Breaking Wike’s Silent Grip on Our Judiciary

In "Wiked Judges and Nyesomized Courts," published by Sahara Reporters on October 27, 2024, Chidi Anselm Odinkalu unveils a disturbing pattern of entrapment within Nigeria’s judiciary, orchestrated by political figures like Nyesom Wike. Odinkalu exposes how Wike’s carefully constructed system of influence and “generosity” has transformed material gifts into subtle bonds, slowly chaining judges to his agenda. What might appear as mere gestures of goodwill—a car here, a property there—morphs into a sophisticated form of dependency. This entanglement, Odinkalu warns, is not merely financial but profoundly psychological, leading judges to relinquish their autonomy and become quiet enforcers of political interests. At the core of Odinkalu’s critique is Rule 2.8 of Nigeria’s Revised Code of Conduct for Judicial Officers (2016), a mandate meant to protect judicial impartiality yet rendered increasingly ineffective as judges find themselves bound by debts, both moral and material, to powerful political patrons. These unspoken contracts with figures like Wike threaten to erode not only individual integrity but also the very foundation of Nigeria’s legal system.

Odinkalu meticulously traces Wike’s entrenchment in the judiciary from his early political days as Chairman of Obio/Akpor LGA to his current role as Minister of the Federal Capital Territory (FCT). With each step up in Wike’s career, a web of mutual benefit and tacit loyalty has deepened between him and members of the judiciary. Through his strategic acts of “benevolence,” Wike has shaped a culture of judicial loyalty that Odinkalu describes as “Nyesomized,” a term that encapsulates the pervasive impact of his influence. It is a relationship that extends beyond the transactional, becoming an insidious allegiance where judges feel bound to align their decisions with Wike’s interests. This silent allegiance, Odinkalu argues, erodes judicial independence, replacing it with a system of dependency where judges’ rulings are guided not by impartiality, but by an unspoken debt—a debt that transforms their judgments into symbols of quiet loyalty rather than objective legal decisions.

This relationship represents a systemic shift in Nigeria’s judiciary, one where dependency has become normalized and judicial bias, rather than an anomaly, is a pervasive threat. Through the examples of prominent figures within the judiciary, including Chief Justices who have publicly embraced Wike’s patronage, Odinkalu illustrates the grave consequences of this entrapment. The pattern of dependency is not merely an ethical concern; it signals a dangerous transformation, one that could reduce Nigeria’s judiciary to an instrument of political agendas rather than an independent institution upholding justice. Odinkalu’s critique serves as a dire warning: if this pattern of influence remains unchecked, Nigeria’s judiciary risks becoming little more than a mouthpiece for political power, stripped of its role as a defender of law and impartiality.

In light of Odinkalu’s insights, this psychologist outlines a path of "psychological liberation" for judges entangled in Wike’s web of influence. This process seeks not only to free these judges from the psychological grip of past compromises but also to empower them to reclaim their autonomy and restore integrity to Nigeria’s judiciary. Wike, while governor, had deceptively found ways to directly or indirectly compromise numerous judges, as Odinkalu reveals. Many of these judges, initially in lower courts, have now risen to federal high courts, appellate courts, and even the Supreme Court, yet remain constrained by past transactions. Through a series of gifts, financial support, and favors, Wike has strategically and psychologically bound these judges, creating an enduring loyalty that has eroded their impartiality.

To break free from this, the psychologist recommends a first step of confidential restitution, where judges could discreetly return the benefits, favors, and support they once accepted, severing both symbolic and practical ties to their compromises. This act of restitution—whether conducted privately or through judicial bodies—would enable judges to face the moral weight of their past decisions, freeing them from the burden of guilt that has clouded their impartiality. In reclaiming their autonomy through these acts, judges would finally remove the lingering influence of Wike’s "generosity" from their rulings, restoring their capacity to dispense justice impartially, without the shadow of political obligation.

In taking this painful yet necessary step toward liberation, judges can find strength and encouragement from Nigeria’s spiritual leaders—pastors, imams, and trusted mentors—who offer both moral support and accountability. These mentors would urge judges to take the courageous step of returning the money, properties, or other benefits they received—whether directly to Wike, anonymously to the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC), or through other discreet channels. This act of restitution would not be about exposing anyone or bringing others into trouble, but rather about their own peace of mind, freeing their conscience so they can finally serve with integrity in the courts.

By quietly returning what they received, judges can sever the hidden strings of obligation that have silently bound them. This journey isn’t about shame or public confession; it’s about reclaiming their autonomy to make fair, unbiased decisions without the weight of past compromises clouding their judgment. With spiritual mentors supporting their resolve, they can set a quiet but bold precedent, showing that integrity sometimes requires an anonymous act of courage. Freed from the moral weight of obligation, they would regain the ability to serve as true guardians of justice, equipped to resist further intimidation and political control, and empowered to finally perform their roles with the independence and clarity of mind that justice demands.

Odinkalu’s revelations inspire this psychologist to propose that individual restitution alone may not be sufficient to dismantle Wike’s pervasive influence. A collective response, spearheaded by the Nigerian Bar Association (NBA), could prove far more effective in restoring judicial independence. As one of Nigeria’s most respected legal institutions, the NBA could serve as a mediator and protector, offering a safe environment for judges committed to regaining their autonomy. Within this supportive framework, judges could unite to form a coalition, fostering a network that diminishes individual exposure to retaliation and bolsters collective resolve. Such a coalition would stand as a formidable barrier against future compromises, showcasing the judiciary’s renewed dedication to independence and ethical conduct. By presenting this united front, Nigeria’s judiciary could signal to the public a decisive shift away from political entanglement, reaffirming its core duty as an impartial defender of justice. This movement could set a lasting precedent, paving the way for a judiciary that upholds rigorous ethical standards and creating a legacy of accountability for future generations to build upon.

This path to liberation, however, is fraught with personal and professional risks. Judges who confront their past compromises face the potential loss of privileges, positions, and status, particularly in an environment where figures like Wike wield significant influence. Yet, by prioritizing their ethical integrity and peace of mind over the immediate securities these privileges offer, judges would gain a profound sense of freedom, realigning themselves with the principles of justice. This commitment to “freedom of conscience” is invaluable; it would release them from the moral weight of compromise, allowing them to stand independently as protectors of the law. By rejecting the silent contracts that bind them, they would reclaim their voices—not as quiet enforcers of political will but as advocates for impartiality and justice. Such acts of courage could inspire a broader movement within Nigeria’s judiciary, encouraging others to confront their own entrapments and sparking a wave of ethical renewal that counters the spread of corruption within Nigeria’s legal system.

The implications of this renewal would reach far beyond individual acts of restitution, transforming Nigeria’s judicial landscape and addressing the insidious practice of “judge shopping.” Wike’s influence has highlighted how compromised judges become targets for politically connected Senior Advocates of Nigeria (SANs), who exploit these entanglements for favorable rulings. A judiciary that has reclaimed its autonomy would send a powerful message to SANs and politicians alike: Nigeria’s courts are not for sale. This resurgence of integrity would not only restore public trust in the judiciary but also help reestablish it as an institution grounded in justice and accountability. Through courage, restitution, and an unwavering commitment to ethical standards, these judges would catalyze a transformative reform that could reshape Nigeria’s legal system. This transformation would mark a historic turning point, establishing a higher standard of judicial independence and instilling hope in a legal system dedicated to impartiality.

Thus, this psychologist’s critique reaches far beyond simply exposing judicial compromise; it offers a path of painful yet necessary redemption—a roadmap toward a profound reawakening. It is a call for Nigeria’s judges to confront their deepest entanglements, to shed the hidden burdens that have quietly eroded their integrity. This is more than an invitation to accountability; it is a demand for collective courage, an act of personal sacrifice that pierces the heart of the judiciary’s silent dependencies. Only through this act of liberation can Nigeria’s judiciary reclaim its dignity, fortify itself against political influence, and re-dedicate itself to the sacred rule of law.

If heeded, this path could transform Nigeria’s judiciary into an unwavering pillar of democracy—a guardian of fairness, impartiality, and justice. It would signify not only the end of a corrupted past but the beginning of a judiciary reborn, one committed to the protection of all Nigerians with an uncompromising resolve, an institution that stands as a beacon of integrity in a landscape long darkened by shadows. This liberation is painful, but it is essential, and only through it can Nigeria’s legal system reclaim the honor and trust it so desperately needs to serve its people.