By Abdul Tejan-Cole
With profound sorrow, I mourn the passing of Berthan Macaulay Jnr, a colossus of our legal landscape, an incomparable mentor, a steadfast colleague, and a cherished friend. His passing on 24th February 2026, coming so swiftly after that of his dear friend, former Acting Chief Justice Valesius Thomas (VVT), feels like the closing of an era. Yet his legacy endures in the jurisprudence he helped shape, in the lives he touched, and in the principles he so faithfully embodied.
My journey with Berthan began shortly after I was called to the Bar. During pupillage, I would linger in court long after my pupil master's cases had concluded, listening to other advocates, intent on sharpening my craft. One lawyer soon captivated me entirely. His precision, eloquence, and commanding mastery of the law set him apart from all others. I shadowed him discreetly, absorbing every nuance, every turn of phrase, every tactical choice. Berthan noticed, and in his characteristically gracious way, he encouraged it. When I finally had audience in court, I drew freely from what I had learnt watching him. His phrasing, his logic and his unyielding pursuit of justice. In a sad irony, amid the fraught politics of the judiciary, I sometimes prevailed in cases on the very arguments he himself had made, even as he lost before the same judge. It was a testament to his enduring influence, even when justice faltered around him.
His mentorship extended far beyond quiet observation. As Berthan rarely appeared in the Magistrates' Court, he entrusted me with briefs to represent his clients there, helping me build my practice from the ground up with quiet, deliberate generosity. He connected me with his late sister Avril, whose office at Income Tax was housed at Electricity Building. She passed along briefs, particularly from then NPA workers, giving me invaluable early exposure to the realities of practice.
Our professional paths crossed often as adversaries, yet always with civility and mutual respect, a rarity in the adversarial arena. I recall arguing an appeal before the Supreme Court when I unearthed an authority that in fact bolstered his position rather than my own. Without a moment's hesitation, Berthan rose in open court to thank me before the panel, acknowledging the gesture with genuine warmth. Over the years, he repaid that generosity many times over, sharing authorities, debating fine points of law, and enriching my understanding through spirited exchange. His vast knowledge and openness of spirit made him a true collaborator, even across the Bar table.
Berthan always had my back. During the Seaboard West Africa case in the Court of Appeal, Justice VW pressed me to abandon one of my grounds of appeal, deeming others more significant. As I struggled to hold my ground, she admonished me sharply, remarking that I was "becoming like Mr. Macaulay." Berthan, present in court, rose swiftly and quipped, "Indeed, my lady — he is just like me. He does not concede when he is right." His wit dissolved the tension in an instant and affirmed the bonds between us in a single, perfect sentence.
I also had the privilege of appearing before him as arbitrator in the Sierra Leone State Lottery matter, opposite the late J.B. Jenkins-Johnston. Berthan was impeccably fair, thorough, impartial, and wise in his deliberations. Afterwards, I commended his award warmly and suggested he follow in his mother's distinguished footsteps by joining the bench. He gave me a long, searching BMJ look, without saying a word. The silence spoke volumes about his humility and his deep preference for the independence of private practice.
Our collaboration extended to legislative drafting. Alongside the late Chief Justice Renner Thomas, VVT, and others, we worked on the Companies Act 2009 and the Bankruptcy Act. In this work his characteristic virtues such as intellectual rigour, meticulous attention to language, and an instinct for practical consequence, were indispensable. When VVT passed, my first thought was of Berthan's grief, such was the depth of their friendship. It is no surprise that he departed so soon after. Some bonds are simply that deep.
To a select few, Berthan was "Section 2," a sobriquet that captured his unyielding fidelity to the letter of the law, even when that letter was inconvenient. He stood at the heart of some of the most significant legal proceedings of our time, leaving an indelible mark upon Sierra Leone's jurisprudence.
Beyond the courtroom, his influence reached into my personal life with characteristic ease. He extolled the virtues of Apple products so persuasively that I abandoned my perfectly serviceable Lenovo for a Mac. He was, it has been said, Steve Jobs’s finest ambassador in Sierra Leone. He was a committed devotee of the squash court, his attempts to recruit me there were unsuccessful but we found our common ground on the tennis courts at Hill Station every Sunday, joined by Martin Michael, Yada H. Williams, Mohamed Abu Bangura, Franklin Ibemessie (the regular victim of my ferocious forehand lol), John Benjamin, and a few others.
Those sessions would often give way to long, unhurried late afternoons at Lower Pipeline, savouring Aunty Tacey's cuisine, especially her Shepherd's pie, and our favourite beverages, our competitive spirit yielding gracefully to camaraderie. Aunty Tacey was adored by us all. She was so gracious, warm, and the perfect complement to Berthan's steady, reassuring demeanour.
Reflecting on his legacy calls to mind a spirited debate I once had with my late father on whether BMJ the son was a “better” lawyer than BMJ, the father. My late father argued passionately for the QC, BMJ Snr; my own loyalties, I must confess were with the son. It was, admittedly, an imperfect comparison as I never had the privilege of witnessing Snr at the Bar, but it speaks to the enduring and remarkable Macaulay family’s legacy in the legal profession.
A lady once captured Berthan's essence with disarming precision, telling me: "He is so handsome and cool, you both have that casual swag that's dignified, nerdy, and just a little snobbish, but you can't help but love it." Indeed, Berthan carried himself with an effortless distinction all his own, inspiring admiration and affection in equal and generous measure.
Berthan Macaulay Jnr, you were a beacon of integrity, a master of the law, and a true friend. Your guidance shaped me, your friendship enriched me and your memory will endure. You raised the bar - in every sense of the expression - too high. I suspect that you are quietly satisfied to know it remains so.
Rest well, Section 2, until we meet again.
Note: Abdul Tejan-Cole is a lawyer and an independent consultant.
(c) Copyright 2025: Politico (12/03/26)
