prince Usani Odum is the 28th child of the Paramount Ruler of Biase Local Government Area of Cross River State, Onun (Apostle) Nicholas Odum. Just five years after his call to bar, the 2015 University of Calabar alumnus has worked with the African Court on Human and Peoples’ Rights in Tanzania, the African Union Commission and is now a transitional justice consultant for the Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation (CSVR) in Johannesburg, South Africa. Odum tells ROBERT EGBE how he overcame his challenges to become the first lawyer out of 35 siblings, the problems with the Nigerian legal system, why he petitioned the NBA against Kaduna State Governor Nasir el-Rufai, among others.
Please introduce yourself.
My name is Prince Usani Odum. I am from Agwagune in Biase Local Government Area of Cross River State.
My dad is HM, Onun (Apostle) Nicholas Odum, the Onun of Biase, and Paramount Ruler of Biase Local Government Area. I have 35 siblings, and I think I am 28 or so. Growing up was fun. When I see women cooking in large pots during ceremonies, it reminds me of growing up. That was how dinner was prepared at home. My father has two wives – my stepmom and mom, both of whom raised all of us.
My mom had four of us – three girls, and myself as the last. But this distinction is not really relevant to us at home, because we are all united and peaceful family. In fact, because stepmom had 10 biological children, it was usually difficult for her relatives to say which amongst us is not their sister’s biological child. My dad has children from many women too.
Before my dad ascended to the throne as a monarch, he was a very successful businessman. Both of our moms were full-time housewives. Raising us was a full-time job, and it was such a big sacrifice on their part.
What was primary and secondary schools like? Any memorable experiences?
I attended the Saint Mary’s Primary School in Ugep. There was nothing memorable or special about my primary education, apart from one funny experience I had then. I took on the wrong kid, who gave me a thorough beating. Saint Mary’s Primary School is still a public school, for poor people, and we easily blended into the crowds like other kids.
For secondary school, I attended the Brotherhood Model College in Calabar but later completed my studies at the Presbyterian Seminary School in Yakurr. The latter was a boarding school, and I was traumatised watching senior students beat up juniors with machetes as corporal punishment for minor things like disobedience, fighting, etc. Although I was never a direct victim, I have never recovered from the trauma.
Tell us about your time at the Faculty of Law, University of Calabar and the Law School.
I attended the University of Calabar for my first degree and graduated in 2015 with a Second Class (upper division). I attended Law School in Kano State and graduated in 2016 with a Second Class (upper division) as well. I was called to the Nigerian Bar in 2016.
Studying Law was, of course, demanding. Although I came to the university fairly comfortable with a brand new car and good accommodation, these things nearly became a distraction and I had to work hard to stay up. Part of my challenge was how to cope on my own. Like most young people, I had to take responsibility. My best memories as an undergraduate were ‘night class’. I and some of my friends thought reading overnight on campus was the thing. But you know, most times, we used the time to do a lot of things our parents wouldn’t be so proud of.
For my Masters’ studies, I was privileged in 2018 to be selected from Nigeria to do the European Union-funded LL.M in Human Rights and Democratisation in Africa (HRDA), after a failed attempt in 2017. The HRDA programme is the most prestigious LLM on the continent and admits between 25 and 30 exceptional students each year. Successful candidates are selected from each African country, which implies that most times, some countries don’t even get a representation.
Are your parents or any member of your family lawyers? If yes, did you accompany them to court when you were younger?
I am the first lawyer in my entire family. Although my dad was obsessed with the late Chief Gani Fawehinmi (SAN), he nonetheless wanted me to take over from him in his own company. He was initially disappointed that I wasn’t impressed by the prospects in the business.
Luckily for all of us, one of my older siblings later took over the management upon my dad’s ascension to the throne and has since expanded its interests into oil and gas too, and my dad is fulfilled.
What inspired your choice of Law? What would you have studied instead?
I thought I had the best communication skills around. I am also very sensitive about the rights of the oppressed, so I felt I could use the platform of Law to advocate for them. I am happy I’m doing so already, maybe not on the scale I wished to, but I am satisfied anyway.
If I didn’t study law, I would still have studied law. Growing up, I was so empty-headed that all I had in my head was to become a lawyer.
Was Law School more or less difficult than you imagined? What was your formula for success?
First, I had issues with my posting to Kano, due to the security situation in the region. My parents also had this funny ability to sit back in Calabar and hear the sound of bombs going off in Kano, even before those of us in Kano. It added to the stress because he was always on the phone.
Otherwise, Law School was stressful on its own. I thought the classes were just too much and too invasive. Lecturers came upon us like a pack of wolves, and although we were nearly a thousand in the class, they could easily corner you with the microphone and put you on the spot. God bless you if you couldn’t answer their questions.
But I found a way around my personal studies. I made sure I read daily and kept to that routine religiously. I also made copious notes. In fact, by the time we came back from internship, I left all my textbooks at home, and during bar finals, I discovered I may have been overly prepared. I never made a First Class though.
How did your family or friends celebrate your Call to Bar? Did you have a party, etc.?
First of all, my dad was unavoidably absent, but my siblings attended. Expectedly, we celebrated at home, and slaughtered two goats or so. We also printed calendars and writing pads for our guests.
Very funny, I later discovered that my dad was more interested in having me around the house and accompanying him to all the local events in the area. I left home for Abuja.
Did you win any awards at the university or Law School
Yes. The Students Representative Council in Kano awarded me the Most Outspoken Student in the class. But upon graduation in South Africa, I won the Dean’s First Prize for the best essay in my class, and got both financial reward and an automatic opportunity at the African Court on Human and Peoples’ Rights, in Arusha, Tanzania.
Your first solo appearance in court, do you remember what that was like?
It was at the Court of Appeal in Abuja, and I had barely resumed in that law firm when my superior asked me to go to court. At the court, I erroneously wrote my name on only one of the counsel lists, and the court sat and rose without calling my matter. Obviously, the list I had my name on wasn’t the judges’ copy. When the court prepared to rise, I sprang to my feet to announce my appearance, but the presiding judge said the court could not see me. It was funny.
Have you had any embarrassing experiences in court, especially with a judge or a member of the opposite sex? How did you cope?
Yes. My most embarrassing day as a lawyer was at the Supreme Court. We had worked so late the night before at the office, with our senior partner Chief Anthony Idigbe (SAN), who gave me a handwritten document to type. I was a youth corps member, dripping wet behind the ears. I quickly gave the document to my immediate senior who was better at typing. When he printed it out, I took it carefully to Chief Idigbe, who flared up and got really mad. The fact is, when he wrote like that, he left out sections of the law he referred to, and it was the duty of counsel to decipher what law he meant and cite the sections in the spaces he left in the paper. I never knew this, because I was meeting him for the first time that day.
Embarrassed and scared, I came back to the general office, and we all put our heads together to do the needful. A very smart fellow corps member lawyer like myself quickly identified the section offhand, and without confirmation, we typed and returned it to Chief.
The following morning at the Supreme Court, Chief was making his submissions with all the grandeur most SANs are known for until the court stopped him and reprimanded him for deliberately misleading the court with the wrong sections of the law. In fact, the court retired for recess on that basis.
You know, on the day a monkey is destined to die, all the trees in the forest become very slippery. When the court sat again some 20 minutes later, not only did they give judgment against us, they also awarded cost against us. I felt I was carrying the sins of the country on my shoulders, including of the party who did the offence for which we came to court. When we came out, Chief was so angry, he could have beaten me up if he were a violent person. But, the mistake was not entirely mine.
You petitioned the Nigerian Bar Association (NBA) to remove Kaduna State Governor Nasir el-Rufai’s name as a keynote speaker in last year’s NBA Annual General Conference (AGC). Why?
I thought it was an aberration to have the governor talk to the NBA on security and governance, due to the human right situation in Southern Kaduna under his watch. It was purely an ethical issue for me.
It was rather shocking to read the arguments of most people opposed to the petition, including from supposed lawyers. I later read that I was paid by the Peoples’ Democratic Party (PDP) to embarrass the governor. I don’t even live or work in Nigeria. I was happy the right thing was done by the NBA. The entire events taught me a lesson though, that Nigeria’s problems are grossly underestimated. People would go to war because we demand accountability from our leaders, but would look the other way when hundreds of people are slaughtered daily.
What are your thoughts on the wig and gown? Do you think it should be scrapped?
What are the contributions of the wig and gown to the determination of issues before the court? None. Isn’t it a slavish mentality that while the colonial systems from where we copied the tradition have since done away with it, we still cling helplessly to it? I say scrap it.
SAN, Professor or a Judge, which would you choose and why?
If I had my way, I would want to be a judge, and a professor like I see in South Africa. This is because I feel I have special writing and analytical skills which would be best utilised as a judge. Part of my duty at the African Court involved a lot of legal research and judgment writing behind the bench. I am working towards this dream.
You’ve been practising Law for a few years now. What are the things you don’t like about Law practice in Nigeria or the justice system, that need urgent reforms?
Everything. From the time it takes to determine cases, to the practice of coming to court to adopt what is already before the judge in black and white, etc. Sometimes, the whole thing looks like a joke. See how long it took to convict (House of Representatives member) Farouk Lawan? Abdulrasheed Maina is still playing hide and seek with the court, while the notorious Evans is still not convicted to date. How does it take a judge eight months to hear an application that is not challenged? This is unacceptable.
I also think it is time Nigeria allows live media coverage of proceedings in court. It is done in Kenya, South Africa, and other places. What are we hiding? Nigeria must demystify and simplify legal proceedings.
You worked at the African Court on Human and Peoples’ Rights, until recently. How did that come about? What was the experience like?
I worked at the African Court as a human rights expert. It was a great but demanding experience, which required dedication and precision, because every single task you handled has real-life implications to human beings and member states to the court’s protocol, including Nigeria. The ambience of the court is very subdued, and there was no time for the international travels and flamboyance we enjoyed in Ethiopia, where I previously worked at the African Union Commission.
I’m currently working as a transitional justice consultant for the Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation (CSVR), in Johannesburg, South Africa. I have expertise in transitional justice in the African context and have carried out research in Mauritius, Seychelles, Morocco, Liberia, Kenya, Sierra Leone, Mozambique, Maiduguri and Ogoni land in Nigeria.
Would you marry a lawyer? Why or why not?
My dad said whoever wants to marry a doctor, lawyer, engineer, is simply not yet ready to marry. I’d rather marry a wife. But I wish my wife is also a lawyer. I fancy it so much.
What are your hobbies? If you had a second chance, would you still choose law or a career that’s based on your hobby?
I love writing, and looking for trouble online. Recently, I had a party at my house and I enjoyed it. I think I’ve found a new hobby. If there’s an afterlife, I’d still want to be a lawyer.
Advice for young lawyers?
Young lawyers should find an area in law and specialise. It doesn’t take much. Specialisation does not also mean you can’t do general practice. A time is coming when lawyers without specialisation would become redundant.
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