Agba: The Tailor-Made Mediator

Nicole Park and Carl Moss, once close collaborators, now found themselves on opposite sides of a bitter dispute. Their partnership, built on shared ambition, had fractured due to clashing priorities.

Their partnership agreement stipulated mediation—a formality Nicole assumed would be straightforward—but when the recommended mediator said he could only do a virtual session, she became anxious. Carl had agreed without hesitation.

Despite it being 2025, Nicole still struggled with the idea of negotiating something she considered so deeply personal across a digital divide. 

Late one night, she video-called her close friend, Tayo, to vent about the whole thing.

“I just don’t trust this whole virtual thingy,” she said, pacing her apartment. “It’s not just the technology—it’s the distance. How can anyone get it right when they’re not even in the room with you?”

Tayo chuckled gently. “Nicole, I get it. You like to look people in the eye. But maybe this isn’t about the technology. It’s Carl, isn’t it?”

She sighed. 

“Of course it’s Carl. He’s always so quick to brush things off, to push for the fastest solution. He just doesn’t get what’s at stake.”

“Then you’ll have to make sure the mediator sees it,” Tayo said. “Be clear about what matters to you. And if you don’t like how it’s going, simply stop it.”

Nicole nodded reluctantly.

***

A few days later, Nicole signed in to join the virtual session. She hoped that the mediator was prepared and had done his homework about the dispute and the parties. When the screen came to life, a serene, dignified older man appeared. His deep brown skin was framed by a neatly trimmed gray beard, and he wore a flowing agbada adorned with intricate geometric embroidery. The neutral backdrop behind him was tasteful and professional.

Nicole stared, momentarily caught off guard. “A Yoruba elder?” she murmured, the thought carrying her briefly to fond memories of her tour through Ile-Ife, Nigeria, with Tayo. The mediator had sharp but kind eyes. His calm voice carried a distinct Yoruba accent. It steadied her nerves even as her skepticism remained.

“Good day to you both,” he said, addressing her and Carl. His tone was measured but warm. They had been told he was also an expert in intellectual property disputes, but something about his presence hinted at a depth that went beyond credentials. Nicole braced herself. Whatever happened, she wasn’t going to get rushed into anything she’d regret.

With a gentle but firm hand, Agba guided the conversation. He listened intently. His questions were precise, almost surgical, encouraging them to explore the roots of their disagreement. As the session progressed, Nicole felt her defenses lower, despite herself. Agba’s questions forced her to articulate things she hadn’t even admitted to herself. Carl, too, seemed to soften, acknowledging for the first time the impact of his choices on her. The mediator didn’t take sides, nor did he even suggest solutions. He simply nudged them, skillfully dismantling the walls they had built.

By the end of the session, the tension had dissipated. They reached an agreement that balanced Nicole’s ethical principles with Carl’s pragmatic goals—one she hadn’t imagined was possible when they began. Relief swept over her, mingled with quiet admiration for the man who had guided them there.

“Thank you,” Nicole said sincerely as the session ended. Carl also expressed his gratitude.

***

Months later, Nicole visited her good friend, Tayo, in Nigeria. And since Carl also knew and liked Tayo, she invited him to come along and he agreed. While at Tayo’s, the conversation went to their mediation experience and Tayo listened intently as Nicole recounted the session while Carl was enjoying some pounded yam and nodding his head at the conversation. 

“That sounds like a Nigerian word, rather, a Yoruba word for ‘elder’,” Tayo said, a grin spreading across his face. “Agba—someone wise, who knows the weight of words. What was he like?”

Nicole smiled.

“Remarkable. Empathetic, sharp, and completely neutral. I wish all mediators were like that.”

“Come to think of it,” Carl interjected, “you look a lot like him.”

“That’s true!” Nicole said, laughing as the resemblance struck her.

Tayo leaned back in his chair, a playful but curious expression crossing his face. 

“Agba, you say? Hmm. You do know Agba may not have been an actual person, right?”

Nicole froze, her laughter faltering. “What do you mean?”

Tayo reached for his tablet and typed something into a search bar. He passed it to Nicole, who immediately scanned the headline: “Resonance: Tailor-Made Mediators.”

“What?” she whispered, scrolling through the article. 

It described Resonance, an advanced AI system designed to craft mediators that perfectly matched the emotional and social context of its clients. Using massive legal databases and emotion-recognition algorithms, it created mediators with uncanny precision and effectiveness.

“It can’t be,” Carl muttered, leaning over to read. “But…” He trailed off, his brow furrowing.

Nicole’s hands trembled as she handed the tablet back. Carl pulled out his own device, scrolling through their mediation contract. After a moment, he sighed. 

“It’s right here in the terms. We actually agreed to an AI mediator.”

“I should have read the fine print more carefully. This is why I don’t like to rush into anything!” Nicole said, shaking her head. “But it’s strange… Agba felt so… real.”

“More human than most people I know,” Carl quipped.

Nicole didn’t laugh. Her mind raced, trying to piece together the implications. 

“I wonder if we would have reached the same agreement if we’d known!” she said, finally.

Back home, Nicole’s unease grew and she sought out a lawyer. The lawyer reviewed the mediation agreement and Resonance’s role.

“Let me understand you better. So this is not a case of enforcement of AI-mediated agreement”, he said, while running his fingers across the Singapore convention.

“No, we like the agreement”, Nicole responded. 

“Hmmn, it says here that the system emphasizes party autonomy…facilitative mediation style…. Etc. To challenge Resonance, you might need to show the AI manipulated the process or coerced you in some way. Otherwise, you have nothing.”

“It may have subtly influenced our conversation, using who knows what—emotional profiling, psychological moves…”, Nicole said.

“Like mediators do?”, the lawyer asked. “The thing is, even though the mediator was a non-human person, you and Carl agreed to the process, you actively participated in it, and more importantly, you were and are still pleased with the outcome. You said it yourself that Agba merely facilitated a conversation and with very few words for that matter. I’m not really sure what the problem is.”

The lawyer’s words left Nicole with mixed feelings. She couldn’t shake off the sense that something larger was at stake—not just for her, but for anyone relying on sophisticated machines in this manner. If this machine had guided them so well, how long before such systems began to go further? How long before they weren’t just facilitating, but subtly deciding? Carl, for his part, was ready to move on. He’d briefly considered the privacy implications of using an AI that analyzed their emotions and behavior but dismissed it. To him, it didn’t matter as much as the positive outcome of the mediation.

Seun Lari-Williams

Seun Lari-Williams is a PhD researcher focusing on dispute system design in the creative sector at the Faculty of Law, University of Antwerp, Belgium. He holds a bachelor’s degree in law from the University of Lagos, Nigeria, and a master’s degree in Intellectual Property and Competition Law from the Munich… MORE