Of justice and jungle justice

There is something sinister about the way we think and about our collective definition and understanding of the word “justice” as a country. When a patriot with some modicum of common sense takes a critical look into the scope by which different interpretations are being read into justice, one concludes that one’s country is sick, or perhaps mad, and nothing else.

In Nigeria, justice is synonymous with words like lynching, jungle justice, mob attack, while from the elitist viewpoint, it’s an avenue for subduing the commoners into a damnable quietude of class submission. Quite miserable enough, from the legal point of view, justice is a partially corrupt judge donning the wig of bias.

Or, what definition can one give to a country that grants widely-known Machiavellian treasury looters and betrayers of public trust a presidential pardon, but can jail hunger-ridden and hapless commoners with hard labour for a pardonable slight deviance? What is the difference between a law that sends a poor man to 10 years’ imprisonment upon a simple theft of N1000, triggered by frustrated living, and that of some ignorantly emotional entities among us who lynch someone because of a tin of rice?

It won’t surprise anyone that hardly a week passes without having a case of Mr A being sent to three-year jail for stealing a loaf of bread when he couldn’t pay for bail. When you see this, the question you ask yourself is: If Mr A had had the amount requested by the court for bail, how could he think of stealing? There are many sad narratives like this. And this reminds me of a teacher in my town who was caught stealing garri and subsequently dragged to the police station. During the course of the investigation, it was learnt that he was a teacher with a family to cater for. And he had not been paid his salary for over six months. As I was told, the D.P.O was forced to give N10,000 to the man and ordered his immediate release. This is Nigeria we all want to be proud of. Not a country of jungle justice.

That also reminds me of a governorship aspirant in my state during the last election who said on the radio that there was a time he visited the state’s prison to seek for the release of some convicts. According to him, of the 10 people he was able to get out, six told him that they met their waterloo because of cheap offences ranging from stealing fowls or a little amount of money and all sorts. My feeling when I heard this is when your country cannot help your situation but can prosecute you for your frustration-provoked missteps, you’re doomed for life!

This leads me to the video and pictures of a “seven-year-old boy” who was set ablaze in the Badagry area of Lagos State, for allegedly stealing garri. If this narrative is true, then for the late urchin’s death is rest, because he is no more a victim of a callous and clueless state. But for us, that horrible incident has portrayed our society as malfunctioning, backward and highly bereft of human sympathy. Irrespective of our epochal exposure, we are still the same hysteric country –a land of many misplaced priorities; a country that acts before reasoning.

Because you will wonder what joy was being derived by those bystanders at the terrible scene of that gory incident. What was the joy of those taking pictures without human feeling? And what step has our government taken to bring the culprits of that dastardly attack to book? What this story tells us is that Nigeria is the same country that killed four University of Port Harcourt students. We all remember the Aluu killing, what it generated and the aftermath of it. This is the same country, where the poor become the scapegoats of (in)justice –whether biased or “jungle.”

The poor boy was a Nigerian; he wore a green cloth –colour symbolic of our national strength –and yet, they killed him. May God make Nigeria better, and most importantly saner. And for those who were at the scene of the incident enjoying how a poor lad became a victim of Lagos scavengers, “eyin nuu, Olohun nuu” (they are left to God to be judged).

Rahaman Abiola Toheeb

Kano
donrabtob@gmail.com