The Man, The Lawyer, The Advocate: How Barrister Nkea Emmanuel Defends the Voiceless

By Boris Esono Nwenfor

In the bustling corridors of Cameroon's legal landscape, Barrister Nkea Emmanuel has been at the forefront of defending the voiceless, using his legal expertise to fight for the marginalized, the oppressed, and those whose fundamental rights have been violated. With a career spanning over two decades, he has earned a reputation not just as a formidable lawyer, but as an unwavering defender of human rights.

Born into modest beginnings, Nkea Emmanuel’s journey into the legal profession was driven by a deep-rooted passion for justice. “You hardly hear that a minister's human rights have been violated. You hardly hear that the human rights of a magistrate have been violated. But rather you will hear that, the human rights of some truck pusher, of some, you know, sick person, of some woman, some girl, or some physically handicapped person, or some other person who is so vulnerable in society. Those are the people who are the biggest victims of human rights violations,” Barrister Nkea said.

“I want to be remembered as one man who stood up for the rule of law. As one man who insisted on that, or even against it, in the face of some challenges, who insisted on legal accountability. If I'll be arrested and even jailed for doing the work that I do, so be it. I should be remembered as one person who stood up against judicial tyranny.”

In an interview with PAV , Barrister Nkea Emmanuel sheds light on his journey to becoming a well-respectable lawyer, his successes in the profession and why he ventured into fighting for the human rights of the downtrodden.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and what inspired you to pursue a career in law?

Barrister Nkea: I was called to the bar in 1999, first as a people lawyer. And after two years, in 2001, I became a full-fledged lawyer. Suffice it to state that when I took the bar exam in 1999, I was the first on merits in the whole country. Thereafter, I did my training for two years with my brother of blessed memory, who died in September last year, Barrister Peter Nkea.

In 2001, immediately after I passed my bar exam, I set up my own law practice in Muyuka where my brother was based, under the name Veritas Consul Law Firm.

By 2004, I travelled out of the country to The Gambia, where I remained and worked for 10 years, as a legal advisor, a state counsel, a principal magistrate, what you call a president of the magistrate court in Banjul, a high court judge, and president of the special criminal court in The Gambia. And then as an acting judge of the court of appeal. During that time, I also served as an adjunct lecturer at the University of The Gambia, where I taught law courses in criminal law, criminal procedure, and constitutional law.

I also taught in The Gambia Law School, which was just established, as one of the founding lecturers of The Gambia Law School. And through my presence at The Gambia Law School, The Gambia Law School opened up to a meeting with Cameroonians. And I'm happy to say that the Cameroonians who have been through The Gambia Law School have always excelled.

I returned to Cameroon in February 2014, where I reopened my law practice, which you'll find now. I'm married. I'm a father of one child and many other children adopted.

Academically, I studied at Seat of Wisdom College, Fontem, where I did my secondary education. I proceeded to Government High School, Muyuka, where I stayed with my late elder brother to do my high school. I moved from there. We were the first batch of the University of Buea when it was just established. After three years at the University of Buea, I joined my brother in his chambers, where after a few years, I took a bar exam and passed. After my first law degree, which was in 1997, in 2009, while I was in The Gambia, I went to take up a research master's in forced migration studies at the University of Witwatersrand in Johannesburg, South Africa; I had an interest in xenophobic violence that had just taken place in 2008.

In 2017, and 2018, I obtained a scholarship from the British government, the Chevening Scholarship from the British government, to study international human rights law. And this was based on my previous work in the human rights field. I was given a scholarship where I obtained a master's degree in law, with distinction, from Lancaster University in the UK.

Could you describe your areas of specialization within the legal field and what motivated you to enter the law profession ?

Barrister Nkea: I was motivated to join legal practice by the experience I found in court. My brother was a lawyer. At that time, he was the only resident lawyer in Muyuka. And so, from time to time, when lawyers came to do cases in Muyuka, they either slept in his house or ate in his house.

And then there was this lawyer by the name of Billy Emmanuel, who also happened to be my brother's student. On a particular Friday, I went to the market in Muyuka, the court was just next to the market. And there was a fierce legal argument in the court hall, which I mistook for a fight or a quarrel between Barrister Emmanuel and my elder brother.

After the court session, the two of them walked into a nearby off-license and they sat down. And they were talking and laughing and eating soya and drinking beer. It struck me so badly and I said, no, there must be something in this profession that makes it possible that people could just query in one second and the next minute they are friends again. So that is what motivated me to read in law.

In terms of specialization, I do general legal practice, but I have a knack, and a soft spot for human rights protection. Law is all about fairness, it's all about justice and holding people accountable. But international human rights law or human rights protection by itself goes deeper. Because you discover that the victims of human rights violations are very vulnerable persons.

You hardly hear that a minister's human rights have been violated. You hardly hear that the human rights of a magistrate have been violated. But rather you will hear that, the human rights of some truck pusher, of some, you know, sick person, of some woman, some girl, or some physically handicapped person, or some other person who is so vulnerable in society.

Those are the people who are the biggest victims of human rights violations. And so, it becomes important in that context to see how, if you have a sense for justice, if you have a passion for fairness, if you have a passion for equity, there is no way you can disconnect your practice from that. That is what drove me deep into human rights protection.

What are some of the most significant cases or legal achievements you’ve been involved in? And how have these experiences shaped your career and approach to law?

Barrister Nkea: For my whole life, as a lawyer, and as a judge put together, one of the most important cases that I've handled in my lifetime was the trial of the Chief Justice and the Minister of Justice in The Gambia. As a judge, it is very difficult to administer justice to your brother, Judge.

This was a case where the Chief Justice was removed from office and charged to court for corruption-related offences. He was charged together with the Minister of Justice and the Solicitor General.

In that whole case, you had the Minister in charge of Presidential Affairs, the Secretary General of the President's Office, and the Minister of Presidential Affairs. Those four people, it was like trying the whole state. Because the Minister of Presidential Affairs had been in that office, was the closest person to the head of state.

It was a very difficult moment. But I had to take responsibility to dispense justice. At some point, when these people discovered, there were serious attempts at, getting me to compromise justice. But I carried forward to the job, and after I gave my judgment in the case, none of them appealed.

The Minister of Presidential Affairs did not appeal. The Solicitor General did not appeal. The Minister of Justice did not appeal. But the Chief Justice, whom I had convicted and sentenced to two years, also appealed. The Court of Appeal upheld the conviction. The Supreme Court upheld the conviction.

That was one of the cases that has shaped my whole mind frame, my whole perception of what justice is all about. And it tells you that if you are not strong, you cannot administer justice. Justice is not for the weak. If you are not strong, if you don't have strong willpower, you cannot administer justice.

Back here in Cameroon, I would say that you must have heard about the Wazizi case. You must have heard about the Kongso Antoinette case. You would have also heard about the cases which we filed against the Procureur General of this region.

The one of Wazizi is not new. Wazizi was arbitrarily arrested and he was beaten to death. When they arrested him, they didn't know what to do with him and they created the impression that he was a terrorist or he was abetting terrorism or whatever. But the truth in the matter is that Wazizi had a farm somewhere inside the Muea area there. That farm had been invaded by these separatists and they were using it as their small hideout.

Wazizi could not go to that farm anymore, but the military said that because that farm was owned by him, he must be… And so that's why they arrested him. I got the news of that arrest during the National Dialogue. I was a participant in the National Dialogue. And when I got news from my collaborator then, Barrister Ewule, who was at the police station following up. We decided to file a habeas corpus application. That was the first time I came in contact with what you would call judicial interference of a scarce magnitude.

They were hiding that Wazizi was dead. So, when I filed the habeas corpus application listing his name (Procureur General) as one of the defendants, he failed I was trying to establish, and build evidence that would be used against him tomorrow somewhere in some international forum as one of the persons who had abetted the disappearance of Wazizi. And so, they did some funny, funny objections. They were controlling the court. But we kept coming back, kept coming back until the government felt embarrassed from the declaration that Equinox made and came and confessed that the man had died.

We had information that he was beaten to death. And we volunteered. There was a commission of inquiry that was established by the head of state to look into the matter and to establish, to hold all those responsible accountable. And we opted to act as witnesses to that commission to provide information that was in our possession. We were never called. We wrote. We were never called. And we have written several times to the minister of defence who is directly overseeing that, that we want to know the outcome of those investigations. We have not been told. Up till today, we don't know what the outcome is.

But come to think of it, when you look at the way Wazizi's murder was treated by the state, nobody's been charged in court. Nobody has been held accountable. Not to our knowledge. And then you see, compare it with the Martinez Zogo, which is almost the same thing. And you see how the full weight of the law from presidential directives, ministers or people who have the rank of minister, the head of the intelligence service, they were all arrested and charged to court. You begin to wonder whether, you know, we have two categories of people in this country.

They were both journalists. And so that is why I tell you again that this will take you to the conclusion that Anglophones are more vulnerable in this country than Francophones. That is the conclusion that I can draw any time, any day by these discrepancies in the way the state has handled these two cases. We didn't end there. We are before the African Commission now. And we have filed submissions. We are waiting. I think the state has also filed something in reply. We are waiting.

I mean, these cases have just helped to shape me more, to give me courage to say that, no, if lawyers are unable to speak out, on such gross violations, nobody will do. We describe, some of these actions as public interest litigation. Because it is a way of asking questions. It does not mean that we are unpatriotic. This is our country. All these actions are just trying to make our country better.

How do you balance the two-the Legal profession and fighting for humanity?

Barrister Nkea: They are interrelated. But the only challenge that we have with some of these public interest cases is that nobody pays us for it. You have to pull money from your pocket, file these cases, support the cost, and all that, which is a huge challenge. But when you have the passion to do it, you see the means coming.

What are the major challenges you’ve encountered in your humanitarian work and how do you overcome these challenges?

Barrister Nkea: The main challenge is that you'll be victimized, right? You're not only victimized, but you're stigmatized. I have friends in the judiciary, some of whom have retreated. They say being a friend to you is a liability. But those are the only challenges that we have. But we agree to face them squarely. Those challenges will not deter us. If you have a friend who is in the judiciary and cannot stand for justice, that is not worth a friend. It's not worth a friend.

What advice would you give to young lawyers or individuals who are just entering into the legal profession?

Barrister Nkea: The truth is that the economy is very bad. And so, it creates the challenge of having even access to wealth. And so, there's going to be a lot of temptation in that, giving their number, they'll be rushing here and there, doing fast things. That doesn't help, it doesn't pay.

My advice to them is that they should work hard. And they should live to the truth of their oath. The oath they took enjoins them to be the mouthpiece for the downtrodden. They should live true to their oath. You don't need to go and be fighting with people physically, but you take your pen, you file your brief and go to court.

That is how we challenge illegality. We go to court. We don't go and hold a rally and denounce people. Even when they are thrown out, we still feel that the impact, the message has been sent across.

With all these challenges, how do you stay motivated and inspired in your work?

Barrister Nkea: It's a calling. Just like you journalists, I'm not sure how much you are paid a month. But you keep going. So that's why I say it's not usually all about money. You are motivated by the passion for justice. You are motivated by your passion for fairness. You are motivated by a passion for equality, to see that no, what is right is right. What is wrong should be condemned. Sometimes, let me tell you, when you go home after you have done some of these cases, you sleep so peacefully that, you find some eternal satisfaction in you. So that is what motivates me. It's not necessarily about the financial aspect.

What legacy do you hope to leave behind through your legal and humanitarian work and how would like people to remember you?

Barrister Nkea: I think that I still have a long time to go in this practice. But if we are talking today and we are talking about these issues, it's because you have identified that these are issues that have created an impact on society. And it's for these kinds of issues that I want to be remembered as one man who stood up for the rule of law. As one man who insisted on that, or even against it, in the face of some challenges, who insisted on legal accountability.

That is how I want to be remembered. As somebody who stood up to make sure that the legal practice, legal practitioners are respected. When you have a tyrannical system, not necessarily from the executive, because you have what is also called judicial tyranny, where you see the courts try to misuse the law, to intimidate and punish people unjustly. That is what has been happening in the South West for the past, where you hear that they have arrested a lawyer, even for civil offences. They criminalize civil offences just to arrest a lawyer. The whole purpose is to create fear, right? To say that, okay, if we have arrested this man, it means that we can arrest you.

So, it pushes you to self-censor your movements and your activities, but we are not deterred by that. If I'll be arrested and even jailed for doing the work that I do, so be it. I should be remembered as one person who stood up against judicial tyranny.