he holds this office in trust.
This is why, despite all appearances, and although we cannot deny that the feet of justice often appear to tread slowly, and ponderously, indeed agonizingly snail paced, we need to fasten on to the conviction that, sooner or later, it arrives.
As long as a people exist in full self-awareness, conscious of their inherent designation as the final court of jurisdiction, Justice cannot be eternally denied.
And that leads directly to the ultimate question, one which – let me emphasize and re-emphasize – merely takes on extra cogency when the voices that are denied justice are those who embody and administer justice, such as our present Celebrant, and one that we have described as the Highest Custodian of the Law.
This question on my mind applies to every past and potential seeker after justice – from the administrators of justice themselves such as our protagonist here, to the bolekaja driver shot dead by a policeman for refusing to part with 50 kobo – and that question is this: what is the role of the rest of us – the in-between humanity – while that cry for justice awaits the arrival of the chariots of Law in its awesome Majesty?
Do we adopt, literally, that often misunderstood commentary of the very Attorney-General and Minister of Justice of the nation, the very figure whose butchery constitutes my core reference for today's retrospective? Do we – fold our arms and "siddon look"?
Most of the time, it would appear that we have no option. When Justice appears to fail even its own immediate, high-echelon servants, fails to protect them and, failing, yet again fails to avenge them, the rest of us can be forgiven for succumbing to sheer inertia.
Don't forget that we all live in sheer terror of that Majesty and hate to incur its wrath, often captured in that no-appeal writ – Contempt!
That always places limitations on our scope of commentary, especially while a case is under trial. Sub judice means, watch your tongue, and that is merely one of the many areas of absolute authority that the Law exercises over the citizen.
That Majesty exercises dominance over virtually all other claimants to the vector of Power – over the politician, governor, even over Heads of State – I speak of course of ordered society, not shambolic, anarchic spaces masquerading as democracies or, more honestly, as open dictatorships.
Under both – we need no reminders – anything goes. Even the supposed enforcers of the Law, high or low, become what are known as scofflaws.
Governors are blithely selective of what court orders they obey, and presidents become completely deaf and blind to judicial orders. Following examples from on high, even the smallest minnows in the seepage of officialdom become manic in the contest for the space of power.
Where they all are bested however, is in the province of Authority – there, Law dominates. Note, I do not even qualify this by saying – in an ideal state. I mean, at all times.
Law, even where it is temporarily obscured, emasculated, predominates. Written or unwritten – Law embodies the total will of society in its self-regulation and as unexceptionable vector of a people's arbitrational intelligence – yes, Law exercises an Authority that transcends mere Power.
This is why we must task those who serve as administrators of Law with an ethical rigour, a measure that is paralleled perhaps only by what society expects of medical doctors who minister to a people's physical and mental health, or religious ministers who are preoccupied with the requirements of the spirit.
I am always at great pains, repeating for the benefit of those who are sometimes torn, or caught between these two axes – Power, and Authority – that they are as alike as any two lobes of the kola nut.
They may look the same, smell the same, taste the same, wear the same tints but, neither weighs nor measures the same. Ask any botanist or – better still – kolanut farmer.
What else but this consensus of respectful submission to Law as Authority made it possible for the nation to keep silent during those years that a notorious torturer and butcher, under the late dictator Sanni Abacha, made a mockery of its system while under trial with a series of nauseous antics?
During that trial, he insulted the patient servitors of Authority as he played for time, deployed every delaying tactic conceivable, stretched every concessionary thread in the law to its absolute limit, impugned the integrity of the courts, ever hopeful of a change in the political order – that is, hopeful of the corrupt intervention of Power, of unprincipled political bargaining under electoral calculations and ambitions – a ploy that we know, nearly did succeed in his favour under one government.
We are speaking here of a proven torturer at the very least, once brimful of his trickle-down omnipotence, who engaged in cheap variations on Nollywood blustering stereotypes in a calculated bid to delete his date with the gallows.
However, we shall not allow that case to divert us from our ultimate destination. In any case, the ball has been thrown back into the lap of the Judiciary, making it sub judice. As quite readily admitted, some of us live in mortal terror of that No-Appeal judicial pronouncement known as – Contempt.
We need to continue to sustain ourselves with that confidence in the ultimate primacy of Authority over Power, especially where verdicts that stem from the former prove a hard pill to swallow.
Even outright dictatorships – theocratic, military or simply secular – make a pretence of acknowledging this substantive authority, although we are all familiar with how structures of delegated power make a mockery of that institution subtly or brutally, piecemeal or entirely, furtively or frontally.
Despite such affronts in impunity, we must continue to identify with, and draw social solace from this manifest differentiation: Power is one thing; Authority is another.
The former is constantly up for grabs, the latter, grounded in public will – barring of course the sweeping Marxist denunciation of Law as an expression of the ruling class.
One constantly vies for attention, for extrusive supremacy, the other is innately replete in its myriad manifestations, often understated and, finally – Power is limited and ephemeral, while Authority is boundless and timeless.
This is not to deny that there are instances where Power and Authority truly converge – that, after all, is one of the craved goals of democracy. Such instances abound, but they merely remind us of the differentiation.
Here is a case in point, if I may jog memories. Very early in our career of independence in the Western Region, after exhausting the judicial structures provided within the country itself, the contenders moved their case to the Privy Council in the United Kingdom.
On the eve of judgment, the Federal government, having been apprised of the tenor of decision, quickly passed a law that nullified, in one stroke, the jurisdiction of that body over the Nigerian legal system.
That is Power at work at its crudest, a classic case of the contest between Power and Authority. By that very act of renunciation however, in an ironic way, Power had merely acknowledged the hierarchy that assigns the gavel of supremacy to Authority over and above Power, and accorded, in the process, a moral victory to the plaintiffs in the
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