I initially found the news amusing but ended up deeply disturbed upon hearing about the arraignment of 76 young suspects—some as young as 12 to 15 years old—charged with terrorism and attempting to overthrow the government. When I first heard it on the radio, I thought I must have misheard. But when it appeared repeatedly on television, showing visibly malnourished and frail children, I knew we had a serious issue. The nation saw on TV young faces, emaciated and ill, many of them so thin and weak that they seemed on the verge of collapse.
By Bala Ibrahim
Yet, the prosecution lawyer shamelessly declared on camera, “They are adults. Some of them are married men with kids. The children you saw were just there to greet their loved ones.” At that point, I had to turn off the TV, feeling physically unwell. I needed painkillers to calm down. I asked myself: Is this what the law has come to mean? To lie so brazenly without regard for morality or conscience?
The dictionary provides two definitions for the word “law.” The first describes it as a system of rules recognized by a country or community to regulate behaviour and enforce penalties. The second defines it as a rule governing proper conduct in sports. A friend of mine offered a third definition, saying the law is “common sense, sensibly applied.” All three definitions imply a rightful process, including in prosecution. None remotely supports the type of callous disregard exhibited by that lawyer.
Some may argue that the prosecution lawyer is simply doing his job, but the late Gani Fawehinmi, SAN, famously argued that legality should be guided by morality. What gain would this lawyer achieve if, by his misleading statements, these juveniles were convicted? Can we not engage with our conscience, even in service to our country? Where are the voices that incited the nation with bravado before these protests? Why aren’t they charged? These individuals are well known. I condemned the protests and supported the arrest of those inciting violence, but I never imagined that children would be scapegoated in this way.
The 76 suspects, including 28 minors, were reportedly arrested on August 3 across various states—Kaduna, Kano, Gombe, Plateau, Katsina, and the FCT—and detained for months before their arraignment. The government has charged them with treasonable felonies, rioting, destruction of public property, assaulting security officials, looting, terrorism, and attempting to overthrow the government, among other accusations. During their hearing before Justice Obiora Egwuatu of the Federal High Court, Abuja, one of the children fainted. All pleaded not guilty, and bail was set at N10 million each. While adults are to be held at Kuje Correctional Centre, the minors are being sent to Bostal Children’s Home, pending the fulfilment of bail conditions.
On Channels TV, a female lawyer representing these children pointed out that they were held beyond the legal period and in facilities unsuitable for minors. Some were even detained with adults at the IRT facility, notoriously known as the Abattoir. Why should juvenile suspects be treated as adults when we have a juvenile justice system?
The juvenile justice system comprises laws, policies, and procedures for dealing with non-adult offenders. It aims to protect the rights of young people and provide rehabilitation and reintegration rather than mere punishment. Unlike the adult justice system, it discourages prosecutorial charges and instead relies on probation officers and social workers, with appropriate facilities to house juvenile offenders.
Whatever arguments lawyers present in court, the human rights violations against these minors will come under scrutiny. Arbitrary detention, cruel treatment, and violation of their rights and privacy are not only illegal but morally indefensible. This entire episode falls squarely under the category of “brutishly blaming babies.”
