Opinion
Can New CJN Sanitise The Judiciary?
With the recent appointment of Justice Mariam Aloma Mukhtar as Nigeria’s new Chief Justice, the ratio in gender consideration for the first time in the history of the country could be said to be fair. Two men to one woman is a good ratio, and it should be a base of comparison between the leadership of the male and that of the female at the end of this administration. This development is a good omen to Nigeria if the opportunity can be utilised to the best interest of the citizenry and enthronement of democracy and the rule of law.
The executive and the legislative arms of Nigerian government have never been entrusted to Nigerian women. The first female Speaker of the lower chamber of the National Assembly, Hon. Patricia Etteh, which was the highest elective position ever occupied by a woman, was impeached.
Mukhtar’s appointment is another outstanding achievement by President Goodluck Jonathan. Despite opposition against Aloma’s emergence as the CJN, the President, who has shown clear disposition to empowerment of Nigerian women and the recognition and promotion of excellence. He has made history as the first Nigerian president to appoint a first female CJN. More women (at least 35% of the executive members) are in his government.
Mukhtar was the first woman on the bench and the first female Justice of the Supreme Court. She was also the first woman to be appointed into the Appeal Court. In 2000, she served in the Court of Appeal and ranked third in seniority behind his predecessor, Justice Dahiru Musdapher and the President of the Court of Appeal. In 2005, she was confirmed as Supreme Court Justice and was much later joined by Justices Olufunlola Adeyeye and Mary Odili.
She is the 13th indigenous CJN Nigeria has produced. The past CJN include, Adetokunbo Ademola (1958–1972), Teslim Olawale Elias, (1972–1975), Darnley Arthur Alexander (1975–1979), Atanda Fatai Williams (1979–1983), George Sodeinde Sowemimo (1983–1985), Ayo Gabriel Irikefe, (1985–1987), Mohammed Bello, (1987–1995), Muhammad Lawal Uwais, (1995–2006), Salihu Moddibo Alfa Belgore, (2006–2007), Idris Legbo Kutigi (2007–2009), Aloysius Ignatius Kastina-Alu (2009 -2011) and Justice Dahiru Musdahper (2011-2012).
Justice Murkhtar has been described as a trail blazer in her career and one who has risen to the pinnacle in the judiciary on account of her brilliance, resilience and hardwork. President Jonathan acknowledged this in his letter to the Senate that, “There is the hand of destiny in the life of this distinguished jurist. From the records, she was the first female lawyer of the Northern extraction, the first female high court judge from the North, first female second-in-command, Kano State judiciary, the first Nigerian female jurist to be elevated to the Court of Appeal where she served for over 17 years. Her lordship’s achievement is an inspiration to all citizens especially womanhood not only in Nigeria but also in Africa and the rest of the world”.
Since her appointment by the President, reactions have been pouring in as to whether she is capable or not to lead the judiciary at this trying period. This is no doubt a challenge to the new CJN.
She should see her appointment as a heavy task that has been placed on her shoulders. She must tell the world that Nigerian women have come of age.
Even though her appointment was made by the President, it should not be the basis for her to subject the judiciary which is the last hope of common man to the dictate of other two arms. There are a lot of rots in the judiciary which demand the employment of judicial officers with wealth of experience in criminal jurisprudence and terrorism to preside over the courts. She should base their appointments on merit and ensure that she fulfills her promise of cleansing the system.
Cleansing an already established system in Nigeria is not just as easy as reeling out measures to do it. Rhetorics are mostly employed in solving Nigeria’s problem. This has not yielded positive results.
There have been serious complaints of delayed trials particularly in cases of corruption, terrorism and other matters of serious concern. Many citizens have been behind the bars for very minor reasons, while others have been moving freely on the streets in Nigeria and abroad, yet with very serious punishable offences.
Such complaints have forced many Nigerians to seek the creation of special courts or designation of special judges with the required experience and speed to handle them. As the CJN seems to have opted for the second choice of designating special judges, she has to ensure that the judges to be appointed into such positions are incorruptible.
Her promise of reforming the judiciary which was made clear during her confirmation by the Senate is a heavy burden. If the reformation of the Nigerian judiciary can be possible under a woman, this may prompt many Nigerians to opt for a woman leadership at the National Assembly and even first Nigerian president. This is the beginning, nay, the testing beginning for Nigerian women. Justice Murkhtar cannot afford to disappoint the women folk.
But can there be any change in the judiciary under Murkhtar? Can our judiciary really become a house of incorruptible judges and justices? Time will tell.
Ajah, a writer and advocate of humanity and good governance writes from Abuja.
Muhammad Ajah
The events that unfolded in Abuja on Tuesday November 11, 2025 between the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, Chief Nyesom Wike and a detachment of soldiers guarding a disputed property, led by Adams Yerima, a commissioned Naval Officer, may go down as one of the defining images of Nigeria’s democratic contradictions. It was not merely a quarrel over land. It was a confrontation between civil authority and the military legacy that still hovers over our national life.
Nyesom Wike, fiery and fearless as always, was seen on video exchanging words with a uniformed officer who refused to grant him passage to inspect a parcel of land alleged to have been illegally acquired. The minister’s voice rose, his temper flared, and the soldier, too, stood his ground, insisting on his own authority. Around them, aides, security men, and bystanders watched, stunned, as two embodiments of the Nigerian state clashed in the open.
The images spread fast, igniting debates across drawing rooms, beer parlours, and social media platforms. Some hailed Wike for standing up to military arrogance; others scolded him for perceived disrespect to the armed forces. Yet beneath the noise lies a deeper question about what sort of society we are building and whether power in Nigeria truly understands the limits of its own reach.
It is tragic that, more than two decades into civil rule, the relationship between the civilian arm of government and the military remains fragile and poorly understood. The presence of soldiers in a land dispute between private individuals and the city administration is, by all civic standards, an aberration. It recalls a dark era when might was right, and uniforms conferred immunity against accountability.
Wike’s anger, even if fiery, was rooted in a legitimate concern: that no individual, however connected or retired, should deploy the military to protect personal interests. That sentiment echoes the fundamental democratic creed that the law is supreme, not personalities. If his passion overshot decorum, it was perhaps a reflection of a nation weary of impunity.
On the other hand, the soldier in question is a symbol of another truth: that discipline, respect for order, and duty to hierarchy are ingrained in our armed forces. He may have been caught between conflicting instructions one from his superiors, another from a civilian minister exercising his lawful authority. The confusion points not to personal failure but to institutional dysfunction.
It is, therefore, simplistic to turn the incident into a morality play of good versus evil.
*********”**** What happened was an institutional embarrassment. Both men represented facets of the same failing system a polity still learning how to reconcile authority with civility, law with loyalty, and service with restraint.
In fairness, Wike has shown himself as a man of uncommon courage. Whether in Rivers State or at the FCTA, he does not shy away from confrontation. Yet courage without composure often feeds misunderstanding. A public officer must always be the cooler head, even when provoked, because the power of example outweighs the satisfaction of winning an argument.
Conversely, soldiers, too, must be reminded that their uniforms do not place them above civilian oversight. The military exists to defend the nation, not to enforce property claims or intimidate lawful authorities. Their participation in purely civil matters corrodes the image of the institution and erodes public trust.
One cannot overlook the irony: in a country where kidnappers roam highways and bandits sack villages, armed men are posted to guard contested land in the capital. It reflects misplaced priorities and distorted values. The Nigerian soldier, trained to defend sovereignty, should not be drawn into private or bureaucratic tussles.
Sycophancy remains the greatest ailment of our political culture. Many of those who now cheer one side or the other do so not out of conviction but out of convenience. Tomorrow they will switch allegiance. True patriotism lies not in defending personalities but in defending principles. A people enslaved by flattery cannot nurture a culture of justice.
The Nigerian elite must learn to submit to the same laws that govern the poor. When big men fence off public land and use connections to shield their interests, they mock the very constitution they swore to uphold. The FCT, as the mirror of national order, must not become a jungle where only the powerful can build.
The lesson for Wike himself is also clear: power is best exercised with calmness. The weight of his office demands more than bravery; it demands statesmanship. To lead is not merely to command, but to persuade — even those who resist your authority.
Equally, the lesson for the armed forces is that professionalism shines brightest in restraint. Obedience to illegal orders is not loyalty; it is complicity. The soldier who stands on the side of justice protects both his honour and the dignity of his uniform.
The Presidency, too, must see this episode as a wake-up call to clarify institutional boundaries. If soldiers can be drawn into civil enforcement without authorization, then our democracy remains at risk of subtle militarization. The constitution must speak louder than confusion.
The Nigerian public deserves better than spectacles of ego. We crave leaders who rise above emotion and officers who respect civilian supremacy. Our children must not inherit a nation where authority means shouting matches and intimidation in public glare.
Every democracy matures through such tests. What matters is whether we learn the right lessons. The British once had generals who defied parliament; the Americans once fought over states’ rights; Nigeria, too, must pass through her own growing pains but with humility, not hubris.
If the confrontation has stirred discomfort, then perhaps it has done the nation some good. It forces a conversation long overdue: Who truly owns the state — the citizen or the powerful? Can we build a Nigeria where institutions, not individuals, define our destiny?
As the dust settles, both the FCTA and the military hierarchy must conduct impartial investigations. The truth must be established — not to shame anyone, but to restore order. Where laws were broken, consequences must follow. Where misunderstandings occurred, apologies must be offered.
Let the rule of law triumph over the rule of impulse. Let civility triumph over confrontation. Let governance return to the path of dialogue and procedure.
Nigeria cannot continue to oscillate between civilian bravado and military arrogance. Both impulses spring from the same insecurity — the fear of losing control. True leadership lies in the ability to trust institutions to do their work without coercion.
Those who witnessed the clash saw a drama of two gladiators. One in starched khaki, one in well-cut suit. Both proud, both unyielding. But a nation cannot be built on stubbornness; it must be built on understanding. Power, when it meets power, should produce order, not chaos.
We must resist the temptation to glorify temper. Governance is not warfare; it is stewardship. The citizen watches, the world observes, and history records. How we handle moments like this will define our collective maturity.
The confrontation may have ended without violence, but it left deep questions in the national conscience. When men of authority quarrel in the open, institutions tremble. The people, once again, become spectators in a theatre of misplaced pride.
It is time for all who hold office — civilian or military — to remember that they serve under the same flag. That flag is neither khaki nor political colour; it is green-white-green, and it demands humility.
No victor, no vanquish only a lesson for a nation still learning to govern itself with dignity.
By; King Onunwor
