Barely three months have passed since the twentieth anniversary of the murder of the late Attorney-General and Minister of Justice, Bola Ige; an occasion that I utilised to remind President Muhammadu Buhari of a subsisting election pledge. That pledge was to re-open the files on the spate of unsolved political assassinations that had plagued the nation in recent decades. Prominent among those cases was that of the Minister of Justice, murdered on his way to take up a prestigious position with the United Nations.

Presidential response was swift. Buhari ordered the Inspector-General of Police to re-open those files and resume investigations. The nation has patiently awaited even a hint of Work in Progress. Most, I am certain, expect no less than a revaluation of prior investigative efforts. None, to my knowledge, has attempted to rush the chief of Police and his team into judgment. We all take solace in the knowledge that the wheels of justice grind slowly, but they arrive. Eventually.

However, an unusual turn of events has raised questions. The ruling party, headed by the same President, has just elected as its National Secretary one of the prime suspects of this most notorious of the nation’s unsolved murders. Not for a moment does one suggest that mere accusation, even trial, presumes guilt. More than a mere verdict is involved in any trial, however. The process of arriving at that ultimate destination – justice – is integral to the very concept of democracy and equality under the law. That process is one of the structures of civic education.

Unresolved till today are quite a number of untidy, even suspect aspects of investigation, prosecution and trials, aspects which revealed improper cell co-habitation by suspects under custody. That this led necessarily to recantations of earlier depositions is not thereby proven, but the fact remains that such u-turns did take place. One was so brazen that it induced a heart attack that proved fatal to the victim’s wife, another Justice – Mrs Atinuke Ige. That the prime suspect was privileged in a number of improper ways went beyond mere allegation. Political interventions, including pressure on the judiciary during bail hearings cannot be denied. A judge under such pressure kept a diary with accusations, pages of which he consigned to friends for safe keeping.

With the emergence of the said prime suspect as National Secretary of the Ruling Party, is the Inspector-General of Police equipped to confront political obstacles in a resumption of investigation? Is there any guarantee that the result will see the light of day? How suspect, ab initio, will be the conclusions, given the present political ordering?

I repeat: We are speaking of blatant, undeniable exercise of POLITICAL interventions during investigations and the arraignment of suspects. Prior incumbency of the position of National Secretary of a ruling party has demonstrated the potent interventionist clout that can be wielded from that office. The president has personally received, and thus anointed the new incumbent. Since he remains central to any re-investigation – whatever form or direction it takes – just what value of objective assessment can be placed on the presidential pledge?

To this layman, that investigative revisit is already hamstrung and disrobed of credibility. I think the nation should simply relieve President Buhari of his pledge. I am certain the Inspector-General of Police will be equally relieved and can now turn his mind and energy to the national accustomed posture – business as usual.

Soyinka, the first Black Nobel Laureate in Literature, writes from A.R.I, Kemta Housing Estate, Abeokuta.

It is not an exaggeration to say that residents of Ogunleye Street, off Adekunle Kuye, Surulere, Lagos, will not forget so soon how they were, in the month of May 2017, thrown into mourning after a couple and three children died in a fire that engulfed the shop they used as home.

The incident was also highlighted with the destruction of three other shops in the inferno. However, the most spotlighted in the event was how Hope, the wife of the owner of the shop, Ignatius, dashed back into the raging fire, unnoticed, despite being in pains, when her children kept crying for help. But she was burnt to death with the children, Chukwuka, 9; Nonso, 7, and Ugochukwu, 6.

In a similar vein, there was an incident in a village that I cannot mention its name in this context, where a particular youth got missing in the forest; either while on his way to the farm or on his way back. For three days he was nowhere to be found despite the search groups organized by decision makers in the village to search for him. Interestingly while elders and decision makers in the village were unarguably dilly-dallying on how he should be searched for, and brought back home, the mother, who unarguably ran out of patience braced the odds, and went into the thick forest at midnight to search for the son by screaming his name with all her strength. Fortunately for her, the son heard her, and equally searched for the mother, and they eventually met, and got united once again in the forest, and consequently came back home together.

Still in the same vein, some members of a secret cult came asking for a member of a rival cult group.  Being disappointed that he was not found at home, they threatened the mother with a message that her son should expect them in two days’ time when he would be killed in the presence of his mother. When the mother heard the bullying message, she held on to the trousers of one the cultist urging him to kill her in the stead of her son. Both of them were rumbustiously struggling and arguing when policemen on patrol within the vicinity stormed on them at the scene of disagreement, and got the cultist arrested.

Early this year, precisely in the month of January, the media was agog on how a Magistrate’s Court sitting in Ado in Ado Odo Ota Local Government Area of Ogun State, remanded Mrs. Elizabeth Joseph, mother of Joshua Joseph, an SS3 Student of Toyan High School, Ere, who allegedly beat up a teacher. Looked from whichever ramifications, the point remains that mothers can go to any length to protect their children or throw their weight behind them; no matter whose ox is gored.

Without doubt, the foregoing anecdotes are not made-up or out-of-the-way. They are aptly the descriptions of how mothers’ emotional react when their children are in danger.

Again, apart from mother’s love being unconditional, it is also instinctual. It is a situation where mothers become overprotective, and want to protect their children from harm, hurt and pain, unhappiness, bad experiences and rejection, hurt feelings, failure and disappointments.

In fact, the word, Mother, alone brings forth a wealth of emotions. Perhaps you didn’t have the kind of mother you felt you wanted or needed. Maybe your mother could do no wrong in your eyes. Perhaps your mother wasn’t part of your life at all. No matter the relationship, a commonality we all share is that our mothers gave birth to us.

Without any iota of exaggeration, there are exceptions, mothers instinctively love, nurture and safeguard their children. We can even see this in the animal kingdom as a mother bear guards her cubs or a goose chases away anyone near her precious eggs.

A mother’s love is both strong and tender, and they long to see their children happy and thriving. Their heart’s desire is to step in and protect, but a wise mother also knows when to say “no” and let her child feel the painful consequence of a decision he or she has made. In this same way, our heavenly father loves his children and hears their petitions. He sometimes answers us with a “no” and often times He too, allows us to feel the pain of the consequences of our choices.

Be that as it may, my mom, never for once missed a teachable moment, and she usually told me that God gave mothers maternal instinct so that His love for us would be magnified.

A mother’s love, she said, is beyond measure, but the closest comparison is God’s sacrificial love. Years later, as a young mother myself, I found her words rang true. I love my children more than mere words can ever tell.

In fact, nothing hurts a mother more than seeing one of her children hurting, and if we could, we would gladly switch places and take their pain upon us. Mothers have a love so great and deep that they would readily die for the children they so love.

As we honor our mothers and the life they gave us, particularly since we celebrated them on the platform of Mother’s Day, let us also remember that Christ did step in to take our place and He offers us a life that is eternal.

Since his death in March, 2006, not minding the galaxy of topnotch legal colossi that Nigeria has sired ever since, many schools of thought hold that Nigeria had not been able to reincarnate Chief Frederick Rotimi Alade Williams, QC, SAN. I argue to the contrary, however that, in Chief Wole Olanipekun, Williams is very much alive with the Nigerian bar. The late Queen’s Counsel had oscillated in the legal firmament, both literally and with his immense physical stature.

Like Williams, Olanipekun has also traversed the world of law. First Nigerian to become a Senior Advocate of Nigeria (SAN), a staunch member of the Action Group, Minister for Local Government and Western Region’s first Attorney General, the first Nigerian to be so appointed and and then, Minister of Justice in 1959, Williams became president of the Nigerian Bar Association (NBA). When lawyers cite groundbreaking precedents like the Lakanmi vs the Western Government of Nigeria and the landmark case involving the Oba of Lagos, Adeniji Adele against the Nigerian National Democratic Party, (NNDP) Williams’ legal wizardry and imprimatur encompass them all.

Years after Williams’ departure however, arguably, there is no Nigerian lawyer who has traversed the firmament of law like Ikere-Ekiti-born legal colossus, Olanipekun.  Thus, when the Nigerian Body of Benchers, a professional body that is concerned with the regulation of the legal profession in Nigeria and admission of prospective students into the Nigerian Law School, chose Olanipekun as its Chairman, the reverberations of that choice have persisted across the length and breadth of Nigeria.

Called to the bar in July, 1976 after graduation from the Nigerian Law School and becoming a SAN in July 1991, Olanipekun eventually became Ondo State’s Attorney General and Commissioner for Justice.

Perhaps the most-talked about period of his legal career and which happens to be his most profound engagement with the bar, was in 2002 when he was elected President of the NBA. Legal pundits liken that period to the Alao Aka-Basorun leadership of the bar for its overarching impact on the profession and the lives of the individual bar member. The year after, Olanipekun got appointed vice President of the Pan African Lawyers and in January, 2007, became a Life Bencher, one of the most prestigious heights of attainment in the law profession. The University of Ibadan still talks with nostalgia about his period as its Pro-Chancellor and Chairman, Governing Council between 2004 and 2006. Apart from being a Fellow of the Chartered Institute of Arbitrators (FCIArb.), Olanipekun was also bestowed with the national honour of Officer of the Federal Republic, (OFR).

Olanipekun’s appointment as Chairman of Body of Benchers is an icing on the cake of a firm leadership of the Nigerian lawyers that he has given over the years, as well as an authoritative stamp on his demonstrable pedigree of proven track records at the bar. These will no doubt push the Nigerian bar into greater achievements.

Congratulations, Learned Silk.

Adedayo is Ibadan based Journalist

I never got the impression that Biodun Baiyewu writes good plays until I watched her play, Beere, at the Shehu Musa Yar’Adua Centre, recently. Biodun is the Executive Director of Global Rights, an NGO, and we were together at the 2009 creative writing workshop organised by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. Years did pass before I got to know she writes plays too. Now that I watched Beere, I see Biodun from a new perspective; the perspective of her creative and clever take on African women, particularly the Egba women of the 1940s in Ogun State, Nigeria.

Her work reminds us that there were women in the past who started the emancipation process which led to many of the things that now appear normal in today’s Nigeria. They weren’t in the past. Some women had to sit up and fight in a society where it was common to hear women referred to as “mere women.” Beere speaks my language for many reasons. One, the play tells our own story, the Nigerian story, the story of African women, which I think we don’t tell enough. Like Biodun said after the play, “we’re Nigerians” and we’re proud of who we are. One way to display this is by telling of our heroic deeds. We do have heroic deeds just as we have heroes who made them happen.

In fact, we’re the heroes we wish to see. Biodun puts these words in the mouth of one of her major characters, the reason the character told her granddaughter the story of Egba women who revolted against colonial oppression. At the forefront of the revolt in the 1940s were Mrs Soyinka, mother of Prof Wole Soyinka, the Nobel Laureate, as well as Mrs Funmilayo Ransom Kuti (alias Beere), the mother of Fela Anikulapo Kuti, the late afrobeat musician. As a result of Egba women’s activism, the Alake of Egbaland at the time was compelled to abdicate. The grandmother who told this story was making the point to her granddaughter that if she wanted changes in how the nation was run, if she was looking for heroes who would bring about changes, it was best that she, the granddaughter, got prepared to be that hero she looked for in others. You can’t sit and wait vainly for others to effect change in society. Change begins with us. We are the heroes we seek, the same way the women of Egba became heroes because they didn’t sit and wait for others to bring about the change they desired. They went for the change themselves and they got it.

Now, the other reason Beere speaks my language is connected to the first. Recently, I congratulated another fellow of the 2009 Chimamanda Adichie workshop over the independence anniversary of her nation, Ghana, on March 6. Martina, better known by her pen name, Mamle Kabu or Mamle Wolo, notes in her response that her nation has its challenges too but she and others are doing what they can “in our various corners” to bring about change. I respond to her that such is the spirit, the kind of things I state whenever I have the opportunity. Note that Martina, an award-winning writer, partly has European roots, but she loves Ghana and she’s lived there all her life, making her contribution to the country as a creative writer. Those are the kind of people I pay attention to, not those who escape to enjoy material comfort abroad only to disparage their African roots.

Biodun displays the same mentality as Martina’s in Beere and I’m not surprised. Creative writers have a few things in common. This is a lady who also has a part of her roots abroad (and she did school abroad at a stage). But like other people that I’ve praised on this page (who could have stayed abroad, but who choose to stay here and do their best for our nation), Biodun looks at a real life story that projects us as a proud people, proud of our heritage, and puts it in the form of a play to project a particular narrative. With the narrative she adopted, she did bring out a few issues which reflect what she believes and what she practises. As a lawyer and an activist, she shows those strains through the Egba women. For me, her interpretation of the events of the 1940s is apt along these lines because we all see things differently and we interpret them differently, and she does hers in the best tradition of creative writers.

These are trying times in Nigeria, but many don’t play their part in their corners; rather they insult ‘government.’ It’s the reason I have this distaste for some of the criticisms out there in the public space. Those who lift no fingers to do a thing are the more virulent critics. It’s good to criticise what’s not right in your nation. But if you make the mistake of running your mouth without telling me what you do differently in your corner, I will ask you hard questions. Those who shout the loudest are the ones who harm this nation the most in their corners. We go to the public agencies they head, there we see them mismanage the place but insult ‘government’ for the collective outcome.

Biodun as an activist isn’t busy criticising the government, rather she uses her training as a lawyer and her training as a creative writer to educate each of us to do something, to be the hero we wish to see when it comes to changing what we don’t like about our nation. In that sense, Biodun’s Beere speaks my language loudly. In her words, Biodun notes that since British Colonial Nigeria, the trajectory of Nigeria’s political history has been replete with civil rights movements, which have been very instrumental in achieving significant socio-political impacts. Set in 1947, Beere presents the story of the Egba women’s revolt – a resistance movement led by Funmilayo Ransome Kuti against the corrupt imposition of unfair taxation by the then colonial government. According to the playwright, Beere portrays the power of collective and inclusive citizen action in addressing governance issues. And so it did; I meant, the power of the collective as well as citizen action.

I’ve been surprised at how we often overlook these in our desire for a better nation. There’re those who go to the streets to protest regarding issues that matter to them. There are those who speak up. There’re many who don’t partake in this and it’s not possible that everybody would. However, it should be noted that each of us can be an activist in something, we can be heroes in our corners. We can by at least carrying out the civic responsibility that every Nigerian who wants good governance should carry out. Voting during election. But this too is largely ignored by many. Those who don’t vote make the most noise and they’re mostly in parts of the country where the most virulent criticisms of ‘government’ come from.

Some of us take these contradictions seriously, so it’s difficult to accept the insults being thrown by Nigerians in this category? I can’t understand a Nigerian who wouldn’t do a thing, even exercise their civic responsibility by voting during election but expects the best of governance. There’re as well those who collect money from politicians before they vote, scorning those who say they shouldn’t. It’s worth noting that the part of the country where some collect money to vote is also where criticisms of ‘government’ mostly come from. Yet many of them are online insulting the ‘government’ they voted for after they collected money.

If there’re Nigerians with the mentality that they can insult other tribes, and insult other people’s religion over the state of the nation while they sit and do nothing, Beere, the play, is a helpful rebuttal. It’s another evidence of what some of us point to, but which some pretend they don’t understand. It’s our public space though, and those who do nothing except blame everyone else for the condition of this nation are highly welcome in it. But they should have enough presence of mind to accept that we’re here too – those of us who believe it’s irresponsible of any citizen to expect benefits without having responsibility.

To be continued….