1. THE CHIEF BROTHERS
PREFACE – There shall be tears before bedtime.
My father had 3 brothers who were great men of their generation. They
were closed associates to the first President of Ghana, Dr. Kwame
Nkurumah and this accorded them opportunities, power and wealth
throughout his Presidency.
After the over throw of the President in 1966, they found them other
careers in large scale farming (coconut and oil palm plantations), road
construction projects and commercial transport business. They
individually made fortunes and hence money was no object to them With
no political affiliations, they made themselves busy bodies in their village.
If no politics, then litigation must be their next show of power.
They were highly respected individually but also feared. As far back as I
could remember, their 'family meetings' involved finding the best way to
outwit and outsmart the chief in their village or how to ensure no one
encroached on their land – they had vast of it. They had the most
powerful lawyers in their corner as they could afford them. They were
demi-gods and they could do no wrong inspite of certain unsavoury acts
on their parts. They flaunted their cars and worth fearlessly and none
dared them.
At age 6, my father strenuously warned me ‘make sure you fight your
corner, always go to court and state your case. Do not ever be
intimidated or bullied, never ’. I was naturally timid and my father hated
it. He wanted me to be a lawyer and to specialise in Litigation for
posterity and continuity of the family business.
At age 8, my father and his brothers set out to state their case in court.
The battle was over chieftaincy in the traditional area of Ghana where we
come from. The occupant of the stool, the chief or the king had passed on
and the argument ensued as to who becomes the next chief. They had
already schemed the court battle in anticipation of the death of the chief
and were hence ready for a fight.
There were two factions from the same lineage who were battling it out in
the high court to prove whose side of the extended family was qualified to
be enstooled as a chief (King). That traditional area is one of the richest
in the Ghana with vast land and so the battle was, according to them
worth the fight. We the children of the brothers, I called them Chief
Brothers as they had no sister had a uniform made for us to attend court
whenever the case was called.
The razzmatazz that came with the court attendance coupled with song
and dance of the supporting villagers were rare to behold. The Chief
Brothers’ children attended court about twice a year as these cases were
usually adjourned severally and lasted several years. We were excited
anytime the hearing was coming up and new uniforms were made for us

2. to attend the high court. We were little trainee litigators and we loved it.
Our grandmother the chief brothers’ mother was the biggest noise maker
and would scream throughout the village for the other faction to know we
had the money to show them ‘pepper’. No elder or Council of Chiefs from
the traditional area or the Regional office would dare make attempt to
mediate or adjudicate. They were the big boys with the cash to flaunt.
Their opponents were poor who had the impudent to believe they had the
right for the next chief to come from their lineage. The Chief Brothers had
the pedigree and they had the right to choose their chief.
'We would not heed to any advice from whosoever because we have the
money', says the eldest chief brother and so it carried on. 'Nobody, I say
nobody will dare to tell us what to do. We shall leave it to the Judge to
make a decision and until then, no chief will be enstooled'.
Typically, with litigation, the high blood pressure resulting from these
court battles between the factions started to take the Chief Brothers one
after the other. One died suddenly from heart attack, then my father was
the second to pass on at age 50 in October 1976 and then a third 6
months later in April 1977, leaving behind one Chief Brother. Ironically,
the lone Chief Brother was the richest of them and the least educated.
He had initially been enstooled as the caretaker Chief of the stool during
the course of the litigation and loved it but the court ordered that the
stool remained vacant on appeal by the other faction. Technically, he was
the most aggrieved person and would fight ‘blood for blood’. Did the
battle end with the lone Chief Brother after the sudden deaths of his 3
brothers? My answer is a resounding no, he carried on with the
unflinching support of his mother until the battle was completely lost
some 15 years after it commenced and as expected, after the demise of
their mother. This particular stool was vacant until I graduated from
University. Mind you, this matter started when I was 8 years old.
The lesson of my life – negotiate, mediate, adjudicate, arbitrate until
there is no alternative than to go to court. I managed to heed to the
Chief Brother’s advice to become a Lawyer but my passion for ADR as
opposed to litigation is unquestionable. I chose mediation most because I
love to think I have the flair to be impartial, fair and independent and the
satisfaction of seeing feuding parties shake hands after mediation is
gratifying.
These perils have been associated with litigation for centuries. Abraham Lincoln,
who was a prominent lawyer in the 1850s, is quoted as saying “Discourage
litigation. Persuade your neighbours to compromise whenever you can. Point out
to them how the nominal winner is often a real loser - in fees, expenses and
waste of time.”