By P. L Osakwe
INTRODUCTION.
In any civilised democracy, the law is meant to serve as both a shield for the innocent and a sword against wrongdoing. But in Nigeria, recent events have once again shown that our justice system often feels like a broken compass, pointing in no direction of fairness, equality, or reason. The now-infamous airport assault case is one such example, revealing the cracks in our system from investigation to prosecution, from bail to trial.
● The Incident
A passenger at a Nigerian airport found herself at the centre of a legal storm after allegedly assaulting a Federal Airports Authority of Nigeria (FAAN) staff member. The altercation, captured partially on camera, quickly became a media sensation. But beyond the headlines, the handling of the case by the authorities has exposed a disturbing pattern of selective justice.
■ The Enforcement Question: Can Law Be Upheld by Breaking It?
It is a fundamental principle of law that no one, not even law enforcement, can break the law to enforce it. To do so is to erode the very foundation upon which justice rests. Yet, in this case, the arrest, detention, and procedural irregularities surrounding the suspect suggest a willingness to bend or bypass legal safeguards in the name of “making an example.”
The irony is bitter: when those entrusted with upholding the law trample on due process, they become offenders themselves.
■ The Speed of Prosecution Or Lack Thereof.
In Nigeria, we have seen suspects accused of grievous offences like armed robbery or kidnapping brought to court within days. Yet in this case, the accused remains in prison until October before trial—months after the incident. Her offence? Not treason, not terrorism, but a single act of physical assault. If justice delayed is justice denied, then justice here has been strangled before it could speak.
This raises uncomfortable questions: Is this delay strategic? Is it punitive detention disguised as due process? Or is it a reflection of institutional bias, where public opinion and political connections weigh more than fairness?
♤ Bail Conditions: The Silent Barrier
Bail was reportedly granted, but under such stringent conditions that it might as well have been refused. High financial bonds, multiple sureties of a certain professional or social standing, these are not designed for justice but for exclusion.
In Nigeria, bail is supposed to be a constitutional right in non-capital offences. The Constitution, in Section 36, guarantees the presumption of innocence. But when bail terms are set beyond the financial or social reach of the accused, it becomes a tool of silent punishment.
One has to ask: Do our courts not have appointed bond persons or sureties for such cases? In other jurisdictions, court-approved guarantors exist to ensure that poverty is not the deciding factor in pre-trial liberty. Here, it appears we weaponise bail to keep certain defendants behind bars.
■ The Bigger Picture: Injustice in Disguise
This case is more than a quarrel in an airport terminal; it is a mirror reflecting systemic flaws. The Nigerian justice system still carries the stain of inequality. Who you are, whom you know, and how much you can pay often determine whether you will see the light of day before your trial.
The airport assault case reveals that our justice system can be:
□ Swift for the powerful,
■ Slow for the ordinary,
■ Silent for the marginalised, and
■ Severe for the unpopular.
Conclusion
The accused in this case may or may not be guilty, that is for a fair and competent court to decide. But what is already clear is that her right to speedy trial, fair bail, and due process has been compromised.
A justice system that enforces the law by breaking it is not a justice system at all; it is an instrument of oppression. The Nigerian courts and law enforcement agencies must remember that justice is not only about punishing the guilty, it is also about protecting the rights of the accused.
When we forget this, we are not enforcing the law, we are eroding it.
