The Rule of Law and Nigeria’s Democracy
By Femi Olugbile
Last Friday, a public webinar with the above title took place, hosted by the Voice of Reason, a group of Nigerians of South-West extraction who devote time and energy to deliberations and actions focussed on how the human and developmental needs of their geographical space, and by extension the entirety of Nigeria, may be progressed to achieve its full potential.
A three-man panel was assembled to dig out the entrails of a fraught subject that has hamstrung the Nigeria Project and contributed to its perpetual socio-economic dystopia.
The keynote presentation was delivered by peripatetic Historian and Professor of African Studies, Toyin Falola, one of the most published academics in the world, and the Jacob and Frances Sanger Mossiker Chair in the Humanities at the University of Texas at Austin. The other panellists were Mr Soji Awogbade, an eminent figure in the Nigerian Corporate Law space and co-founder of the law firm AELEX, and Mr Kehinde Aina, Senior Advocate of Nigeria and founder of the Lagos Multidoor Courthouse.
Dr Ebun Sonaiya, Chairman of the Voice of Reason, opened the discourse. He described part of the mission of his group as creating civic awareness and went on to say that without the rule of law, democracy could not be actualised.
The moderator, Dr Leke Oshuniyi, suave, debonair Health Insurance guru and man of many parts, highlighted an imperative for a collective effort to enthrone the rule of law in Nigeria in the face of rampant impunity and public distrust.
The road was now clear for the lead speaker.
Toyin Falola – ‘TF’ – was not going to read his lecture, he announced straight off as he took the microphone, but rather he would speak to it. In the tradition of the Ife-Ibadan ‘progressive’ intelligentsia that grew around Soyinka and the likes of GG Darah and Femi Osofisan half a century ago, he showed a penchant for extending his creativity to the crafting of his own clothing. Today he wore a ‘fila’ with the silvery letters ‘TF’ emblazoned.
Parables and animal stories were a familiar part of the growing up experience of every African child. He loved to use such stories to drive his message home. Was the law the same for everyone, or could it be a yoke for some, and a weapon of oppression for others?
Jomo Kenyatta, erstwhile Mau Mau fighter and later President of Kenya, told the story of how the fox observed that human beings were living comfortably in houses which gave them shelter from the elements. The fox suggested to other animals that they too could build houses and be comfortable. They agreed and urged him to go ahead. He proceeded to build a house. As soon as he finished the lion moved in and drove him out. Undaunted, he built another house. Again, another big predator drove him out of the house and took possession. Instead of giving up, he went on to build his biggest and best-crafted house. But just as soon as he finished the elephant strolled in majestically and kicked him out. Chagrined, the fox put fire to the house and burned it down with the elephant inside. If he could not live peacefully in the house he built, nobody would live there either. That was Justice, in his eyes, and a natural Law.
TF’s next story was of how in 1787, the founding fathers of the United States of America – white men who saw the brown ‘Indians’ they met on the ground and the black people they imported as slaves as inferior to them, signed the famous Constitution that opened with the line ‘We the people of the United States…’ , referring only to white people like themselves. The Second Amendment, which referred to ‘A well-coordinated Militia…’ empowered white folk to carry arms to defend their power. The fallout from the unwritten implications of that Constitution was what was being played out now with Donald Trump and his MAGA ‘revolution’.
His third story, a true story, according to him, was about an Alaafin of Oyo who, one morning was being assisted by his wife as he took his bath.
‘You are so small,’ she said, jokingly. ‘Why are people so afraid of you?’
That evening, Alaafin organised a banquet in his palace. At the peak of the festivities, he ordered the said wife to come forward and open two covered calabashes on the dais. Inside were the severed heads of her father and mother.
‘You wanted to know why people are afraid of Alaafin? This is why.’
Alaafin was the law.
There was a lot wrong with Nigeria, TF averred. Starting from a fraudulent, over-bloated population figure of 200 million. There was dysfunction, underpinned by corruption and disregard for legal norms. Continued erosion of the Rule of Law could lead to national collapse. Nigeria could reform itself, ultimately, but only ‘if we put our minds to it’.
Soji Awogbade spoke of how trust in government was undermined wherever people felt they had no access to Justice. In making laws, it was necessary to ask if it was better to base them on ‘universal’ principles or try to adapt them to the customs and mores of the people, to secure their compliance and ownership.
Kehinde Aina, who came on after some technical delay, observed that tyranny began where the rule of law ended. In Nigeria, there seemed to be a law for people in authority, and another for the rest of the people, a veritable prescription for distrust and even chaos. Integrity, decency and decorum were often sadly missing. Traditional values emphasising justice and the imperative to follow the rules needed to be brought back into the scheme of things, somehow.
Questions and comments followed from the audience. Awogbade and Aina fielded the questions as best they could, as TF appeared to have dropped out from the meeting, perhaps due to a technical glitch. It was easy to tell the audience were exercised, face to face suddenly with a problem which they all realised with stark insight might hold the key to the future of their nation.
