The ceiling collapsed during a land matter, and the judge refused to rise

Ceiling just fell for Court 7. Not small plaster o. Real concrete. Dust everywhere, lawyers grabbing their wigs, somebody's case file scatter for floor. And the judge? My oga just look up once, adjust him glasses, and say "Counsel, continue."

I was the registrar that day. I remember thinking, this is the whole Nigerian system in one room. The roof can be falling on everybody's head but the matter must go on. We swept the debris during the short adjournment. By 2pm we were back, same courtroom, same cracked ceiling, and the land dispute between two brothers continued like nothing happened.

Those two brothers had been fighting over their late father's land in Ikorodu for eleven years. Eleven. Their mother was still alive then. She died before judgment came. Nobody settled. The law moved, slowly, but it moved. The house is still standing there today, empty, nobody living in it. I pass it sometimes on my way to church.

You know what I learned? A courtroom is not where you go to find peace. It is where you go when peace has already left the building. If your family is dragging a matter over land, ask yourself, do you want the property or do you want your people?