As a young boy always sitting before the television,
it had always been my dream to be like the man
on wig and gown. The walking step of this man
with his fat brief case and his proficiency in
English Language spiked up my dreams to one day
walk like him and perhaps carry a bigger brief
case.
All these dreams nearly died a persuaded death
the day my mother knew of this dream. She gave
me portions of newspaper to read. Of course these
are portions either showing an assassinated lawyer
or one who died mysteriously. She told me tales
about how lawyers were buried with either their
tongue cut off or the face turned upside down.
She made me believe so many things. She made
me believe lawyers are liars and never a partaker
of Gods Kingdom. I was made to believe that one
must belong to one secret cult or the other to
become a powerful lawyer. I was told horrible tales
of rituals these men engage in.
The worst of it all my father told me not to be
deceived by what I see in television, that these
men are wretched pauper whose glory lies only in
being called a barrister. To lend credence to this
he took me to court and showed me lawyers with
worn out suit. Some of them descending from taxis
and motorcycles carrying files on one hand and on
the other their wig and gown. This was the biggest
blow I must confess. He took me to a residence of
a lawyer and showed me how filthy it was. To
crown it all he told me the man was a mere tenant
who possibly may not be up to date with rent
payment. He told me the only two lawyers my
village ever produced practised law and retired
with practicably nothing.
He told me of better professions, many of which I
could choose from. He took me to the hospital and
made me see the beauty of saving lives and the
money that comes with it. He made me realize I
will never lack customers because people are
bound to get sick. Next he took me to an
automobile coupling firm. He made me understand
I could become not just an automobile coupler but
a manufacturer of one if only I could leave the
dream of becoming a lawyer to read mechanical
engineering. He showed me a diagram of the Niger
Bridge and said to me "you can build and design a
better bridge if only you study civil Engineering".
He took me to the residence of a doctor and an
engineer, they were all beautiful duplexes with
beautiful gardens around them.
Finally he took me home and called me ''son''. His
words I still cannot forget,
"I cannot force you to become that which you do
not wish to become. I can only advice you. I have
shown you all you need to know to make a right
choice. Think about it and make your father
proud".
Very obvious it was, the wanted me to either
pursue a course in medicine or engineering and
certainly not Law. No doubt he felt very bad when
I maintained my ground to pursue this calling of
mine. My mother was more disappointed of the
two.
They both got it all wrong. They failed to realise
there are hungry doctors and engineers too and
that there are well to do lawyers also. They failed
to realise that Law is my calling. It seems they
forgot that aside belonging to secret societies that
one can also be an inner member of the christian
confraternity. They seemed to forget all they
taught me in at childhood not to be driven by
money and that good name is better than riches.
Or may be they think I have forgotten those early
morning devotions they implored us to practise
with an upright hand in whatever profession we
find ourselves. May be they thought the law
profession will swallow all those morals up. They
failed to show me lawyers who practised, lived
long, retired comfortably and maintained the faith.
Most of all our priest whom he describes as a man
after Gods own heart read law too. They simply
just got it all wrong.
This is a path I have chosen, this is a path I will
see the beauty of the end.
#Fiction
Photo- Tunde Okewale
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