Once upon a time… time,
time!!
There was an association of
first class citizens; the real descendants of Adam and Eve or Adamu and Hawa or
Dear Boy (It’s unclear who was his female reproductive counterpart). The
association was so bedeviled by nagging problems that, the members sent word to
the occupant of the third most important stool in the kingdom, praying for a
date for a meeting at 9 a.m in the forenoon that same day or so soon
thereafter. When the third-most-important man received the message, he was
excited at the prospect of meeting and listening to whatever was giving his
compatriots a flea in the ear.
And thus it was that the meeting
hour arrived and a member of the association constituted her/himself a
spokesperson (name and gender unknown – most likely, a hermaphrodite – so
she/he will hereafter be referred to simply as “they”, for ease of reference).
So, they were dressed in full association regalia of cream-coloured faux horse
hair wigs that cascaded to their knees, and black gabardine frock over
three-piece suits that had seen many summers. They ascended a dozen flight of
stairs into the third-most-important-man’s chamber, sweating, panting and
cursing with each step taken. Well-known for his great sense of hospitality and
affinity to tradition, the third-most-important-man had spared no effort in
laying on a feast of local delicacies for his august guests.
The third-most-important-man
was truly elated when they arrived. They were ushered into the
third-most-important man’s Olympic-sized chamber and had the tortious task of
doing the 100-metre catwalk from the door to the desk where the
third-most-important man was already upstanding, waiting to welcome his guests
in an embrace, with two kisses on the cheeks, in the manner of aristocrats
steeped in tradition.
With the indoor 100-metre
dash over, the third-most-important man ordered his Usher to serve hors
d’oeuvre to set the stage for the feast, in keeping with tradition.
But before the Usher would return, they started shaking, with uncontrollable
tears, as big as raindrops, streaming down their cheeks, thereby messing their
white collaret and wing tips with rainbow colours. The third-most-important-man
was stunned at the pitiful sight and he quickly grabbed a box of tissue paper
in a kente-inspired paper box which he keeps on his desk as part of the
‘preserving tradition for posterity’ agenda. They were very appreciative of the
third-most-important man’s kindness and thanked him profusely. Not knowing what
other emotional surprise they may have under their sleeves, the
third-most-important man knew better than to keep crying babies with no
activity.
The
third-most-important-man, therefore, decided to put a hold on the traditional
niceties of hosting guests and to cut to the chase. He launched straight into
‘the purpose of the gathering’ segment. This is what ensued:
The
third-most-important-man: “Hello, association members, you’re
welcome once again.”
They:
“The pleasure is all ours, Your Eminence, Your
Third-Most-Important-Man-in-the-Kingdom, Your Lord Temporal, Your 26th Third-Most-Important,
Your Numero Trois J…” Before they could finish off whatever accolades they had
conjured up in the spare of the moment, the third-most-important man cut in
neatly: “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this teary visit?” Whereupon they
started a long narration, interspersed with sobs and nose-blowing, thereby
using up all of the third-most-important-man’s tissue, leaving the traditional
kente box containing the tissue empty and sad. “Such nuisance!” the
third-most-important-man muttered to himself. Thankfully, not to you-know-who’s
hearing.
They then started the
‘Sermon in the Chamber’; of course, the sobbing continuing unabated, much to
the third-most-important-man’s discomfort: “My Lord Temporal, there is a
creeping development in our association, and if you do not intervene, all the
great work you have been doing to preserve our hallowed traditions since you
became the 26th will come to naught.” “Holy Mary, Mother of
Jee-zaz! What could this unfathomable problem be? Haste me to know’t, that I,
with wings as swift as meditation or the thoughts of love, may sweep to my,
erm, action!” With such firm assurance of action, they carried on: ”So, Right
Honourable, the problem is that, nowadays, the young members of our association
are not respecting tradition. Those under pupillage, as you are well aware, by
the debilitating decision of the Court of Appeal in Klu v Laryea, do
not have audience before our Courts. But instead of them to wake up, bath and
come and sit in courtrooms and see seniors display their well-honed art of
advocacy and learn, they don’t come. And for the juniors who are one to ten years
old at the Bar who come to Court, (by the association’s rules, a senior is ten
or more years at the Bar) they don’t wait for us to teach them the finer tenets
of advocacy. They are always in a hurry, forgetting that ‘omnis festinatio ex parte diaboli est’[1]. My-Lord-Who-is-Lord, in
times like this, we miss Atuguba, JSC. His Lordship it was who was protecting
legal Latin within our jurisdiction to preserve tradition. At our next
association meeting, we will table a motion to confer an award on His Lordship
in retirement, as the last champion and award winner of ‘Latin as Legal
Language‘ in our generation. We miss him more so because we are still looking
for the vernacular translation of ‘ut
floreat justitia’ as used by His Lordship in Ex parte Oblie.[2]
Even our friend, the Prince Royal, swears he doesn’t know what those exotic
Latin words mean. Now, Your Eminence, as we were saying, when the ‘young ones’
come to Court, they bully and shove us the seniors aside and get their cases
called. They intimidate us so much that most of our senior members have stopped
practicing. This is the biggest problem confronting our association in 2022 and
if we do not nip it in the bud, in a year’s time, all senior members will stop
practicing law and the tradition of wearing our beloved wigs and gowns (as we
are dressed right now), which you have done so much to preserve, will only be
on display in a corner of the refurbished National Museum for curious
kindergarteners to go and see and learn how their ancestors dressed to court up
to A.D 2022. So you see, Your Great No. Threeship, you need to step in and put
the junior members on the straight and narrow path. We entreat you, Our
Precious Lord, to pass a constitutional instrument (C.I) to provide for the
following: ‘If you are a junior and have been sent to Court to take a date or
you have a motion ex parte of any kind, it shall be mandatory
for you to sit in the courtroom till all seniors present finish their cases and
hearings before your case shall be called.’ That will be preserving the best
tradition of our profession. Our Lord Temporal-semi-Spiritual, we rest our case
and submit accordingly.” They blew their noses loudest for the last time to
signify the end of the tears and the hope for a favourable response to come.
For several minutes, the
third-most-important-man remained quiet and kept rubbing his temples gently,
lost in deep thought. After what seemed like eternity, he started off in a
cool, gentlemanly fashion as follows: “Thank you very much for coming and for
bringing me such vital information. I will take the necessary action to ensure
that the best traditions of our profession are preserved. That’s the legacy I’m
leaving for you. Wearing of wigs and gowns from District Court to Supreme Court
all year round has been reinstated and entrenched as you are aware. The
Divisions created in the High Court have been shuffled so that, if you are a
Commercial or Labour Court Judge, and a cockroach is found in a bottle of water
and the purchaser sues, it may be assigned to you. If you don’t remember your
tort law on product liability, go and learn. High Courts are being moved from
the purpose-built High Court Complex back to their pre-colonial premises. As a
direct outcome, of this fantastic move I made, the traditional gridlock vehicular
traffic on the High Street is back with a vengeance. So you see, a lot is
already being done to preserve tradition so what you call your problem is not a
problem at all. The measures I’ll put in place to deal with the situation will
bring their better nature to the fore; I mean your junior lawyers who are
growing too big for their breeches. Consider it done.”
“And by the way, how are
your members faring?” inquired the third-most-important man. “Oh, they are all
very very very fine, Sir. They send their heartfelt felicitations,” they
replied with glee. With such assurances of contentment amongst the general
membership of the association, the third-most-important-man decided to ask a
few questions to bring the meeting to a close.
The third-most-important man:
“So, how are you enjoying the e-justice system?”
They: “e-who?”
The third-most-important
man: “E-Justice, oh!”
They: “Ahhhh, that thing, we
have forgotten about it o, Your Eminence.”
The third-most-important
man: “I mean, is it working?”
They: No, Right Honourable.
The third-most-important
man: Do you get notified when a Judge will not be sitting so that you don’t
waste time, energy and resources to drive to court?
They: No, Your Lordship
Temporal.
The third-most-important
man: Is there adequate parking at the Court Complex?
They: No, Your Learned
Eminence.
The third-most-important
man: After introducing ADR through C.I 133 and C.I 134, has the use of ADR in
settling cases become popular?
They: No.
The third-most-important
man: Have you conducted your Regional Branch executive elections six
months into the current legal year?
They: No.
The
third-most-important man: And you say your biggest problem is a young member
who will not sit in court and listen to your hoarse voices and atrocious legal
submissions. Come on, leave my presence before I call my orderly to apply
maximum force to remove you.”
To aid swift movement, they
removed the wigs and gowns, rolled them into one folded garment, stuffed it in
the bin on their way out, and took to their heels.
The End.
