~ Professor Yemi Osinbajo was then a Special Assistant to the Attorney General of the Federation.
That was the year Ọba Yésúfù Olóyedé Áṣàńkẹ́, Olúbàdàn of Ìbàdàn made history. Olúbàdàn installed Mọ̀ṣúdì Káṣìmawó Ọláwálé Abíọ́lá as the Baṣọ̀run of Ìbàdàn. It was a prestigious title befitting of a distinguished personality in the mould of MKO Abíọ́lá.
That was the title of the legendary Baṣọ̀run Olúyọ̀lé who was the paramount chief of Ìbàdàn in 1850. It was also the title of Bashorun Ogúnmọ́lá who reigned between 1865 and 1867. It was therefore historic that exactly 120 years after the death of Ògúnmọ́lá, MKO Abíọ́lá became the fourth person to be conferred with the prestigious title.
It was indeed a befitting honour for someone who had amassed chieftaincy titles from almost every town in Nigeria. As of the time of his installation in 1987, MKO Abiola was reputed to have over 150 chieftaincy titles. He was the B'ọ́bajírò of Odè-Rẹ́mọ. He was the Badà Mùsùlùmí of Gbágurá Ẹ̀gbá.
As he drove out of the palace of Ọba Áṣàńkẹ́ that fateful day with his son by his side, MKO must have thought that he had reached the peak of traditional chieftaincy in Nigeria.
He was just settling down in his Ikeja home when he was informed that he had a call. Who was on the line? He asked before collecting the phone. It was the Aláàfin of Ọ̀yọ́, Ọba Làmídì Ọláyíwọlá Adéyemí III.
MKO snatched the phone. “Ikú Bàbá Yèyé, Igbá-kejì Òrìṣà! Kábíèsí!” The newly installed Baṣọ̀run paid his homage to the foremost traditional ruler. Aláàfin must be calling to congratulate me, MKO thought. Kábíèsí was however not calling to congratulate the business magnate.
“We have decided that you are to be conferred with the title of Ààrẹ Ọ̀nà Kakaǹfò!” Kábíèsí informed him.
The phone nearly dropped from the hand of Baṣọ̀run. Ààrẹ Ọ̀nà Kakaǹfò! The Generalissimo of Yoruba race! The Field Marshall for all descendants of Odùduwà! The portfolio held by Àfọ̀njá, the founder of Ilorin! The title of Ààrẹ Ọbadọ̀kè Látóòṣà of Ìbàdàn – the scourge of Ẹfúnṣetán Aníwúrà! The position held by the last premier of Western Region, Ládòkè Akíntólá of Ògbómọ̀ṣọ́!
For a single person to be Baṣọ̀run and Ààrẹ was unheard of. It was the ultimate! Traditionally, Baṣọ̀run is the Prime Minister. Ààrẹ is the Field Marshall. When Baṣọ̀run Gáà moved against Aláàfin Abíọ́dún around 1770, it was Oyálabí from Àjàṣẹ́ (now Republic of Benin), the Ààrẹ Ọ̀nà Kakaǹfò that came to the powerful monarch’s rescue. Now, Abíọ́lá was going to be both the Prime Minister and the Field Marshall!
Aláàfin had spoken. MKO Abíọ́lá had no choice. The news spread like wildfire. Congratulatory messages poured in from all over the globe. Ààrẹ Ọ̀nà Kakaǹfò was not just another title. It was the Title. It was the father of all traditional titles. Father ke? No, it was the Grandfather of All Titles. If it were to be a national honour, it would be the equivalent of the Grand Commander of the Federal Republic!
Everybody in and outside Yorùbáland was ecstatic at the choice of Abíọ́lá as the 14th Ààrẹ Ọ̀nà Kakaǹfò. Well, almost everybody.
It happened that the Aṣípa of Ọ̀yọ́, Chief Ámúdà Ọlọ́runòṣẹbi was not pleased with the choice of Baṣọ̀run MKO Abíọ́lá as the Ààrẹ. Aṣípa was one of the prominent chiefs of Aláàfin. He objected to the choice of the flamboyant publisher, an Ẹ̀gbá man, as Ààrẹ Ọ̀nà Kakaǹfò. He went to Kábíèsí to protest. Ikú Bàbá Yèyé was adamant that MKO was eminently qualified to be the Ààrẹ Ọ̀nà Kakaǹfò.
The Aṣípa went back to his quarters at Ìsàlẹ̀ Ọ̀yọ́. As MKO Abíọ́lá and the Aláàfin were preparing for the installation of Baṣọ̀run, Chief Ámúdà was consulting with his lawyers. This was however unknown to the Aláàfin. It was assumed that the Aṣípa had been convinced to support Abíọ́lá’s candidacy.
Abíọ́lá was no ordinary person by any standard. He was larger than life. He was flamboyance personified. He was determined to make the chieftaincy installation as grand as possible. He invited all his contacts from all over the world. All the military governors were invited. A special invitation was delivered to the President, Ibrahim Babangida, who was a close friend of the Bashorun. African Heads of States cleared their schedules in order to honour MKO. Nigerian Embassies were issuing visas on daily basis. It was going to be a grand occasion.
Then the unthinkable happened! It started as a rumour. It was days to the installation.
‘Etí Ọba nílé, etí Ọba l’óko, ènìyàn ló ń jẹ́ bẹ́ẹ̀.’ - The ear of a king is everywhere. Ikú Bàbá Yèyé was in his palace when he heard from the grapevine that a case had been filed to stop the occasion! “Èwọ̀! Ṣàngó ò ní jẹ́! Abíọ́dún ò ní jẹ́! Aólẹ̀ ò ní jẹ́!” Kábíèsí went on to invoke the names of his predecessors on the royal throne of Aláàfin!
It was around noon when the phone rang in Ìbàdàn. It was from the Palace, Ọ̀yọ́ Aláàfin. Chief Afẹ́ Babalọlá, the famous legal practitioner, picked the phone. After exchange of homage and royal blessings, Aláàfin informed Afìwàjoyè of Adó Èkìtì that Aṣípa had filed a suit against the installation of MKO Abíọ́lá. Not only that, a motion ex parte for interim injunction had also been filed. It was apparent that Aṣípa was not ready to gamble with his chance.
Though Kábíèsí did not say it, Chief Afẹ́ knew the urgency involved. Installation was on Saturday. The call came in on Tuesday.
Less than thirty minutes after the call, Chief Afẹ́ was almost at Ọ̀yọ́. The legendary lawyer covered the 57 kilometres between Ọ̀yọ́ and Ìbàdàn as if he was on a chariot. He proceeded to court where he met the court registrar. Of course, the registrar knew Chief Babalọlá. It is doubtful if there is anyone in the Judiciary who does not know the Máyégún of Modákẹ́kẹ́. Máyégún paid the requisite fees and conducted a search of the court’s file. It was there! Aláàfin’s information was correct!
Ìdúró kò sí, ìbẹ̀rẹ̀ kò sí fún ẹni tí ó gbé odó mì - A person who swallows a pestle can neither stand nor sit comfortably. Installation was on Saturday. The search was conducted on Tuesday! The motion ex parte was to be heard the following day, Wednesday.
Time was of the essence! Chief Afe turned his car around, off to Emmanuel Chambers, Ìbàdàn. Before the car reached Fìdítì, he had mentally finished composing the processes. He was nodding as the cases and other relevant authorities began to surface in his mind.
By the time he reached his office, the mental process was complete. In a minute the Counter-Affidavit was ready. There was no need for a Written Address. Professor Yemi Osinbajo was then a Special Assistant to the Attorney General of the Federation. It would be years later before he would introduce Written Address as the Lagos State Attorney General. The counter-affidavit was filed and served on counsel to the Aṣípa.
On Wednesday, the court was full. Chief M. L. Lágúnjú, Aṣípa’s counsel was in court. He adjusted his wig and checked his books. He smiled. It was a Motion Exparte. It won’t be contested. He checked his time. Then there was some commotion at the entrance of the court.
Chief Lágúnjú blinked! He blinked again! Walking in majestically was the Afìwàjoyè of Adó-Èkìtì, the Balógun of Mọ̀bàland, the Máyégún of Modákẹ́kẹ́, Chief Afẹ́ Babalọlá in flesh! He was followed by a host of other lawyers, each armed with bags of legal authorities enough to open a law library. Chief Lágúnjú didn’t know when he said: “The game is up!”
On the dot of 9 O’clock, the Court began sitting. The trial judge was a royalty himself. Justice Adérẹ̀mí’s father was the late Ọ̀ọ̀ni of Ifẹ̀, Oba Sir Tadénikáwò Adésọjí Adérẹ̀mí, the first Governor of Western Region. The case was called.
The plaintiff’s counsel sought to move his application. The learned counsel informed the court that it was an ex parte application and therefore the other party had no right of audience.
His Lordship turned to Chief Afẹ́ Babalọlá. The court was as silent as a ghost town. Young lawyers craned their necks to hear what the Legend was going to say. They have been taught in law school that Ex Parte Motion was for only one party. Some of them must have been wondering what magic the Máyégún of Modáẹ́kẹ́ was going to perform.
Chief Afẹ́ Babalọlá brought out the White Book. Oh! Sorry, you don’t know the White Book? The White Book is an important book for lawyers. It contains the sources of law relating to the practice and procedures of the High Court. Ask your lawyer friend to show you a copy. He won’t charge you, unless you open it.
The Legal Colossus was on his feet. He was vibrating like a trumpet, but his voice was as soft as velvet. He began to reel out authorities after authorities to the effect that a defendant who became aware, anyhow, that a party had gone to court and was about to obtain an order ex-parte that would affect him, had a right to appear in court and to insist on being heard.
His Lordship – a brilliant Judge from the Source of Yorùbá Race – was nodding as he scribbled down the authorities being cited by the Legendary Advocate. His Lordship was not the only one writing. Most lawyers in court were writing furiously. One old man turned to his friend and whispered: “I don’t mind selling my house, Mùfù, my son must become a lawyer like this man. Look at the way he is speaking English as if he is chanting oríkì Ṣàngó!”
“There is merit in the case of the Defendants. I agree with Chief Afẹ́ Babalọlá, the Defendants deserve to be given the right to be heard. Case is hereby adjourned to tomorrow for arguments on the Motion on Notice.” His Lordship rose.
It is doubtful if the parties involved in the case slept that night. Whilst the lawyers checked and re-checked the authorities, the litigants were in anxiety mode. Chief MKO Abíọ́lá’s invited guests had started arriving from their various bases. Musicians engaged for entertainment had begun to set up their instruments in Ọ̀yọ́ and Ìkẹjà. Caterers had booked all the cows in Ìlọrin, Ọ̀yọ́ and Ìbàdàn. Local drummers had cancelled all engagements. The royal poet, Ọláńrewájú Adépọ̀jù had finished composing his masterpiece. All roads led to Ọ̀yọ́ Aláàfin.
If the court was filled to the brim on Wednesday, it was spilling over on Thursday. Litigants, journalists, lawyers, in fact everybody was in court that day. Chief Lágúnjú stood up. The learned counsel knew what was at stake. He argued his application expertly. He guessed the likely issues that Chief Afẹ́ would raise. He addressed each comprehensively. It was advocacy at its best.
Then the Balógun of Mọ̀bàland stood up. Like a surgeon, Chief Afẹ́ surgically cut through the issues deftly. He was not going to take any prisoner. After cutting through the issues, the authorities followed. From Halsbury’s Law of England to Commonwealth Law Reports, from decisions of House of Lords to decisions of Court of Appeal, from WACA to White Book, and then finally to the Supreme Court. The authorities were flowing like water from Aṣèjìrẹ́ Dam. There was no stopping the deluge.
“In the light of the copious authorities cited by the learned counsel for the plaintiff and the defendants, the Court will be adjourning to…” There was pin-drop silence in Court. The installation was only two days away. “... Friday” Ha! Palpable relief went through the court.
On Friday, Chief Afẹ́ Babalọlá’s phone began to Ọ̀yọ́ from dawn. “Chief, Ẹ má lọ gba ruling yín l’Ọ̀yọ́ lónìí o. Please send your junior o.” Clients, friends and well wishers who witnessed or heard of the tension soaked session in court on Thursday were justifiably apprehensive. But Chief Afẹ́ was not the Balógun of Mọ̀bàland for nothing. A General must not be afraid of the warfront. Off to Ọ̀yọ́.
Chief Afẹ́ had hardly left Ìbàdàn when he started seeing policemen at strategic junctions on the road to Ọ̀yọ́. As they approached Fìdítì, the number of policemen increased. By the time they got to Jóbèlè, it was as if the Police College had moved its campus there. In the forest, on top of trees, in the bushes, and on top of buildings, the police were everywhere.
The Courtroom itself was no exception. More than fifty police officers joined lawyers and litigants in the courtroom. If you were not wearing a wig and you were not a party to the case, you would have to stay outside.
Court!
Justice Adérẹ̀mí went straight to the business of the day. “RULING” His Lordship began. Time stood still as His Lordship went on to review the facts of the application and the authorities cited by the counsel for the parties. “In the final analysis…” Counsel and cops in the court became tense.
“This application fails and is hereby dismissed.”
As if by telepathy, the crowd outside heard the ruling immediately! Shouts of joy erupted. Drummers who must have been hiding their gángan drums under their agbádá sprang out. Ṣẹ̀kẹ̀rẹ̀ came out. Agogo was not to be left behind. Chief Afẹ́ Babalọlá was pulled out of his car, The Balógun was placed squarely on the roof of the car. Women danced, men jumped. I’m not sure but one of the songs on that day must have been “Ajẹkún ìyà ni ó jẹ”. I have to confirm this from Chief. May God preserve his life.
Aláàfin was waiting in the Palace with his Council Members. For a moment, the Ṣàngó of our time, Ikú Bàbá Yèyé was close to tears. It was an emotional moment. MKO Abíọ́lá was called. The Baṣọ̀rún shouted: “Allahu Akbar! Alhamdulillah.”
On Saturday, January 14, 1988, Oba Lamidi Olayiwola Adeyemi III installed Bashorun Moshood Kashimawo Abiola as the 14th Aare Ona Kakanfo. The famous Yoruba Poet, Lanrewaju Moshood Adepoju was then called to the podium. In his deep and flawless Yoruba, Adepoju movingly rendered traditional poetry tracing the history of the title and the qualities of the new Aare Ona Kakanfo.
Abiola smiled.
It was indeed a glorious day for the husband of Simbiat Atinuke.
In recognition of his service to the Crown and the Law, Alaafin later conferred Chief Afe Babalola with the prestigious title of Aare Bamofin of Oyo Empire.
Source : Onigegewura
