Kekere-ekun Must Prove She’s Not Like Ariwoola: A Leader Who Ignored Public Trust

While the New CJN Might Be Different, Her Legacy Is Tied to the Judiciary’s Dark Past—Yet She Stands in Contrast to Her Predecessor, a Man Who Devalued Public Opinion and Embraced Nepotism: The Now Retired Justice Ariwoola, Whose Leadership Turned the Judiciary Into an Instrument of Privilege Rather Than a Guardian of the People’s Trust

Nigeria’s judiciary stands at a critical juncture, locked in a profound identity crisis, teetering between the promise of transformation and the grip of a legacy steeped in corruption, nepotism, and political influence. The recent appointment of Chief Justice Kudirat Kekere-Ekun has sparked cautious optimism; however, her deep roots within this very system raise as many doubts as they do hopes. Her call for accountability signals a potential departure from the deeply entrenched favoritism and disregard for public sentiment that marked the tenure of her predecessor, former Chief Justice Olukayode Ariwoola—a man infamous for fortifying the judiciary as a citadel of family alliances and impenetrable walls.

Ariwoola’s legacy was one of exclusion and elitism, where the judiciary transformed into a fortress for the privileged few, closing its doors to the ordinary Nigerian it was sworn to protect. Under his watch, justice was parceled out among an inner circle, effectively rendering it inaccessible to the average citizen, whose rights and grievances often fell by the wayside. This transformation of the judiciary into a self-serving apparatus betrayed the very principles of fairness and transparency, leaving the majority of Nigerians feeling abandoned and disillusioned by an institution meant to uphold their rights.

As Kekere-Ekun assumes this critical role, she faces a formidable question: can she truly dismantle a system engineered to protect its own interests at the expense of the people, and restore the judiciary as a guardian of justice for all Nigerians?

Under Ariwoola’s leadership, judicial autonomy was misconstrued as immunity from the needs and sentiments of the people. He was not just indifferent to public opinion—he was openly dismissive of it. Ariwoola’s tenure was a study in the dangers of detachment, an example of what happens when the judiciary closes itself off from the very people it is meant to serve. He promoted family members and allies to positions of power, molding the judiciary into a self-serving dynasty. For him, public trust was irrelevant; the judiciary was to serve itself first and the people second, if at all. This unchecked nepotism was not just a betrayal of the Nigerian people; it was a fundamental corruption of the judiciary’s purpose, a transformation of justice into a privilege reserved for those with connections rather than a right for all Nigerians.

The Nigerian public, however, does not forget. They know that the spirit of the law must intertwine with empathy, that a true rule of law recognizes the people’s plight as much as it does the statutes on which it stands. Justice cannot exist in a vacuum, divorced from the society it governs. Ariwoola’s tenure left a judiciary that was isolated, elitist, and above all, unresponsive to public welfare. His allegiance to personal alliances over public duty became a symbol of the judiciary’s betrayal—a judiciary that had closed its doors to the common man. In his Nigeria, the judiciary became a family business, a dynasty of legal privilege rather than a fortress of public trust. For the average Nigerian, this nepotism was not only disappointing but devastating, a glaring signal that justice in Nigeria was no longer for the people but for a select few.

Justice Olukayode Ariwoola’s tenure was marked by an unwavering disregard for public opinion—a stance he emphasized to new judges each time he swore them in. For Ariwoola, the judiciary’s duty was to remain detached from the sentiments of the people, as he repeatedly urged judges to ignore public voices and uphold an insular interpretation of judicial independence. In doing so, he cultivated a judiciary that saw itself as an isolated authority, removed from the very public it was meant to protect. This detachment from public trust became the hallmark of his leadership, aligning the judiciary more with privilege than with the people it was sworn to serve.

Chief Justice Kekere-Ekun’s rhetoric of reform offers some hope, yet her past association with this institution casts a shadow of doubt. Her years in this very system raise a difficult question: Can someone who rose through the ranks of a corrupt judiciary truly reform it? Nigerians have heard promises of reform before; they have seen leaders talk of change only to betray those very promises. For them, Kekere-Ekun’s call for accountability must translate into visible action. She must dismantle the structures of nepotism and privilege that Ariwoola fortified, transforming a judiciary known for its insularity into one that finally serves the Nigerian people.

The recent, pointed criticisms by Jibrin Samuel Okutepa capture the deep-seated frustration of Nigerians. Okutepa speaks for a populace that has watched their judiciary devolve into a tool for oppression rather than a refuge of protection. He describes a judiciary that, far from being the last hope of the common man, has become an instrument of persecution, with judges wielding their power not to serve justice but to silence, detain, and punish at the whims of the politically powerful. In a scathing rebuke, Okutepa highlights a chilling reality: some judges now act as “available instruments” for anyone willing to use them as a weapon against perceived enemies. He calls out a judiciary where partiality is not only tolerated but is woven into the very fabric of its operations. These are judges who openly play favorites, who wield their authority like emperors in their courts, responding not to justice but to political alliances and personal vendettas.

Recent rulings, like that of Justice Joyce Abdulmalik, further amplify the public’s distrust. Her decision to stall the release of federal allocations to Rivers State is seen as yet another example of the judiciary overstepping its role to intervene in political disputes. The ruling was widely perceived as a maneuver orchestrated by political interests rather than an impartial judgment. Former Governor Nyesom Wike’s involvement, as speculated by political observers, has only fueled concerns about the judiciary’s compromised state. Wike’s visible influence, particularly his inauguration of housing projects for judges, has led to widespread suspicion that the judiciary is no longer a neutral arbiter of justice but a willing pawn in political battles. Former House of Assembly member Friday Nke-ee’scommentary on the situation further exposes the rot within. According to Nke-ee, the judiciary in Rivers State has become a “drama set,” manipulated by political puppeteers, with judges allegedly refusing legitimate pleas to join cases, throwing out motions for joinders, and generally conducting themselves as if justice were an afterthought.

In a country where insecurity, economic instability, and political tension are already pulling at the seams, the judiciary’s descent into political favoritism threatens to accelerate a national crisis. This is more than just corruption—it is a looming catastrophe.

There is a palpable fear that if this trend continues, the judiciary, through its alliance with the powerful, could become the final destabilizing force that sends Nigeria spiraling into collapse. The judiciary is meant to be a stabilizing institution, a bulwark against chaos. But when judges use their power to settle political scores, to wage wars on behalf of those in power, and to withhold resources that belong to the people, they are not just betraying their duty—they are placing the nation itself at risk.

Figures like the Emir of Kano, Khalifa Muhammad Sanusi II, have joined the chorus of voices calling for a judiciary that respects its moral duty to the people. Sanusi’s words on divine accountability serve as a reminder that the judiciary’s power is not just a legal authority but a sacred responsibility. He, alongside figures like Dr. Wale Babalakin and Professor Konyinsola Ajayi, has warned that the judiciary’s descent into partiality and favoritism is a betrayal of its most fundamental duty. They echo the sentiments of a nation watching its judiciary transform from a refuge for the oppressed into an instrument of the privileged and the powerful. Their calls are not just for reform but for a return to the principles that make justice meaningful.

Chief Justice Kekere-Ekun stands at the heart of this crisis, bearing the weight of an institution on the brink. Her task is not only to lead but to redeem the judiciary from the shadows of her predecessor’s legacy. If her promises of accountability are to be more than empty words, she must confront the entrenched elitism and political influence that have pervaded the judiciary. The recent actions of certain judges, the unusual rulings, the intervention in political party disputes, and the outright manipulation of judicial power for political ends reveal a judiciary that has abandoned its duty to the public. Kekere-Ekun’s leadership will be defined by her ability to restore the judiciary’s commitment to impartiality, to return it to a place where the spirit of the law—rooted in human justice and public welfare—guides every decision.

The Nigerian public is exhausted. They demand a judiciary that does not close its doors to them, that does not favor privilege over principle, that does not wield its power for political ends. They demand a judiciary that respects both the letter and the spirit of the law, that sees justice not as an abstraction but as a means of serving the people. Kekere-Ekun’s task is not just to break with Ariwoola’s legacy of favoritism but to redefine the judiciary as an institution of the people, for the people. Anything short of a comprehensive transformation will be seen as another betrayal, a continuation of the judiciary’s decline into irrelevance and corruption.

The judiciary’s future hangs in the balance. The recent revelations and rulings underscore the urgency of reform, revealing a system that has lost its way, a system that has replaced impartiality with favoritism, justice with manipulation, and public service with self-service. If Kekere-Ekun fails to enact substantive change, the Nigerian judiciary risks becoming the final nail in the nation’s coffin, an institution that, rather than protecting the country, will have contributed to its downfall. In Kekere-Ekun’s hands lies the responsibility of proving that public trust is not just an ideal but a foundational principle.

The Nigerian people have waited long enough. They are demanding a judiciary that embodies the spirit of justice, a judiciary that understands that without public trust, the rule of law is nothing more than an illusion. Kekere-Ekun’s leadership must be the beginning of a new era, one where judges are chosen for their merit, where the judiciary serves all Nigerians, and where the power of the courts is a source of hope, not fear. Anything less, and Kekere-Ekun’s legacy will join the long list of disappointments.

Perhaps, it’s time for the judiciary to look inward in ways it never has before. After years of repeated concerns and worsening failures, there may be a need for an extensive retreat—and even more than that, a very private, confidential form of therapy for all justices, judges, and magistrates. This judiciary-wide intervention would benefit from the involvement of the Nigerian Psychological Association (NPA), the highest professional regulatory body in Nigeria, to provide confidential, professional support. Separate therapy sessions for each judicial level—Supreme Court justices, federal judges, state judges, local magistrates, and others—could allow the judiciary to confront and address the deep-rooted issues that continue to undermine public confidence.

And it must not end there. For the Senior Advocates of Nigeria (SANs) who repeatedly conspire within the system, who shop for particular judges to gain favors, and who pull cases out of jurisdiction to secure their interests—mere disciplinary measures from the Nigerian Bar Association (NBA) are no longer enough. They, too, should undergo therapy, a necessary intervention that challenges them to confront their ethical failings, recognizing the damage their actions inflict on the justice system. Through private, confidential sessions, SANs would be required to reexamine their motivations, to acknowledge the corrosive impact of their influence on the judiciary, and to reclaim the integrity expected of their rank. If we are to restore public trust, we must hold every actor accountable and guide them through the personal transformation required to mend Nigeria’s broken judicial system.

As a psychologist, I feel the weight of this in my heart and mind; tears run down my face, knowing that the integrity of our courts affects every life in our nation. We cannot continue down this path. The judiciary must heal itself if it is to heal Nigeria.

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Prof. John Egbeazien Oshodi
Professor John Egbeazien Oshodi, born in Uromi, Edo State, Nigeria, is an American-based police and prison scientist, forensic psychologist, public policy psychologist, and legal psychologist. He’s a government advisor on forensic-clinical psychological services in the USA and the founder of the Dr. John Egbeazien Oshodi Foundation for Psychological Health. With a significant role in introducing forensic psychology to Nigeria through N.U.C. and Nasarawa State University, he’s also a former Secretary-General of the Nigeria Psychological Association. He’s taught at esteemed institutions like Florida Memorial University, Florida International University, Nova Southeastern University, and more, and is currently an online faculty member at ISCOM University, Weldios University and Walden University.