Hon. Justice Joseph Adetunji Adefarasin

The Roots of a Giant

The Scale and the Shepherd: The Full Legacy of Justice J.A. Adefarasin

To understand the man, I called “Dad,” you have to understand the soil from which he grew. Joseph Adetunji Adefarasin was born in 1921 in Ijebu-Ode. He was born into a Nigeria that was still finding its voice under colonial rule, but his household was one where the values of the “old world”—honor, scholarship, and an unwavering fear of God—were the bedrock.

He was a brilliant student, driven by a conviction that the rule of law was the only way to build a civilized society. This drive took him across the Atlantic to London, where he entered the hallowed halls of Lincoln’s Inn. He wasn’t just there to get a certificate; he was absorbing the philosophy of jurisprudence. When he was called to the Bar in the late 1940s, he didn’t stay in Europe to seek personal fortune. He came home to build a nation.

The Union of Two Worlds

One of the most pivotal moments in my father’s life—and certainly in mine—was his meeting with my mother, Hilda Petgrave. She was a Jamaican nurse, a woman of incredible strength and grace. Their marriage was a fusion of Caribbean fire and Nigerian discipline.

Together, they raised us in a home where the Bible was the first and last word. My father was the “Chief Judge” even at the breakfast table. He taught us that your name is worth more than gold. He would often say, “A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches.” He lived that. He didn’t just preach it.

The Bench: A Decade of Incorruptibility

In 1974, my father was appointed the Chief Judge of Lagos State, a position he held until 1985. You have to understand the climate of Nigeria during those eleven years. We saw the transition from military regimes to the Second Republic and back to military rule. In a time when the judiciary was often under immense pressure to bend to the will of the powerful, my father was a “Rock.”

He was known for his landmark judgments that prioritized the common man and the constitution over political expediency. He believed the courtroom was a sacred place, second only to the church. He was meticulously punctual, impeccably dressed, and intellectually formidable. When he walked into a courtroom, the atmosphere changed. It wasn’t just because of his robes; it was because of the weight of his character.

An African Voice on the World Stage

My father’s legacy didn’t stop at the Nigerian border. In 1977, he was elected President of the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies (IFRC).

This was a massive moment for Africa. At the height of the Cold War, a Nigerian judge was leading the world’s largest humanitarian network. He traveled the globe, from Geneva to the most remote disaster zones, advocating for the dignity of the suffering. He showed me that the same hands that hold the gavel of justice must also be the hands that offer the bread of mercy.

The Father Behind the Robes

People often ask me what it was like growing up in his house. It was a house of order. He was a man of few words, but his silence carried more weight than most people’s shouting. He was a lover of classical music, a man of deep reflection, and a pillar of the Anglican Church.

I remember the discipline. He didn’t tolerate mediocrity. If you were going to do something, you did it to the highest standard of excellence. This is why, in my ministry today, I am obsessed with excellence—it is his DNA flowing through me. He was the one who taught me that you cannot lead people if you cannot first lead yourself.

The Sunset of a Legend

My father retired from the bench in 1985, but he never truly stopped serving. He remained a beacon for the legal profession, a mentor to many who are now senior justices themselves.

When he passed away in 1989, the tributes didn’t just mention his titles. They mentioned his honesty. In a country where many public servants leave behind massive estates of questionable origin, my father left behind a legacy of clean hands and a pure heart.