By Chukwuemekataylor Taylor
Mr Berthan Macauley’s passing is deeply felt. He was a lawyer truly beloved among his peers and junior colleagues alike. I was in awe of Mr Macauley from the outset; a feeling that never truly waned over the 25 years I came to know him. I was fortunate to practise law alongside him, and I was honoured by his friendship.
Truth be told, I was always on my best behaviour—punctilious—when “BMJ” was around. I sought his approval because I respected him. I wanted to be in his good graces because he set a true standard for legal comportment, sobriety, and excellence. I feel certain this sentiment is shared by the majority of my peers.
It breaks my heart to refer to Mr Macauley in the past tense, for it is an understatement to say I benefited from his scholarship, experience, and goodwill. I conjure him up in my mind’s eye—squinting with a wry smile and a short laugh—saying in undertones, “young Taylor”, as he fondly called me.
Mr Macauley taught me the little things—for example, why it was important to make notes in your textbook (if you must) in pencil instead of ink;
Mr Macauley taught me why it was important to register every instrument touching and concerning land.
As was usual with him, he supported every legal instruction with a statutory reference or case law. “Young Taylor, don’t you know about the case Berthan Macauley versus Jim Diamantopoulos?” “Young Taylor, have you not seen the amendment to the Registration of Instruments Act?”
Mr Macauley gave me wise counsel in all things, legal or otherwise. “Young Taylor, calm down, your blood too warm.” “Young Taylor, you nor go truly know your colleague pass wae den put money between oona two.” “Taylor the younger, I hope you are making money for the office when my ‘countryman’ (as he referred to Mr Nicholas Browne-Marke, my erstwhile pupil master) is away.”
Before the Sierra Leone Bar Association made the dress code for lawyers statutory, I usually wore beautiful but admittedly colourful ties. Mr Macauley once gave me the side-eye and remarked that my tie was lovely but… “not court appropriate.” Later that afternoon, Mr Macauley’s clerk delivered two dark-coloured ties to me at my chambers.
Mr Macauley commented on my oratory style. He noticed that I had a penchant for describing people or things in superlative terms, using “best”, “most recent” and “worst” frequently in sentences. His question to keep me in check was: “Says who, young Taylor?” I quickly caught on and would gradually downshift to the comparative level, substituting my adjectives with “better”, “more recent”, “worse”. I find that this tip from Mr Macauley gives me the flexibility to walk back from a compliment or criticism should the need arise.
Mr Macauley and I appeared on opposite sides of the courtroom only once during my 25 years of legal practice. It was a contentious matter between two companies in dispute over mining rights. The stakes were high—or so I felt. I confided in Mr Macauley whilst we were waiting in court that this case might “just make or break me”. He sent me a text message later that day: “Young Taylor, this case will not make or break you… you are a competent lawyer.”
Mr Macauley’s vote of confidence in my abilities spurred me on to further research in that case. I did not hold back in opposing Mr Macauley’s arguments. His demeanour was paternal; his legal protégé was coming into his own.
In that case, I learnt a lesson. There is a strategic benefit to filing an interlocutory injunction application. To succeed in that application, whether as a claimant or defendant, the party is obliged to put forward their best supporting evidence in the affidavit, unwittingly letting the opponent into the “war room”. Mr Macauley succeeded in saving costs for his client by inviting a settlement of the case rather than a protracted trial, with the odds heavily stacked against his client.
But first, he enquired whether I had been paid. He always looked out for the welfare of his colleagues. The fees in the case were satisfactory. Beyond that, it was as a result of the legal sparring I had with Mr Macauley that I caught the attention of other senior colleagues who had quietly been observing the duel between the Master and his student. That camaraderie, devoid of hostility, was attractive and I believe it endeared me to the bench and other great lawyers of our time.
Mr Macauley also proved to be a gracious opponent. After that case, he referred many clients to me, always with glowing recommendations which truly over-exalted my legal prowess. In fact, I can confirm that Mr Macauley did refer “my best client” to me 23 years ago.
I got to know Mr Macauley through the legal community, too, courtesy of my wife. She and Aunty Tacy [Mr Macauley’s late wife] were of “Southend descent” & worked together at Rokel Commercial Bank. So naturally, Mr Macauley was a guest at my wedding 21 years ago. He & aunty Tacy subsequently visited our home to drop off a wedding gift. Olayinka and I visited them at their home on a few occasions, and it was the norm for us to exchange congratulatory or condolatory messages as the occasion demanded.
On one occasion, I had just received a judgment in favour of a client, and it came to Mr Macauley’s notice. It was a big win, and I was actually euphoric. When he called to congratulate me, I said, ” Mr Macauley, I think I won too much”. His hearty chuckle over the telephone ended with a story about a successful lawyer who sent his client a short and abrupt telegram….”JUSTICE PREVAILED”. The client’s reaction was swift:” F…… JUSTICE; who won?”
Such off-coloured jokes belied the outward persona of the meticulously clad, 45-year-plus legal doyen at the Bar. But unknown to many, he had by then become “BMJ” to me, and I had graduated by his reckoning to” Taylor, the not so young friend”
And so I say goodbye to a friend. The last time I saw you was at my 50th birthday Thanksgiving event in April 2025. You had aged.I suspected you were ailing. You were a private person, so I dared not ask. I am glad that, over the years, I often told you how grateful I was for your support.
And so I say adieu to a great mentor. I will remember you in many of the scenes of good times past; at Aqua sportsclub, at the tennis court at Hill Station, with Messrs Abdul Tejan-Cole, Mohamed Bangura and @YadaWilliams, at your Chambers “shooting breeze” with Ernest Beoku Betts and I, at a house warming event on the beach with Dr and Mrs CTH Bell, with your friend Uncle Conrad Carlton Carew, at a few Bar Association Dinners/events, at Court no.1 of the High Court, with you chairing the seminar on the then-new 2007 High Court Rules, which you had co-drafted with your friend, Dr Ade Renner-Thomas [deceased]. By the way, the latter once described you as a” lawyers’ lawyer “, and there is not a single lawyer who would disagree. Who would forget how you presented the case for the Bar challenging the appointment of the Attorney-General and Minister of Justice without Parliamentary approval?
You really were amongst our finest.
You will be remembered for as long as I practise law, for there will always be stories about you and your instructions to me.
As a person, you had a wonderful sense of humour. I remember once when we were both invited guests at a colleague’s wedding; the bride went on for far too long in her vote of thanks. You quipped, ” you guys better buy your friend ear muffs”.
You stood like a colossus in the legal profession. You set very high ethical standards for the Bar to emulate. You worked really hard, too. It was not unusual to see your car parked at your office on Sundays.
You truly inspired, and I am grateful.
Recently, I have begun to take an interest in how we eulogise friends or colleagues who pass on to eternity. Do we remember them for the cases for which they gave sweat, blood, and tears in seeking justice for their clients? Or do we remember them by their warm handshakes, collegiality or humour? Since his passing, I have thought of how history would remember Mr Macauley. The jury is still out on that one.
I will remember him as the ” Lawyers lawyer”; one who adorned his trade-mark bow-tie, Trousering and Barrister’s Jacket and did his utmost best to live up to the expectations of his deceased father; a man who held himself to the highest standard in our noble profession and whose mastery of the law and legal practice against all odds will be his true legacy; earning him a coveted spot as a beacon of light in the profession of our mutual calling.
Mr Macauley has taken his final bow on the stage of life. The curtains have been drawn on a chapter in the legal history of Sierra Leone, which he so deeply enriched.
May there be many more of him.
Chukwuemeka CV Taylor.