Politics
Still On Al-Mustapha’s Death Sentence
Last Monday, Justice Mojisola Dada of the Lagos High Court sentenced Major Hamza Al-Mustapha, former Chief Security Officer (CSO) to late Head of State, Gen. Sani Abacha, to death by hanging for the 1996 murder of Alhaja Kudirat Abiola, wife of the winner of the June 12, 1993 presidential election, Chief Moshood K.O. Abiola. Sentenced alongside Al-Mustapha was Alhaji Lateef Sofolahan, an aide of Kudirat.
The case had lasted for about twelve years. Years filled with legal, judicial and political rigmarole, which has widely been viewed to have been made possible by Nigeria’s judicial system.
No doubt, the fact that the judiciary, as represented by Justice Dada, finally proclaimed a sentence, proves the saying that “justice delayed is not justice denied”, but it did not forclose the tragedy that the case lasted for such a long period.
The mere fact that others like Gen. Ishaya Bamaiyi (rtd.) and CSP Rabo Lawal, who were detained alongside Al-Mustapha, could opt for a speedy trial only gives credence to what has become apparent that the entire trial looked more like a clever ploy by the accused to delay, or even subvert justice.
On the face of it, the judiciary has not only exonerated itself from the common man’s belief that it is incapable of calling the mighty (or once mighty) in our society to order, but has also stated in no mean terms that anyone who commits heinous crime (including those done in the guise of serving the state) will eventually pay for it. It is also indicative that it will amount to arrant foolishness on the part of a criminal to imagine that he could wear out that court with the hope of escaping justice.
For these reasons, and more specifically, the judiciary’s patience, focus and candour in what could unarguably be christened a merry-go-round trial obviously created by the defence, the judiciary, particularly in Lagos, deserves some level of accolade.
However, in better organised societies, such case as the assassination of Kudirat Abiola would have been an open and shut one in which the accused would be given ample opportunity to prove their innocence, and justice would be metted out without undue delay.
The implication is that it is now time for the Nigerian judiciary to sit back and examine how justice could be dispensed much more speedily in the face of apparent but conscious obstacles likely to be put up by the defence.
Without prejudice to the final outcome of the case, following Al-Mustapha’s appeal last Tuesday, another journey in to desert island may not do well to the image of the judiciary, moreso, as it will be coming on the heels of a twelve month journey through similar route.
As indicated earlier, this case is not just for Al-Mustapha, who, backed by a dictatorial military government, took impunity to the level that made everything else, including human lives, nonsense. It is a message to some of our current politicians, who are wont to toe the same line of impunity; who feel more comfortable when their word becomes law, even in a democratic dispensation.
It may, therefore, be pertinent to remind our politicians, perhaps for the umpteenth time, that democracy is all about majority, and that no one can be so powerful that he becomes untouchable.
Like some public office holders today, Al-Mustapha, in his rampage on inhuman toga, must have thought he was too powerful to be touched, and his office too important to be probed on the grounds of national security.
As a democratic state, Nigeria has signed, sealed and delivered its determination to uphold the rule of law in its entirety. This is why it is most pertinent for every body, particularly those in authority, to note that the Judiciary should be sacrosanct; that for Nigeria to be regarded as a civilised country in the commity of nations, its inhabitants must get the message that no matter how long justice is delayed, they will one day be called to account for their actions.
Perhaps if Al-Mustapha had known when he was rolling in the hay as a supremo that what has befallen him today was waiting far him, he would have had a rethink on some of his actions.
Unfortunately, (or fortunately) for Al-Mustapha, the history of Nigeria’s quest for democracy will not be complete without mention made of him, though his was a military regime. This is why the Nigerian State, as portrayed by its leadership, cannot be so reckless in leadership as to warrant the military to consider a cameback to governance.
Let us, as Nigerians, not forget that the Al-Mustapha scenario was made possible by the impunity of Military rule, which cancelled the first most valid election in the country, and gave birth to the illegality that led to the despotic Abacha junta that produced Al-Mustapha’s “strike Force”, which terrorized Nigerians and took Nigeria to its lowest ebb, using Abacha’s shield.
The key question for current Nigerian leaders is how they want their names written in the big book of Nigeria’s turbulent journey from creation, knowing that if their names are not written in the good part of the book, some day nemesis can catch up with them.