I have coined the word ‘polemoir’ as a blend of polemic and memoir to describe Dele Farotimi’s book titled ‘Nigeria and Its Criminal Justice System’, largely because it incorporates the features of a polemic (an argument/controversy) and a memoir (a kind of autobiography that describes the writer’s personal experiences with a focus on a particular subject).

Following the meaning contrived in the title that it exposes the “criminalities” in the justice system of Nigeria as a whole, and the libellous suit filed against the writer by one of the doyens of the Nigerian bar, Aare Afe Babalola, which arguably skyrocketed its sales globally, I joined many of its growing community of readers with the hope to welcome the “truths” that the title insinuates about the Nigerian justice system. But as I began with a blurb on the back of its hardcover by the Nigerian journalist Rufai Oseni, my great expectation for objectivity surpassing sentiment began to diminish.

I have always questioned the professionalism of many Nigerian journalists who would use three minutes to ask a question that should not take more than five seconds, especially those who always assert themselves with opinions that one is unsure who the guest is in the studio and fondly interrupt any guest not saying what they want to hear. That is, by the way, and I crave the reader’s absolution for digressing.

Given that Farotimi is well known as an ardent supporter of Peter Obi, the presidential candidate of the Labour Party (whom I also supported), the author quickly refutes the timing of the publication of the book as being a post-traumatic effect of the Supreme Court’s judgment that upheld President Bola Ahmed Tinubu as the winner of the arguably most controversial and closely contested Presidential election in the history of Nigeria. Farotimi assures that his position precedes his involvement “with the Peter Obi presidential campaign” and his “exertions are completely nonpartisan.”

He further reveals that the “manuscript of the book has been ready for publication since May 2023”, but he consciously waited for the announcement of the presidential election by the Supreme Court before publishing it. This raises doubt as to whether this book would have seen the light of the day had the Supreme Court announced the author’s preferred candidate as the winner of the election. Perhaps the Nigerian justice system would have been celebrated;  just perhaps. Nevertheless, the author seethes the ruling and lampoons the Nigerian judiciary thus: “The last hope of the common man in Nigeria is lost and the CJN might as well prescribe the removal of the colonial wig and degree that every judge should adorn the Tinubu cap in its stead.”

Farotimi’s ‘Nigeria and Its Criminal Justice System’ is almost half a memoir about the writer’s passion for law from his childhood, portraying a family background in which he posits he “was born a lawyer” to his various legal work experiences that seldom show any decay in the Nigerian justice system as presumed in the title. The writer himself acknowledges the classification of the book as a form of life writing, noting that “whilst this book was never intended as an autobiography, it is necessarily thematically autobiographical.”

The other part largely presents the lawyer’s arguments around a single overarching case widely known as ‘Gbadamos-Eletu’s Case’. The sparing cases encapsulated in the book show it is less about the Nigerian judiciary as a whole and more precisely about the Gbadamos-Eletus’ case in Lagos. The book largely indicts Babalola, the law firm of S.B Joseph and co., Atilade, O (justice), and Oyekan Abdullahi (justice). The latter, who served as the chairwoman in Farotimi’s wedding ceremony, is accused of being “the instrument of injustice employed to deny” the writer’s filed suit against Babalola in court.

Lawyers are wont to say in Latin, “nemo judex in causa sua”, which means a person should not be a judge in a case where their interests are involved. This notion disqualifies any assumption that truth is completely presented in the book. Based on the African proverb, “The reason we all have two ears is to listen to both sides of an argument”, the reader may also expect to hear the sides of the aforementioned accused individuals before picking a side.

This article is not a defence of any of the individuals depicted in the book but a defence of the Nigerian judiciary, which, like many other organisations in the world, has its merits and demerits. This article posits that the judicial anomalies surrounding Gbadamosi Eletu vs Ojomu’s case, as presented in the book, are insufficient to de-market the Nigerian judicial system as “criminal.”

The writer, in the book, hyperbolises. He wrote, “I have seen injustice everywhere within the Nigerian court system. I am a lawyer with over two decades of law practice behind me. I have interacted with our judicial system as a practitioner, as a victim, and as the aggrieved. There is no justice to be had in our criminal justice system, and I have become convinced that the system itself is criminal and completely incapable of delivering justice to anyone…”

From the foregoing, one of the ellipses or silent ideas that has been relegated as the writer describes his interaction with the judicial system is his victory in the same judicial system. The notion of not having justice in what the book labels as the “criminal justice system” is contradicted in the same book, which also portrays a case that the writer won for one of his clients, admitting, “I took solace in comforting myself by using the Balogun case as proof that the clients that lost faith in my capacity to deliver justice to them were wrong….”

The text largely accuses Babalola of manipulating the Supreme Court in the “254 Hectares of Land grabbing case” (Gbadamosi Eletu vs Ojomu) in Lagos. It describes him as “the grandmaster of judicial corruption in Nigeria”.

Meanwhile, the writer added, “I have done whatever I have needed to do in order to advance my clients’ interests in the past, but I have always been careful to play within the rules.” He considers himself brave. “I am no shrinking violet,” to point out those who have not “been careful to play within” the Nigerian laws. The writer’s acceptance that he is “no saint” reinforces the notion that since no one is without sin, those with lesser sins may point out those with greater sins. Among many other allegations, the author alleges to have “seen enough by the end of September 2013 to be convinced that there was a high-level conspiracy involving elements in the Supreme Court, the Lagos judiciary, Babalola and his crew and with the Eletus as co-beneficiaries”, that “Afe was offered part of the land that had been packaged for Eletus by the Lagos conspirators”, and presents court evidences at the annexure of the book to show that “the Supreme Court’s judgement was doctored.”

The book depicts the traumatic effect of a lawyer losing a case “unjustly.”

“As the trauma of the Eletu case left me increasingly disillusioned with the law and the pursuit of the corruptors of the court of justice became very personal to me…,” he wrote.

According to the writer, the book is a response and “protest” to Oyekan-Abdullahi’s refusal to attend to the libel suit he once filed against Babalola. He alleges that “Afe has been corrupting the Supreme Court from ages past and has led it to commit the most egregious acts of evil and wanton injustice” and claims that Babalola does not simply have the effrontery to “join issues” with him in court. Perhaps this position has changed since Babalola filed a defamation suit against the author in a court in Ekiti.

While this article does not question the “truths” surrounding the Gbadamosi Eletu vs Ojomu case as presented in the text nor exonerate any side of the argument, it recognises the fact that the Nigerian judicial system cannot be condemned to be “criminal” in its totality. There are also ample cases of justice delivered, not only justice denied in the judiciary. Among the many cases in which the court has proven to be indeed the “last hope of the masses” in Nigeria include the Ogwuche vs Federal Republic of Nigeria in which the court ruled in favour of the plaintiffs by ordering the government to stop further violations of the plantiffs’ human right; the Monica vs a Security Task Force case 2011 in which a Nigerian court ruled in favour of Monica and 15 women and in which Monica was awarded monetary compensation; the Union Bank of Nigeria Plc vs Awmar Properties Ltd Case 2019 in which the Nigerian court ruled that interest should be paid on a principal sum that was withheld and not paid as and when due; and many other cases of individuals as lecturers, students, etc. winning cases against powerful establishments as the recent case of the Nigerian lecturer, Inih Ebong that got justice for being unjustly sacked by University of Uyo after being victimized for 24 years, or the Nigerian student case of Adedotun Babalola vs Ekiti State University 2017 in which the plaintiff had his expulsion quashed and a compensation of N10 million; the case of Idowu Oluwadare against University of Ilorin in 2006 as delivered by the Supreme Court in favour of the student, etc.

While one cannot deny some executive or powerful individuals’ disobedience to some court orders in Nigeria, which is mainly the problem of the judiciary’s lack of autonomy, one cannot also totally disparage instances in which justice has been served to the extent of labelling the entire system as “criminal”. The Nigerian judiciary, like other arms of governance, is a work in progress, and no one should de-market a system they have tremendously benefited from as citizens, even while trying to correct maladies in the system.

Taken together, the book is worthwhile as a ‘polemoir’ that seeks to open up the never-ending space in the classification of modern literary works. While the book specifically depicts the rots surrounding the Lagos judiciary in the case of Gbadamosi Eletu vs Ojomu, this article opines the case is not enough to criminalize the entire judicial system in Nigeria. One would expect the presentation of more cases and facts that are not circumscribed to Eletu’s case or Lagos judiciary if the actual title of the book is to be taken seriously.

To close with the rhetorical question used in the preface that opens the book, “After all, of what use is a lawyer without his facts?” Farotimi’s ‘Nigeria and Its Criminal Justice System’ indicts itself as a personal narrative of a Nigerian lawyer.

Sunday Michael Oyeleke teaches English Language at Government Girls Senior Secondary School, Samaru, Zaria and serves as a part-time tutor of English and Communication Skills at the Institute of Development Research and Training, Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria.