Let’s Kill the Internet

The legal profession is in peril – again. This time, it is the internet’s fault. Those glorious days of old when clients were satisfied with conceited mumblings of incoherent Latin phrases are slipping away. Lawyers no longer enjoy the thrill of being paid for thumbing through impressive heavy leather bound volumes while their clients nervously wait. Clients are getting to know too much than it is healthy of our noble profession.

We must never forget that law practice is sacred. While not yet proven, my research leans towards evidence that God may have created lawyers as the special specie destined to get paid for helping people and saving lives. Clearly, this position is not for everyone. Having realised the concept of free will and the tendency of humans to long for loftier callings (far above their status), the Nigerian Law School was established to help the creator keep the bloodline pure. Only those divinely called can withstand the annoyance of wearing uniforms for an extra year in order to build a career to wear more uniforms. This acts as a buffer between us and the rest of humanity.

Unfortunately, as the Original Sin, humanity seems poised to destroy this perfect plan this through the internet. People are increasingly becoming aware of the power of Google and the ridiculousness of paying someone else for a legal opinion that any six year old can prepare from an online search. Even worse, everything from court judgments to legal dictionaries has become easily accessible. This has allowed some unscrupulous ‘elements’ to put up templates of agreements online so that mere mortals can almost prepare a rough draft of legal documents. Horror of horrors: a few weeks ago, some misguided enterprising Nigerian, Zubair Abubakar, launched a free Blackberry application for the Nigerian Constitution. Apparently, everyone can get access to the Constitution and even know their rights without having to speak to the divinely ordained sect. Soon, someone might get it into their heads to create another application for the Electoral Act. It is shameful.

The world is forgetting the loveable, helpful otherwise indispensable lawyer. Our egos are being ignored rather than massaged. People are starting to question our rights to charge for what can be found on Wikipedia. Some are even becoming aware of their vocal chords and resisting our entitlement to speak on their behalf to a judge. This is getting really scary.

Things are getting out of control. Some lawyers, who I think may have sold their souls, are even aiding the process that makes the noble path plebeian. The profession as a body must stand against this. We should no longer lose the regal rigour that comes from spending hours looking up court judgments and precedents to Ctrl + F.

Lawyers must henceforth spurn the internet or anything connected to it. All true members of the legal elite must begin by rejecting search engines for research. We must remember - Google is for commoners! We must refuse further attempts to digitalise the letter of the law or court judgments. We must go back to the days when incoherent Latin was lawyer-speak and agreements could not be read without the aid of a (paper) Latin-English dictionary. The only concessions we can make with the internet is Facebook – which can be a useful tool for boring meetings.

We hope that someday we will stop this trend. We will regain our pride and go back to the time when people marvelled at the privilege of being around black robes and were content to touch our uniforms. This is a call to arms. Remember, the more confused and ignorant the clients are the more money we make – which of course, is the original plan.

Fair Elections Are Bad for Business*

I like the Jewish traditional year of jubilee. My Aluta continua and Awoist-socialist leanings like the idea of freed slaves and forgiven debts at the end of seven cycles of Sabbatical years. It is a celebratory year of wealth and prosperity. For the Nigerian Bar, our celebration comes in four year cycles during the elections. During these periods, lawyers finally get a chance at helpings of the national cake through politicians who consider ‘graceful defeat’ an oxymoron. Since 1999, the legal community has provided this social service to ensure that funds circulate in the economy. We also keep thieving politicians alive since it provides an opportunity to share what they could choke on while trying to ‘swallow it alone’.

It has worked well. Nigerians have come to accept rigged elections without breaking into a sweat. We proudly tell of our rich history of voters’ apathy and refer to years of electoral malpractices as evidence of the resilient Naija spirit.

From what I see, Professor Attahiru Jega and his barely bearable INEC registration videos want to upturn precedent. The distinguished professor seems intent on wiping away our history, which from my paranoid lawyer lens, would also irreparably harm the world’s noblest profession.

Any true wig knows that the beauty of advocacy (synonym for ‘lawyer’s prattle’) lies in long drawn irrelevant disputes. Fair elections could reduce electoral petitions and therefore ruin the opportunities to grow oratory prowess. Even electoral tribunals serve their purpose – hardened insomniacs have found relief during these sessions.

Chaotic elections keep lawyers relevant. Keeping with the presumption of innocence, lawyers play knights in black robe to ensure peace and security in the middle of snatched ballot boxes and party chieftains with stolen votes under their agbadas. We like rigged elections and unscrupulous electoral processes. These justify overpriced legal fees. We like it.

Fair elections are not newsworthy. INEC must be a little oblivious or selfish as its aims would destroy the newspaper industry and lead to the loss of jobs. Worse, if Nigeria begins the fifth republic with well-intentioned leaders, newspapers would lose additional income. Editorial pages are unskilled in recognising leaders who actually did their jobs. Papers won’t be able to complain against injustice or corruption or whatever bad news fills the front pages these days. Few people would buy papers that fail to provide self-validation from feeding off the misery of others.

Another dangerous development is the potential for an ‘overzealous’ legislative arm. Fairly elected lawmakers could take their work too seriously and actually make laws that have nothing to do with budgets. Who knows – they may even stop throwing chairs! The Nigerian bar has thrived on the existence of laws made when Lord Lugard was thinking through a name for Nigeria. Law has stayed the same – and we like it that way. No tattered wig would want to now worry about having to keep up with the law. Consequently lawyers must come together to fight against any semblance of sanity.

This business about fair elections was not reasoned through. We must yet realise that it is unfair to hold the distinguished professor to our noble standards - how much can a mere mortal understand? The most appropriate prayer for Professor Attahiru Jega may be that of another Jew – ‘MiLords, forgive him for he knows not what he does’.

Voters’ registration runs between 15^th and 29^th January 2011. Please register in order to vote in May. We must protect our right to choose.

R is for Register #RSVP

*Rookie lawyer offers fictitious mindless and indulgent rants about the legal profession. She does not reflect the true position of law practice.

Just in case you come here between 15th and 29th January

... and are Nigerian or know Nigerians in Nigeria

Registration for the 2011 elections are probably going to be tough, annoying and often inefficient.

But we must register to vote any ways - not because we want to 'help' Nigeria or pay some altruistic goody two shoes bills. We must register because we need leader who know that we voted them in. We need a Sword of Damocles hanging over their heads (our votes) threatening them to do right OR ELSE we'll de-elect them in 2015.

Your vote is insurance. It is power to determine whether we will get electricity, water, good roads - basic stuff that even Ghana enjoys.

Please, register to vote. Tell others too.

The R in RSVP.

Post law school.

“Why did you study law?”

It was the archetypal conversation-opener, shamelessly overused and only secondary to “I know another lawyer” in Naija’s legal themed ‘do you know who I am?” conversations.

It was a little different this time - I was the one trying to prove to them that I had something worth conversing with in the grey matter under my refined-rubber weaves. ‘Them’ was an almost-cordial panel- five of the Firm’s eight partners- and the question was lipped by a bespectacled forty-something-ish older –RMD look alike. He was wearing a charcoal grey-stripped suit and looked the part of the smooth, suave Grisham-protagonist.

After two gruelling tests that made me grateful that I did more than sleep in company law classes, the interview had been more of a laid-back chat. I was not complaining- Lagbaja, Tamedun & Co. was one of Nigeria’s most successful legal firms with a multidisciplinary approach to the practise of law- taxation, intellectual property, oil, maritime. All my classmates wanted in and I was lucky to have scaled through the whole process.

It didn’t hurt that L.T. & Co. was not inclined to law as some rambling noble old ruin and was also one of the top paying law offices too. Basically, this was a pre-Harvard step that aligned with my best-laid plans- duplex at Lekki with short holidaying on my private island, hanging out with the Dangotes and my other fine neighbours.

By some un-karmic indulgence, I had passed law school and earned the right to sweat under a horribly huge and ugly black gown, and a wig that could have paid someone else through law school. Patriotic or not, I had also done ‘time’- my Federal-government sponsored holiday at a Local Government secretariat in Jigawa. I was running late in my dream to be Secretary-General of the UN.

- And in real life; even UN-wannabes needed jobs at some time -

“Actually, I didn’t plan to. My dad simply filled my JAMB form and inserted ‘Law’ in the subject column emphasising that it was the only professional course my poor literature subjects could qualify for”.

Luckily my thoughts didn’t have speaker-mode and a few years of law had taught me when black and white required a bit of ‘greying’ so I dutifully replied-

“I have always been fascinated with the justice system and I looked for an opportunity to be part of that process”.

Grey-stripes smiled- I could detect a hint of condescension- he didn’t buy my Mother Theresa line, but he could do nothing about it.

“We’ll get in touch.”

Two days later, I listened with a mix of excitement (Here comes Rookie blazing the trail with unprecedented decisions and all the Ally McBeal stuff!) and nervousness (moot court becomes real- with real people and real issues at the mercy of a strike-bumped-education), as a British accented (with a little Lekki in it) female informed me that I had a job. I was to pick up my letter the following Monday and resume work immediately.