In Nigeria today, it seems that wealthy individuals rarely serve their prison sentences within the confines of actual prison walls. This has become a norm that many Nigerians, including myself, witness daily. What is deemed impossible in other parts of the world is often seen as ordinary in our country.
Throughout my life, both at home and abroad, I have had the privilege of serving my fatherland. I have observed many things in the geopolitical landscape of Nigeria. We have been told by Western nations that democracy is the best system of government, but for Africa, democracy has often felt like a curse rather than a blessing.
During the military regimes, particularly in the South-West of Nigeria, my face became well-known among military ranks. I appreciated the discipline and dedication to safeguarding the country that the military demonstrated, especially compared to the corruption and lack of patriotism we see in politicians today. The military was responsible for constructing major roads, airports, and bridges—many of the country’s assets were built under military rule. In contrast, under this democratic regime, the rule of law has deteriorated, and many once-dedicated civil servants have been replaced by individuals more interested in self-serving goals than in serving the nation.
I know many retired military officers who served Nigeria honorably during those regimes, and it pains them to see the direction the country is heading. It’s a sad reality that our national symbols, such as the Nigerian flag and military uniform, have been reduced to mere cloth, losing the respect they once commanded. The politicians currently in power seem to lack both proper upbringing and a sense of moral responsibility. They place material wealth above national pride and duty.
In the past, members of state security agencies were discreet, and even their families often didn’t know their roles, which made intelligence gathering easier and kept the country secure. Sadly, this level of professionalism has disappeared. Prisons have been broken into on multiple occasions, and dangerous criminals have escaped with the help of those entrusted with keeping them locked up. In most cases, no one takes responsibility. Ministers remain in office, and prison heads are not held accountable for such serious breaches of national security. Nigerians want their country to be like China, but they aren’t willing to adopt the discipline and work ethic that has driven China’s success.
I remember a specific incident in 1997 when Col. Frank Omenka received intelligence that a military officer, sentenced to seven years in Kirikiri Maximum Prison, was spotted at his private residence in Magodo. Omenka didn’t rush into action. Instead, he organized covert surveillance on the officer’s home. The outcome was astonishing. Not only was the convicted officer living in comfort at home, but further investigation revealed that many high-profile convicts were also residing outside the prison, far away from Kirikiri.
In one case, a convict was traced to his luxurious home in Rayfield, Jos—hundreds of kilometers away from the prison. A carefully devised strategy led to the re-arrest of 19 convicts in Lagos, Ibadan, Abeokuta, and Jos, all enjoying freedom far from the prison walls. Investigations revealed deep-rooted corruption within the prison system, implicating nearly all senior prison staff, including the top leadership. Many were arrested and later dismissed by the Head of State, the late Gen. Sani Abacha.
The recent case of Bobrisky mirrors what happened in 1997, but this time, the corruption seems even more brazen. Convicts are reportedly housed in luxury apartments near the prison instead of serving time. The suspension of a few prison staff in the wake of this scandal is laughable. From my experience, the entire top hierarchy of the prison service is often complicit. The system is structured in such a way that it is impossible for a convict to enjoy such privileges without the knowledge and cooperation of those at the very top. These officials benefit financially, receiving millions in cash, land, or vehicles in exchange for allowing high-profile convicts to live in comfort.
If we are to prevent this from happening again, sanctions must be fair and comprehensive. We must stop selective punishment and hold everyone involved accountable. Only then can we restore some integrity to our justice system.
Mogaji Wole Arisekola writes from Ibadan.
