For the better part of the last three months, Nigerian lawyers have lived through what can best be described as campaign season in wigs and gowns. WhatsApp groups that ordinarily debate court decisions have become battlegrounds for presidential endorsements. Branch meetings have turned into subtle campaign rallies. Facebook timelines are awash with glossy posters bearing smiling faces of Senior Advocates of Nigeria, while X has become a theatre where supporters defend their preferred candidates with the same passion reserved for presidential elections.
It is election season again in the Nigerian Bar Association.
By the time voting opens, thousands of lawyers scattered across the country—and indeed across different jurisdictions of the world—will log into the ECNBA voting platform to make what is arguably the most important decision for the Association every two years. On the ballot are three distinguished Senior Advocates of Nigeria: Lateef Omoyemi Akangbe, SAN, Aare Olumuyiwa Akinboro, SAN, and Oyinkansola Badejo-Okunsanya, SAN. Three accomplished lawyers. Three respected members of the Inner Bar. Three individuals convinced that they possess the ideas, temperament and leadership required to steer Africa’s largest Bar Association through another chapter of its history.
On paper, the election appears straightforward. Three candidates. One winner.
Reality, however, is far more complicated.
This election is taking place at a time when many lawyers believe the Nigerian Bar Association stands at an important crossroads. Questions about the welfare of young lawyers refuse to disappear. The cost of legal practice continues to rise. Branches continue to complain about inadequate support from the national body. Digital transformation has become less of a luxury and more of a necessity. Lawyers expect a stronger NBA on issues affecting the rule of law, judicial independence and constitutional governance. At the same time, members increasingly demand transparency in the Association’s own affairs. Before anyone can speak about changing Nigeria, many lawyers insist the Bar must first strengthen itself.
Perhaps that explains why this year’s campaign has been unusually intense.
Unlike previous elections where personalities often overshadowed policy, the conversations this year have been noticeably different. Lawyers are asking difficult questions. Beyond the carefully designed posters and beautifully worded manifestos, members want to know what each candidate has actually done for the profession. They want evidence rather than slogans. They want to know who remembers the young lawyer struggling to pay practising fees. They want to know who understands that many practitioners outside Lagos, Abuja and Port Harcourt face challenges completely different from those of lawyers in large commercial firms. Above all, they want to know who can unite an Association that is often as politically divided as the country it seeks to influence.
Interestingly, despite the vigorous exchanges that have characterised the campaigns, this is not an election of political strangers.
Each of the three candidates has spent years building a reputation within the legal profession. Each has chaired committees, served the NBA in various capacities or distinguished himself or herself in legal practice. None arrived at this election by accident. Yet, beyond those similarities, their campaigns could hardly be more different.
If one were to summarise the race in a single sentence, it would be this: the election is less about who is more qualified to lead the NBA and more about what kind of NBA lawyers want to build over the next two years.
Take Lateef Omoyemi Akangbe, SAN, for example.
Among lawyers who follow commercial litigation closely, Akangbe is hardly an unfamiliar name. A respected dispute resolution practitioner and Managing Partner of Sofunde, Osakwe, Ogundipe & Belgore, his professional reputation was firmly established long before he declared his ambition to lead the Bar. Yet what has perhaps defined his campaign more than his legal pedigree is the image he has carefully projected—a calm administrator rather than a populist politician.
Spend enough time listening to his interviews or reading his campaign materials and a pattern quickly emerges. Akangbe rarely attempts to excite his audience with dramatic promises. Instead, he speaks the language of systems, institutions and governance. His recurring argument is simple: many of the problems confronting the NBA are not caused by a shortage of ideas but by weaknesses in implementation. According to him, the Association requires stronger institutions, prudent financial management and leadership that thinks beyond election cycles.
That message has found a receptive audience, particularly among lawyers who believe the NBA has become too reactive and insufficiently institutional. To them, Akangbe’s greatest selling point is not charisma; it is competence. Supporters frequently point to his record as Chairman of the NBA Lagos Branch and his stewardship of the NBA National Finance Committee as evidence that he possesses the administrative discipline required to manage a complex organisation.
Yet that same campaign style has also attracted criticism.
Some younger lawyers privately describe his message as “too corporate.” Others argue that while discussions about governance and institutional reform are important, they do little to reassure the young practitioner earning barely enough to cover rent, transport and annual Bar Practice Fees. In an election where welfare has become a dominant campaign issue, there are those who wonder whether institutional efficiency alone is enough to inspire lawyers looking for more immediate relief.
Whether that criticism is fair is another matter entirely.
The truth is that Akangbe’s campaign appears to proceed from a different philosophy. Rather than promising to solve every problem directly, it suggests that sustainable solutions can only emerge from a financially stronger and better-managed Association. It is an argument that appeals more to long-term thinking than immediate gratification.
Whether members agree with that philosophy will become apparent when the votes are counted.
If Akangbe has campaigned as the institutional reformer, Aare Olumuyiwa Akinboro, SAN has presented himself as the consummate NBA insider.
There are few people in this race whose relationship with the Association stretches as far back as his. Long before the current generation of young lawyers entered the profession, Akinboro was already serving in various capacities within the NBA. From the Abuja Branch to the office of General Secretary, his campaign has consistently reminded lawyers that his experience is not theoretical—it is lived.
Indeed, experience has become both his strongest credential and the central theme of his campaign.
Where Akangbe speaks of institutional strengthening, Akinboro speaks of institutional memory.
Where others promise to learn on the job, he argues that he already understands the machinery of the Association because he has spent decades helping to operate it.
…His campaign slogan—“No Lawyer Left Behind”—is perhaps the clearest indication of where he intends to position himself politically. It is more than a clever line for campaign posters; it is the philosophy around which his entire campaign has revolved. Throughout his engagements with branches and in his public statements, Akinboro has consistently argued that the NBA cannot truly claim relevance if a significant percentage of its members, particularly those in the early years of practice, continue to struggle for professional opportunities, decent remuneration and meaningful representation within the Association.
That message has resonated with many younger lawyers.
It is not difficult to understand why.
Across the country, there is a growing feeling among lawyers in their first ten years of practice that the profession has become increasingly difficult to navigate. The romantic image of legal practice often gives way to the reality of modest salaries, rising professional expenses, delayed career progression and limited access to quality mentorship. Every NBA presidential candidate has acknowledged these concerns in one form or another. The difference lies in the emphasis each has chosen to place on them.
For Akinboro, young lawyers are not simply another constituency to be courted during election season; they occupy the centre of his campaign narrative. Whether one agrees with his proposals or not, it is difficult to accuse him of ignoring that demographic.
Yet his campaign has not been entirely without controversy.
One of the defining moments of this election was the ECNBA Manifesto Presentation and Candidates’ Debate. It was intended to provide members with a rare opportunity to hear directly from those seeking to lead the Association. While Akangbe and Badejo-Okunsanya took to the stage to defend their ideas and answer questions, Akinboro stayed away. His decision was deliberate. He maintained that concerns surrounding the electoral process and the reported attempts at external interference made his participation inappropriate. Predictably, opinions within the Bar immediately became divided. Some lawyers applauded what they saw as a principled stand in defence of due process. Others argued that whatever his reservations, members deserved the opportunity to hear him defend his vision alongside the other candidates.
Whether that decision ultimately helps or hurts his electoral chances remains to be seen. Elections, after all, are often decided not merely by principles but by perception.
If Akinboro’s campaign has been built around experience, Oyinkansola Badejo-Okunsanya, SAN, has perhaps presented the most contemporary campaign of the three.
She has succeeded in projecting herself as a candidate who understands that the NBA of 2026 cannot be led in exactly the same way it was led ten or fifteen years ago.
Much has already been said about the symbolism of her candidacy. It would be impossible to ignore the fact that she is seeking to become one of the very few women ever elected President of the Nigerian Bar Association. Yet, interestingly, she has rarely invited lawyers to support her merely because of that symbolism. Instead, she has consistently redirected attention to her professional record, leadership experience and policy proposals. That, perhaps, has been one of the more intelligent decisions of her campaign.
It has allowed conversations about her candidacy to move beyond gender and towards governance.
Listening to Badejo-Okunsanya during campaign engagements, one quickly notices another recurring theme—accountability.
Where Akangbe speaks about institutions and Akinboro speaks about inclusion, Badejo-Okunsanya repeatedly returns to transparency, communication and member engagement. Her argument appears to be that lawyers should not merely belong to the NBA; they should feel connected to it. An Association that communicates better, embraces technology more effectively and remains responsive to its members, she argues, is one that naturally commands greater respect both within and outside the profession.
That approach has earned her considerable support, particularly among lawyers who believe the NBA must modernise not only its operations but also the way it relates to its members.
Of the three candidates, Badejo-Okunsanya has arguably maintained one of the most active public-facing campaigns. She participated in the ECNBA debate, granted interviews, attended branch engagements and consistently articulated her vision whenever opportunities presented themselves. In an election where visibility often translates into familiarity, that strategy may prove significant.
Still, reducing this election to a comparison of personalities would be to miss the bigger picture.
The truth is that there is remarkably little separating these candidates in terms of professional accomplishment. All three have enjoyed distinguished careers. All three have earned the rank of Senior Advocate of Nigeria. All three have served the Bar in different capacities. None can reasonably be described as lacking competence.
The real differences begin to emerge when one examines not their résumés, but their priorities.
Akangbe’s campaign asks lawyers to think institutionally. It is built on the premise that sustainable welfare can only come from a financially prudent and efficiently managed Association. His emphasis on governance, fiscal responsibility and institutional reform reflects that philosophy.
Akinboro, on the other hand, has campaigned almost as the custodian of institutional memory. His message is that experience matters; that the NBA should be led by someone who understands its inner workings and who appreciates the everyday concerns of members across branches. His repeated emphasis on inclusion and the welfare of young lawyers has given his campaign a distinctly grassroots flavour.
Badejo-Okunsanya offers yet another perspective. Her campaign suggests that the next chapter of the NBA should be defined by openness, innovation and a stronger relationship between the national body and ordinary members. Rather than portraying change as a rejection of the past, she frames it as the natural evolution of the Association.
Interestingly, the manifestos themselves reveal fewer differences than the campaign rhetoric might suggest.
Each candidate promises improved welfare, stronger continuing legal education, a more influential NBA, defend the rule of law, and greater transparency.
This is hardly surprising. After all, no candidate seeking the presidency of the Bar is likely to campaign against accountability or members’ welfare.
The real question, therefore, is not what they promise, but who appears most capable of delivering those promises.
And that is where the election becomes genuinely fascinating. There is another layer to this contest that deserves attention.
Away from official campaign events and carefully choreographed manifesto presentations, another election has quietly been taking place on lawyers’ phones. Every endorsement posted on LinkedIn has sparked debate. Every campaign flyer shared on WhatsApp has generated dozens of opinions. Every video clip uploaded to X has been dissected by lawyers determined to read between the lines.
Some endorsements have undoubtedly generated momentum. Others have generated controversy. Yet seasoned observers of NBA politics know that endorsements, while influential, rarely determine the outcome of elections on their own. The history of the Association is replete with examples of candidates who enjoyed the backing of prominent members but failed to translate that support into votes.
Perhaps that is because NBA elections have always retained an element of unpredictability.
Unlike conventional political contests, where ethnicity, party structures or financial resources often dominate, lawyers have shown an unusual willingness to defy expectations. Internal caucuses, regional alignments and professional networks undoubtedly matter, but they do not always dictate the final outcome. As one respected observer recently noted, the politics surrounding this year’s election has again exposed the tension between informal zoning arrangements and the right of every qualified member to seek office.
What, then, is likely to decide this election?
That question may ultimately be answered by a group that has featured prominently throughout the campaigns—the young lawyers.
For years, successive NBA administrations have acknowledged the challenges confronting young practitioners. Every election renews the promise to address them. This year’s candidates have all made those concerns central to their campaigns, albeit in different ways. The candidate who succeeds in convincing younger lawyers that his or her plans are not merely aspirational but achievable may well hold the decisive advantage.
The 2026 NBA presidential election is, therefore, much more than a contest between three accomplished Senior Advocates.
It is a conversation about identity.
What kind of Bar does the Nigerian lawyer want?
Should the Association prioritise institutional consolidation? Should it lean on administrative experience? Or should it embrace a leadership style that promises a more connected, technology-driven and inclusive future?
By the time the electronic ballots close, one candidate will emerge victorious. Two others will return to private practice carrying the disappointment that inevitably accompanies every democratic contest.
But whoever wins will inherit far more than the office of President.
He—or she—will inherit the expectations of more than a hundred thousand lawyers, the responsibility of defending the independence of the profession, and the difficult task of convincing a sometimes sceptical membership that the Nigerian Bar Association can still be a force not only for lawyers, but for the rule of law itself.
When the campaign posters eventually disappear and the congratulatory messages fade from social media timelines, that, more than anything else, is the standard by which the next NBA President will be judged.