In our earlier intervention, we restated a time-honoured principle of law: any act carried out in defiance of a subsisting court order is a nullity and will not escape the firm sanction of the court. That principle is neither ornamental nor discretionary—it is the spine of constitutional governance and the very essence of the rule of law. It is against this settled background that the unfolding situation within the Nigerian Bar Association under the leadership of Afam Osigwe, SAN, must be critically examined.

The President, in preparation for the expiration of his tenure, constituted an Electoral Committee to midwife the process of electing his successor. That process has since become the subject of litigation, and a competent court of law, properly seized of the matter, made an order of injunction restraining the President and the said Committee from proceeding with the election pending the determination of the suit. Crucially, the President himself is a party to that action. The implication is direct and inescapable: he is bound—personally and institutionally—by the order of court.

Yet, rather than halt the process in deference to judicial authority, the Committee has continued to take steps towards the conduct of the election. This posture, with respect, amounts to a troubling defiance of a valid and subsisting court order. The law is elementary: once a court is seized of a matter, parties are under a strict obligation to maintain the status quo ante bellum. No party is permitted to take steps that would foist a fait accompli on the court. To do so is to undermine the adjudicatory authority of the judiciary and render its eventual decision nugatory.

It may be argued—perhaps by those advising the Committee—that an appeal has been entered against the order, and that an application for stay of execution is pending. But that argument, with respect, is legally untenable. The mere filing of an appeal or a motion for stay does not operate as a stay of proceedings or suspend the binding force of the order appealed against. Until a stay is granted, the order remains valid, operative, and must be obeyed to the letter.

This is precisely where the recent decision of the Supreme Court in the Peoples Democratic Party appeal becomes instructive. In that case, the apex court set aside the Peoples Democratic Party Ibadan Convention on the ground, among others, that actions taken in defiance of court orders cannot stand. Whether one agrees with the outcome or not, the principle reaffirmed is unmistakable: the judiciary will not lend its authority to validate acts born out of disobedience. That decision is not merely a political pronouncement; it is a judicial warning—clear, direct, and far-reaching.

For the NBA, an institution that prides itself as the custodian and defender of the rule of law, the implications are even more profound. The Bar occupies a moral high ground in national discourse. It speaks against executive lawlessness, condemns institutional impunity, and champions judicial independence. It cannot, therefore, afford to be seen engaging in conduct that appears to desecrate the very principles it exists to protect. To persist on this path is to risk eroding the moral authority of the Association and diminishing public confidence in its commitment to legality and due process.

The lesson from the Supreme Court’s pronouncement is simple but compelling: obedience to court orders is not optional; it is mandatory. Where there is dissatisfaction with an order, the lawful remedy lies in challenging it through due process—not in circumventing or disregarding it.

In the final analysis, this moment calls for restraint, reflection, and a principled recalibration. The NBA must lead by example. It must demonstrate, in conduct as much as in rhetoric, that the rule of law is not a convenient slogan but a binding creed. Anything short of that would not only be a defiance—it would be a desecration.

Conclusion

If, in the face of a subsisting court order, the election is eventually conducted, it will almost certainly suffer the same juridical fate as the nullified Peoples Democratic Party Ibadan Convention—liable to be set aside for having been carried out in defiance of judicial authority. The law is settled, and the consequences are predictable. One cannot but express sympathy for the eventual—albeit foisted—leader who may emerge from such a questionable and illegitimate process. That office, rather than being a badge of honour, risks becoming a burden tainted by legal uncertainty and institutional embarrassment. It is a price that need not be paid—an avoidable humiliation that foresight and fidelity to the rule of law would have averted.

The choice, therefore, is stark: compliance and legitimacy, or defiance and inevitable nullification. History—and the courts—have shown which path endures.

M. D. Idris, Esq.
Member, Lagos Branch