Opinion

Towards Nigerian Prisons Reform

Published

11 years ago

June 27, 2014

The on-going National
Conference has adopted some far-reaching resolutions that if implemented would go a long way to address some of the problems weighing the country down.
From the recommendation of death penalty for the rape of minors; life jail for rape of women; imprisonment for corrupt judges and many more, initial fears that the conference was a charade and waste of time is being dispelled.
No doubt, every sector of the country needs attention, particularly the prison sector which has equally been deliberated upon by the conference.
According to the recommendation of the committee on Law Human Rights and Legal Reforms, there should be total reform of the prisons in the country which includes that pregnant women or nursing mothers should be allowed to deliver and nurse their babies for two years before serving their sentences in prison.
A regular visitor to Nigerian prisons will appreciate the importance of this resolution. In almost all the female prisons, the number of pregnant women and nursing mothers is over whelming and the number tends to soar with every visit. Some of these women who probably came to the prison at the early stages of their pregnancies are made to carry their full pregnancy term in prison and have their babies born and nursed in prison yard meant for common criminals.
One had often considered what the authorities thought of the rights of these innocent children, being incarcerated along with their mothers. Article 6 of the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child provides that all government shall recognize that every child has the inherent right to life and shall ensure the survival and development of the child. Sections 4, 14 and 17 of the Child’s Right Act 2003 provide for the child’s right to survival and development, to parental care, and for the right of the unborn to protection against harm respectively.
It therefore goes without saying that there is no way the protection of a child’s life will be guaranteed in a prison, moreso in Nigerian prison. Prisons all over the world are set up by law to provide restraint and custody of individuals accused or convicted for crime by the state. Like many others, Nigerian Prison Service is charged with the responsibility of reforming prison inmates, and also protect the society from convicted fellows. It also has a duty to keep in safe custody persons legally sentenced to jail and identify the causes of their inherent anti-social behavior, treat and reform them to become law-abiding citizens. The prison has also the responsibility to train inmates in trades that will make them useful to themselves and society in general.
Incidentally, Nigerian Prisons cannot be said to have met all these objectives. It has been observed that prisons in Nigeria are incomparable to the ones in many other countries. Instead of reforming inmates, Nigerian prison system is said to be hardening them and subjecting them to horrible, degrading conditions and punishments sometimes exceeding the crimes committed, in the process, rendering inmates physically and psychologically damaged, unwanted, unloved and abandoned in an uncaring environment.
Some have noted that while prisoners in countries like UK are treated with dignity, awaiting trial inmates in Nigerian prisons are subjected to inhumane treatment and convicted prisoners denied of their fundamental rights.
Most of these prisons are characterized by over crowding, poor living conditions, inadequate facilities, poor staff morale, poor funding and many others. In 2012, members of the Senate Committee on Interior who embarked on a tour of prisons in the country were shocked by what they saw. They decried the dilapidation of the prisons, saying that they were no longer fit for human habitation. In its annual report to the senate the committee said, “a majority of the cells leak during the rains… many of the cells meant to accommodate about 150 inmates, all cramped together.’’
Records also show that most of these cells are over crowded by Awaiting Trial-Inmates(ATM). A recent report by a national daily puts the figure of ATMs in prison in the country at 34,328. Our constitution stipulates that “a person shall be tried within two months from the date of his detention.’’ This is hardly so as some people have been on detention for years without trial. The result is that the scantly available facilities are over stretched. This explains why some Nigerians serving various jail terms with the United Kingdom, rejected the recent plan to have them returned to the country to complete their terms in accordance with last year’s Prison Transfer Agreement(PTA) between Nigeria and UK.
It is therefore advisable that the National Conference should not only recommend better conditions for pregnant inmates and nursing mothers, but push for complete reformation of our prisons. The conference should persuade government to upgrade the facilities in our prisons. Nigerian prisons have to be decongested to make them habitable for offenders. To achieve this, criminal justice system should speed up the prosecution of inmates so as to minimize the number of inmates on awaiting trial. A situation in which criminal prosecutions take eternity to conclude should be discouraged. The authorities should adopts alternatives to imprisonment like community sentencing, supervision and others.
Most importantly, prisoner’s rights in its totality should be championed. Prisoners should have the right to access medical facilities, right to decent food, right to good living conditions and others. A situation where inmates take turns to sleep on the bare floor should be totally discouraged. Their human dignity should not be denied them.
There is urgent need for a massive overhaul to transform prisons in the country to correctional facilities which they are really meant to be.

Calista Ezeaku

Opinion

Tradition or idolatry? The Debate Over Nhe-Ajoku

Published

1 day ago

November 10, 2025

The Tide

Quote:“But when it becomes cloaked in mystery and secrecy, it risks breeding fear and abuse.

In the heart of Ikwerre land, nestled among the green stretches of Rivers State, lies Omerelu a community steeped in heritage and rhythm. Here, the people gather every two years for the Nhe-Ajoku, the bi-annual New Yam Festival that marks the harvest season, the renewal of gratitude, and the reaffirmation of kinship with the land. Debate It is a time when the yam, known as “the king of crops,” takes centre stage. The festival begins in joy and ends in solemnity, as the community offers thanks to the Almighty for sustenance and peace. At the climax of the celebration comes Nkwa-Nhe-Ajoku, a sacred dirge performed only by the initiated. By long-held custom, it forbids the Igbo people from witnessing it irrespective of how long they have lived among them (Omerelu people) . The dirge, performed in secrecy and deep reverence, closes both the spiritual and physical chapters of the festival.

Yet, as the years pass, questions are rising within Omerelu: what still lies at the heart of this ceremony? Has the spirit of thanksgiving been overshadowed by practices that no longer serve the wellbeing of our people? The call to abandon idle worship that is, the worship of lifeless objects or empty rituals grows louder. For many, the time has come to separate what uplifts the community from what diminishes it. Tradition, when rightly kept, preserves identity. But when it becomes cloaked in mystery and secrecy, it risks breeding fear and abuse. The dirge that once bound the people in reverence now occasionally divides them by secrecy. To the devout Christian, the festival’s spiritual dimension raises moral questions. Can thanksgiving to God be mixed with homage to carved symbols or ancestral forces? Must reverence be expressed through objects rather than through the heart?

Within Omerelu Community , elders recall that the first purpose of Nhe-Ajoku was gratitude not idol worship. It was to honour hard work, the soil, and divine providence, not to erect shrines to shadows. But today, the week that should bring peace and brotherhood sometimes ends in conflict, theft, and fear. Livestock disappear. Goats and fowls vanish in the night. Some justify it as ritual entitlement; others call it ‘fast finger’. This is where the red flag must rise. A festival of peace cannot thrive in the smoke of wrongdoing. If Nhe-Ajoku becomes an excuse for moral decay, it loses its sacredness. Let the people of Omerelu remember: a tradition that harms its own people ceases to be culture it becomes bondage. It is not the festival itself that is at fault, but the way it is practised. When men hide behind masquerades to seize property, when youths interpret freedom as license, when the dirge becomes a cover for intimidation, the festival must be re-examined.

This conversation must happen without fear or sentiment. The Ikwerre person is proud, industrious, and deeply spiritual. We need not abandon our heritage to embrace truth. Rather, we must purify it, as gold is refined by fire. To understand where we stand, it helps to look back at FESTAC ’77 the Second World Black and African Festival of Arts and Culture, held in Lagos in 1977. It was a grand showcase of African identity, heritage, and pride. For a moment, the black world united under one banner of culture and art. Yet, in hindsight, some critics raised warnings. They argued that Nigeria, in trying to celebrate culture, unconsciously revived old spiritual practices that blurred the line between art and idolatry. A respected cleric once said FESTAC ’77 “handed Nigeria over to idols,” claiming it marked the beginning of the country’s moral confusion.

Whether one agrees or not, it stands as a cautionary tale: culture without conscience can lead to chaos. So too in Omerelu, Nhe-Ajoku must not become a miniature FESTAC grand in display but hollow in purpose. The harvest must be about life, not lifeless worship. If a festival meant for peace turns into a spree of theft and intimidation, then the red flag flutters over the village square. Our elders must rise to correct this trend. Chiefs, youths, and women leaders must come together to reclaim the true essence of Nhe-Ajoku: thanksgiving, unity, and renewal. The dirge, Nkwa-Nhe-Ajoku, should retain its dignity and secrecy for those qualified, but its purpose must be explained clearly to the younger generation. Secrecy without explanation breeds suspicion and rebellion. Instead of exclusion, let there be understanding. Festivals should strengthen bonds, not stretch divisions.

Omerelu must show that tradition and modern faith can coexist, that the people can celebrate harvest without bowing to idols, can sing ancestral songs without losing moral clarity, can dance without looting. We must also redefine the meaning of worship. Worship is not about objects but obedience; not about rituals but righteousness; not about noise but truth. The younger generation watches keenly. If we hand them confusion, they will discard our culture. But if we hand them purpose, they will preserve it proudly. Let every yam harvested remind us that blessings come through toil, not through spirits or symbols. Let the sound of the drum call us to unity, not to indulgence. The red flag has been raised not to condemn Omerelu, but to caution it. The line between reverence and ruin is thin; we must tread it carefully. If we reform Nhe-Ajoku today, we will hand to our children a festival worthy of pride.

If we ignore the signs, we risk turning celebration into regret. Let’s celebrate hard work again by ensuring that our yams are from our yams, not Hausa yams. Our chickens and goats should also come from our farms. I , being a bonafide offspring of Nhe-ajoku adherence, know too well that agric (poultry fowl) and Hausa goats were never anywhere near the ‘Ajoku Shrine’, but now, the reverse is the case. The implication? People are no longer interested.However, let this year, and every year henceforth, mark a new beginning: a Nhe-Ajoku of peace, honesty, and gratitude that honours our Creator. The yam is life, but life must be pure. Let the dirge speak truth again. Let the red flag remind us when culture forgets conscience, it ceases to be culture. And when the drums of Nkwa-Nhe-Ajoku sound again in Omerelu, may they beat not for idols, but for renewal, justice, and peace.

By: King Onunwor

Opinion

Fubara’s Strategic Masterstroke

Published

1 day ago

November 10, 2025

The Tide

Quote:”What sets this administration apart is not just the volume of projects but their strategic coherence. Each road, bridge, and seaport initiative forms part of an integrated economic master plan that places Rivers State at the heart of Nigeria’s maritime future”

In the evolving narrative of Rivers State’s infrastructural transformation, Governor Siminalayi Fubara is quietly but decisively carving out a new economic roadmap—one anchored on strategic connectivity, blue economy exploration, and sustainable development. His recent inspection of the 13.5-kilometre Oyorokoto Road in Andoni and the visionary Trans-Kalabari Road project underline a bold ambition: to reposition Rivers State as the economic gateway of the Niger Delta and a key player in Nigeria’s emerging maritime economy. The Oyorokoto Road, slated for completion and commissioning in March 2026, is not just a transport corridor. It is the spine of what promises to be a thriving coastal economy. Stretching from Andoni’s popular Oyorokoto Beach to the newly discovered Atlantic beachfront, the project embodies the governor’s vision of turning Rivers State’s natural endowments into engines of growth. The road’s design is strategic—it connects land to sea, trade to tourism, and communities to opportunity.

Governor Fubara’s decision to extend the road beyond the initial Oyorokoto Beach destination speaks volumes about his forward-thinking approach. Upon discovering an expansive Atlantic beachfront with immense tourism and marine potential, the governor ordered the extension of the project—transforming it into what he aptly called “the pathway to the blue economy.” This statement encapsulates a shift in governance philosophy: from mere infrastructure delivery to economic diversification and sustainability. The blue economy, which encompasses maritime transport, fisheries, coastal tourism, and renewable energy, offers Rivers State a new frontier for wealth creation. With Oyorokoto’s proximity to the Atlantic Ocean, deep-sea exploration, aquaculture, and ocean-based tourism can thrive. Governor Fubara’s plan to develop activities around the seafront—hospitality, logistics, and marine services—will not only attract investors but also create jobs for local communities long isolated by geography and neglect.

The significance of the Oyorokoto project also lies in its symbolism. It signals a shift from oil-dependent infrastructure to climate-conscious development. The governor’s insistence on conquering difficult terrains to connect Andoni’s coastal communities underscores his administration’s commitment to inclusion and balanced growth. For decades, these communities have watched from the margins as the mainland prospered. Now, they are being woven into the state’s economic fabric. But the true genius of Fubara’s strategy emerges when viewed alongside the Trans-Kalabari Road project, a monumental undertaking designed to link several island communities in the Kalabari axis to the mainland. The first phase, which terminates at Bakana, is already being celebrated as a historic project with transformative economic implications. Beyond mere connectivity, Bakana’s deep-sea potential positions it as a future hub for maritime trade, shipbuilding, and logistics—key pillars of the blue economy.

By aligning the Trans-Kalabari and Oyorokoto projects, Governor Fubara is weaving a coastal development network that will fundamentally alter the geography of commerce in Rivers State. Once completed, these roads will not only ease movement but open up access to virgin coastlines, attract tourism, and stimulate private investment. In essence, Fubara is building corridors of prosperity across the state’s most difficult terrains. The governor’s unannounced stop at the Kalaibiama-Epellema Road in Opobo/Nkoro Local Government Area further underscores his personal commitment to follow-through. His inspection of the piling work at the Epellema bridge site reveals a hands-on leader determined to ensure that no project lingers on paper. In a region where infrastructure is often hindered by terrain and politics, Fubara’s approach reflects courage and vision in equal measure.

What sets this administration apart is not just the volume of projects but their strategic coherence. Each road, bridge, and seaport initiative forms part of an integrated economic master plan that places Rivers State at the heart of Nigeria’s maritime future. The synergy between the Trans-Kalabari and Oyorokoto corridors will create a seamless coastal belt that can support tourism, fisheries, and inter-island commerce—stimulating both rural and urban economies. Governor Fubara’s economic strategy is also deeply political in the most constructive sense. By investing heavily in long-neglected coastal communities, he is rebuilding trust in government and expanding the social contract. He understands that prosperity must be inclusive, and that true development is not measured merely in kilometers of asphalt but in livelihoods transformed. Critics may view these projects as ambitious, but ambition is the currency of progress.

Fubara’s determination to beat the terrain and deliver projects on schedule is a lesson in leadership under constraint. In the face of financial and environmental challenges, he is proving that development can be both visionary and pragmatic. The broader implication of these infrastructural moves is clear: Rivers State is transitioning from an oil-dependent economy to a diversified, ocean-driven one. The integration of deep-sea potential at Bakana, tourism assets at Oyorokoto, and bridge connectivity at Epellema points toward a strategic blueprint that could redefine the Niger Delta’s development model. As March 2026 draws closer, the Oyorokoto Road will stand not merely as a physical link between Andoni’s communities and the Atlantic but as a symbol of a government that sees beyond the present. It will represent a bridge to new possibilities—economic, social, and environmental.

In the final analysis, Governor Siminalayi Fubara’s economic masterstroke lies in his ability to turn geography into destiny. By connecting land to sea and people to prosperity, he is charting a course that could make Rivers State not just the treasure base of the nation, but the anchor of Nigeria’s blue economy in the 21st century.

Ibim is a seasoned Journalist, political analyst and public affairs commentator.

By: Amieye-ofori Ibim

Opinion

Should The Internet Go Bust

Published

1 week ago

November 3, 2025

The Tide

Quote:”. Whereas it sounds apocalyptic, yet experts have long warned that a total internet collapse, whether from cyberwarfare, global technical failure, or coordinated attacks on undersea cables, could paralyze the world far beyond imagination”

We now live in a world that so much relies on technology, especially on digital communication networks and data services. Virtually every aspect of our life depends on the efficient functioning of machines. In view of this reliance, imagine waking up to a world where the internet simply goes dark. For advanced countries where the functionality, monitoring and data storage of surveillance, security and nuclear installations, all rely on electronics and networks, the disruption could be catastrophic. On the other hand, for developing nations like Nigeria where government’s response is usually slow, the implications would be socially and economically disastrous. It would imply the sudden evaporation of all the modern conveniences we have taken for granted. No online banking. No emails. No mobile transfers. No WhatsApp messages, Twitter feeds or digital government portals.

The collapse would expose a dangerous dependency, the centralization of personal data. In Nigeria’s multi-biometric systems, the Bank Verification Number (BVN), the National Identification Number (NIN), and SIM registration for mobile networks, are all cloud-based. With no internet, access to these databases would be lost. Banks could not verify customers; telecom operators could not authenticate SIMs; and government agencies would be unable to issue new IDs or validate old ones.In Nigeria, over 80% of financial transactions now occur digitally, thanks to the rapid adoption of fintech platforms such as Opay, PalmPay, Paga, and the Central Bank Nigeria’s eNaira initiative. Assets of companies worth trillions of naira are also stored digitally and transacted on the Nigerians Stock Exchange. Like other transactions, these have no certified paper backings other than electronic storages.

It means that the wealth and wellbeing of millions now lie at the mercy of machines. According to the Nigeria Inter-Bank Settlement System (NIBSS), in 2024 alone, the value of electronic payments in Nigeria reached ?600 trillion. Whereas it sounds apocalyptic, yet experts have long warned that a total internet collapse, whether from cyberwarfare, global technical failure, or coordinated attacks on undersea cables, could paralyze the world far beyond imagination. A total internet blackout would instantly freeze the banking system as banks lose interconnectivity, making transfers, withdrawals, and payments impossible. Fintech companies would go offline, cutting off millions from access to their digital wallets, while Point-of-Sale (PoS) operators, who depend on network connections for every transaction, would be stranded.The economy would revert overnight to cash dependence.

But cash, already scarce due to the CBN’s currency redesign and digital push, would not circulate fast enough to meet demands. Markets would collapse into panic, and trust in banks could erode within hours. Modern governance in Nigeria has increasingly depended on digital infrastructure, using e-government portals to handle licensing, pension records, procurements, revenue collection and budget management. An internet collapse would send governance back to the analogue age. Ministries would lose coordination, digital files would be inaccessible and online recordkeeping systems would fail.For ordinary Nigerians, the consequences would be deeply personal. Salaries paid through electronic transfers would go into limbo. Traders on Jumia, Konga, and social media marketplaces would lose their livelihoods overnight. Health and other insurance policies that currently dependent on cloud records and telemedicine would be truncated.

Even more troubling, a prolonged blackout could corrupt or erase data stored in unsecured local servers. Without connectivity to global backups, entire records, financial histories, health data, and school records, could be lost. For millions around the globe, digital amnesia would mean loss of identity, wealth and social status. Without communication, rumours would fill the void, potentially triggering civil unrests, misinformation, or even national security crises that may lead to uprisings in many countries.In a world where WhatsApp has replaced the post office and Zoom serves as boardrooms, digital communication collapse would feel like the death of modern society. Businesses would halt meetings, journalists would lose sources, students would be cut off from online learning, and diaspora remittances and family ties would suffer. Even voice calls that depend on internet routing would be impossible.

The silence would be deafening, not just socially but economically, because communication fuels productivity. Without it, markets stall.The collapse of the internet would expose how deeply our daily survival has come to depend on invisible digital threads. If the web were to go dark tomorrow, it would not just dim our screens, it would extinguish commerce, governance, and connection itself. Already, fallouts from increasing cyber-attacks on undersea cables or satellite networks show the fragility of the situation.To preempt these eventualities, developing countries must therefore, plan to build digital resilience. Critical data should have offline backups within national borders. Banks and fintechs must maintain local intranets or satellite-based alternatives to the public web. Radios, SMS-based, and offline mesh communication networks should be installed as alternative fallback channels.

Proactive protection of key infrastructure must become a national priority, and not reactive fire-fighting. As the internet becomes the nerve centre of modern civilization, developing economies like Nigeria, which strives for inclusion and growth, should avoid being ensnared into a blind spot by rapidly digitalizing into over-dependence. And the question is not whether the internet could collapse, but whether we can survive it when it does. A society that entrusts everything to the cloud must first learn how to breathe without it.

By; Joseph Nwankwor