The late musical philosopher, Dr. Orlando Owoh, once delivered a line in one of his evergreen songs that has refused to leave my mind: āį»Ģpį»Ģlį»pį»Ģ lĆ³ į¹£e big man lāĆ³de, Ƭį¹£įŗ¹Ģ į»wį»Ģ wį»n kĆ² į¹£e rĆ.ā Roughly interpreted, it means that many people parade themselves in public as great and noble men, yet in private they are worse than the devil.
Orlando Owoh must have had people like Kayode Ajulo in mind when he sang that line. Yes, the same Kayode Ajulo, SAN, the Attorney-General and Commissioner for Justice of Ondo State.
Because the truth must be told: I am taking him to court.
Yes. This is not a rumor. This is not gossip. This is litigation.
Let nobody attempt to beg me. Let nobody dispatch elders to mediate. Let nobody whisper the familiar Nigerian formula of settlement: āBarrister, e jį»Ģį»Ģ, let us resolve this quietly.ā
No. There will be no ADR in this matter. This case deserves the full glare of the courtroom.
Before anyone accuses me of ignorance, let me place certain facts clearly on record. I know that Kayode Ajulo is a lawyer and not just any lawyer. He is a Senior Advocate of Nigeria, the highest professional distinction at the Nigerian Bar. I know he holds a PhD in Law. I also know that he is a recipient of the national honour of Commander of the Order of the Niger (CON).
Decorated man. Distinguished man. Celebrated legal mind.
But before the temple of justice, all those titles are merely ornaments. They do not elevate anyone above the law. Even the Attorney-General of the Federation can be sued.
So why should the Attorney-General of Ondo State enjoy immunity?
Nobody on earth can persuade me not to go to court.
Because the offence this young man has been committing is serious, very serious. It cannot be glossed over or swept under the carpet.
If it is not checked quickly, it may unleash something dangerously revolutionary within the Nigerian legal profession, a quiet rebellion.
A rebellion of mentorship. Yes. That is the crime.
Kayode Ajulo has been mentoring people recklessly.
And that brings me to the central charge in my proposed lawsuit: Is Kayode Ajulo, SAN, faking mentorship?
The question may sound mischievous ā perhaps even provocative ā but please do not crucify me for asking it.
In todayās Nigeria, mentorship has become one of the most fashionable words in professional discourse. Everybody talks about mentorship. Committees are formed in its name. Conferences are organised around it. Speeches are delivered celebrating their virtues.
Yet genuine mentorship ā the deliberate investment of time, wisdom and patience in younger professionals ā remains painfully scarce.
Many preach mentorship. Very few practise it. So I became suspicious.
Is Kayode Ajulo merely projecting the image of mentorship, or is he actually living it?
Unfortunately for my lawsuit, the facts are beginning to sabotage my case.
Long before his appointment as Chairman of the Nigerian Bar Association Mentorship Committee, Ajulo had already been living the philosophy he now promotes. His understanding of the legal profession rests on a powerful distinction ā the difference between erudition and wisdom.
Erudition may produce brilliant graduates, but wisdom produces complete lawyers.
The courtroom is not merely a warehouse of statutes. It is a battlefield of personalities ā judges, clients, strategy, ethics and persuasion.
Ajulo describes the danger many brilliant graduates face as āThe First-Class Trap.ā
Academic brilliance alone does not produce a successful lawyer. What bridges the dangerous gap between knowledge and professional excellence is mentorship ā the deliberate transmission of experiential wisdom from one generation of lawyers to another.
For him, mentorship is not theory. It is a biography.
As a young law student at the University of Jos, he practised what he calls shadow mentorship, carefully observing the giants of the Nigerian Bar: Chief F.R.A. Williams, SAN; Chief Gani Fawehinmi, SAN; Chief G.O.K. Ajayi, SAN; Chief Afe Babalola, SAN; Olisa Agbakoba, SAN; and Chief Wole Olanipekun, SAN.
From these titans, he absorbed the ethos of courage, advocacy and professional dignity.
But philosophy alone does not prove mentorship. Impact does. And this is where my lawsuit begins to collapse dramatically ā because I speak as one of his victims.
Yes ā victims.
Victims of Kayode Ajuloās dangerous mentorship culture.
His sermons on mentorship rekindled and ignited the legal embers within me, embers that eventually compelled me to begin studying law at the unusual age of 48.
Many people would have laughed at such ambition. Ajulo did not.
Instead, he monitored my journey from the university to the Nigerian Law School. Even when I encountered a setback and had to repeat civil law, he refused to allow discouragement to defeat me. He insisted that I return. I did. I confronted the obstacle. I passed.
Beyond encouragement, he equipped me mentally for the realities of legal practice.
And my story is only one among many.
Across Nigeriaās legal landscape, several young lawyers have flourished within mentorship ecosystems connected to him. Pelumi Olajengbesi and Stanley Anieke, for instance, now command formidable law firms employing no fewer than twenty-five lawyers each.
Then there is the remarkable institution known as The Castle of Law, a legal fortress that today boasts three Senior Advocates of Nigeria from its stable, alongside several accomplished lawyers who have since been elevated to the bench.
Within that ecosystem he carries a curious title ā The Grandmaster.
Not because he is necessarily the wisest, but because mentorship must reproduce mentors.
That is the deeper philosophy behind Ajuloās mentorship doctrine. Mentorship is not about speeches. It is about multiplication. Which means the real offence of Kayode Ajulo may simply be this: He keeps manufacturing lawyers. And this offence must be checked immediately.
Society cannot continue to tolerate a situation where this man keeps mentoring brilliant minds who may eventually become useful to the nation.
We cannot allow him to continue erecting ladders of success for young wigs who should ordinarily spend years groping painfully through the dark corridors of legal procedure and jurisprudence before seeing the light of professional accomplishment.
No.
That would be unfair to the traditional suffering that young lawyers are expected to endure.
We must stop him from drugging young lawyers with the dangerous nuggets of diligence, discipline and professional wisdom, enabling them to accomplish in a few years what ordinarily should take decades.
This dangerous mentoring habit must stop. That is precisely why I am going to court. Because imagine someone like me, who by natural professional tradition should still be fumbling in the dimly lit rooms of jurisprudence, suddenly finding himself confidently appearing in courts of competent jurisdiction, rubbing shoulders with sound practitioners such as Barrister Sun Natha-Alade and other respected members of the Bar.
How did such a miracle happen? The answer is simple: the malady of mentorship. The dangerous influence of Dr. Kayode Ajulo, SAN, CON.
The court must intervene.
The law must act. Because if Kayode Ajulo is not restrained quickly, the Nigerian Bar may soon suffer an uncontrollable outbreak of competent lawyers. And that, surely, would be a very dangerous development indeed. Therefore, we must rise quickly and encumber this dangerous precedent with a pronouncement from a court of competent jurisdiction.
