As I have noted in my last two interventions, beyond the challenges confronting the judiciary and lawyers in the core dispensation of justice, there are equally troubling issues in the routine administration of the lawyers’ association, the Nigerian Bar Association itself. It is important that we do not treat this subject as a peripheral concern, for the strength of the Bar is intrinsically tied to the health of the justice system. When the Bar falters, the temple of justice trembles. Since 1992, the Association has hardly been free from crisis. Not only has it experienced a steady decline in cohesion and influence, but its elections have consistently been marred by controversy, disputes, and lingering litigation. What ought to be a dignified and orderly process of leadership transition has, over time, become a theatre of contestation. As we approach another election cycle, there are already about three cases pending in court, a development that does little to inspire confidence in the integrity of the process.
One is compelled to ask: How did we get here? This naturally raises a fundamental question: What exactly is at stake in this Bar Association that contesting for leadership positions has become a do-or-die affair? Is it truly a desire to serve that motivates those seeking offices, or are there underlying incentives that have transformed service into a contest for personal gain, influence, and relevance? These are not idle questions; they go to the very heart of what leadership within the Bar ought to represent. If service were the primary driver, it is doubtful that the contests would be this bitter, divisive, and at times, openly hostile. The intensity with which these elections are fought suggests that something deeper is at play. The Bar, historically conceived as a noble institution grounded in ethics, intellectualism, and public service, now finds itself grappling with tendencies more commonly associated with partisan politics.
There now appears to be little distinction between the conduct of political party actors and that of lawyers aspiring to leadership within the Bar. Campaign strategies, alliances, endorsements, lobbying tactics, and even propaganda, mirror the patterns we see in the political arena. In fact, there now appears to be a crop of professional Bar Association politicians, some of whose legal practice is nothing to write home about, yet who thrive on the politics of the Bar, obviously for survival. It is therefore no surprise that maladministration has crept into the system, as the competence of this group or class is, at best, doubtful. Indeed, the financial demands of running campaigns have escalated significantly, reaching levels comparable to those required of politicians seeking public offices.
Campaign offices, branded materials, digital outreach, mobilisation logistics, and strategic alliances, all require substantial funding. This monetisation of the electoral process not only excludes capable but less affluent candidates, it also raises serious ethical concerns about the expectations of “returns” once in office. For, as the Yoruba would say, bí a bá ná owó ìtànkál, a máa retí èrè r, he who invests heavily in a venture inevitably expects a return. The reality in contemporary times is that charlatans now run many of these offices. Even more troubling is the growing tendency among younger members of the profession to demand material benefits from aspirants. What once might have been subtle lobbying or voluntary support has now evolved into open transactional engagement.
This ranges from the payment of enrolment and conference fees to the sponsorship of accommodation, transportation, and even feeding allowances for attendees of Bar conferences, meetings and events. In some instances, these demands are made as a precondition for support. One is left to wonder whether we are nurturing future leaders or breeding a culture of dependency and entitlement. Regrettably, it is this contaminated lot that eventually emerges as the leaders of tomorrow, not only of the Bar Association but of the country as a whole. This further explains, in part, the leadership challenges the nation is presently experiencing. This culture of entitlement is not only unhealthy; it is corrosive. It undermines the very principles of merit, integrity, and selfless service upon which the legal profession is supposed to stand. The legal profession, by its very nature, demands discipline, restraint, and a commitment to higher ideals. When its members begin to commodify their support and reduce leadership contests to transactional exchanges, the moral foundation of the profession is gradually eroded.
The implications of this trend are far-reaching. Leaders who emerge from such a process are often burdened by obligations, both explicit and implicit, to those who financed or facilitated their emergence. This is even reflected in the constitution of committees and the placement of incompetent members in institutions and bodies. We have seen Bar “activists” with little or no sound practice emerging as Benchers and Life Benchers, an institution in the legal profession meant for lawyers who have attained distinction. This inevitably compromises their independence. It becomes increasingly difficult for such leaders to take principled stands, particularly when those stands may conflict with the interests of their benefactors or political patrons. In effect, the leader becomes a product of compromise even before assuming office.
Consequently, the Bar, which ought to serve as a fearless watchdog and a moral compass in society, risks becoming subdued, compromised, and reactive rather than proactive. The once vibrant Bar we knew, an institution defined by courage, intellectual rigour, and principled advocacy, has gradually lost much of its essence. There was a time when the Bar stood as the conscience of the nation, speaking truth to power without fear or favour. Today, that voice appears increasingly muted. Rather than agitating substance, it most times pursues shadows. When a Bar Association cannot speak meaningfully on unemployment, the energy crisis, or food insecurity, but would rather expend its energy interrogating flimsy and inconsequential issues such as tinted glass permits, an issue that affects less than 2 percent of motorists in Nigeria and an infinitesimal fraction of the population, one begins to question its priorities.
This is particularly so when such practices are largely associated with status symbols of the bourgeois class and, in some cases, have implications for security. One cannot but marvel at how we arrived at this point. Increasingly, its officers rely, directly or indirectly, on patronage from public office holders. Even the sponsorship of the Association’s events is now routinely placed on the laps of government officials and entities, notwithstanding the dues and conference fees charged to members. The recurring refrain is that these resources are never sufficient. One would have expected that the Association would operate within its means rather than going cap in hand all over the place like alms seekers, the al majiris, beggars. This dependence erodes institutional autonomy and weakens the Bar’s ability to discharge its constitutional and moral responsibilities. When those who should hold the government accountable begin to seek its favour, the consequences for justice and democracy are dire. As another Yoruba proverb warns, ẹni tí ó bá jẹ́ kó níyì, tí ó sì tún jẹ́ kó níṣòro, kì í lè jẹ́ olóòótọ́—he who is beholden cannot be truly independent; he who pays the piper dictates the tune. It is also important to note that this decline did not happen overnight. It is the product of years of gradual compromise, the normalisation of unethical practices, and the absence of decisive internal reforms. Like a slow but persistent erosion, the values that once defined the Bar have been worn down by expediency and silence. Silence, in many instances, has enabled misconduct.
Complicity, whether active or passive, has allowed it to thrive. And where there ought to have been firm resistance, there has often been accommodation. This brings us to a critical and somewhat uncomfortable question: who will reform those who are meant to be the reformers? If the Bar itself is entangled in the very vices it ought to challenge, where then lies the hope for institutional renewal? Can an institution cleanse itself without first acknowledging its own failings? The answer, perhaps, lies in a collective awakening, a moment of introspection and recommitment by members, especially the younger generation, to the foundational ethics of the profession. Reform must be both structural and cultural. It is not enough to amend rules; we must also reshape attitudes. It is not enough to enforce compliance; we must inspire conviction. There is a need to revisit and strengthen electoral guidelines within the Bar. Spending limits must be clearly defined and strictly enforced.
Transparent monitoring mechanisms should be introduced to ensure compliance. The use of inducements, whether direct or indirect, must attract meaningful sanctions. Unanimously acceptable technology must also be embraced to give comfort to all aspirants, enhance transparency in voting, and reduce opportunities for manipulation. In fact, the contest for the office of the President of the country is, in some respects, less demanding than that of a national officer of the Bar Association, who is expected to visit numerous branches across the country to garner meaningful support. This is unduly burdensome. Although I may not have a complete solution at this stage, it is evident that this model must be urgently reviewed to reduce the trauma associated with participation. What is particularly worrisome is the sheer number of branch visits required and the attendant financial implications, which are sufficient to discourage and frustrate genuinely capable aspirants. Equally important is the reorientation of members away from material inducements toward issue-based engagement.
Members must begin to interrogate candidates not on what they can offer materially, but on what they stand for intellectually and ethically. What is their vision for the Bar? How do they intend to strengthen the profession? What reforms do they propose? These are the questions that should define electoral choices. Leadership within the Bar must once again be seen as a call to serve, not an avenue for personal advancement or patronage. The dignity of the profession demands nothing less. As custodians of justice, lawyers must hold themselves to a higher standard. Anything short of this diminishes not only the profession but also the society it serves. Ultimately, we must ask ourselves whether we are prepared to restore the dignity of the profession or continue on this path of gradual decline.
The Bar cannot afford to mirror the worst tendencies of the political class it is meant to check. If it does, it loses not only its moral authority but also its relevance in the broader quest for justice and societal progress. The choice before us is clear but demanding. It requires courage, honesty, and a willingness to confront uncomfortable truths. It requires leaders who are prepared to rise above personal interests and members who are willing to reject inducements in favour of integrity. It requires, above all, a return to first principles. For if the foundation be destroyed, what can the righteous do? The Association, just like the profession itself, urgently requires rescue.
Comments