In Nigeria, the scales of justice are anything but balanced. While the poor languish in overcrowded prisons for petty crimes, influential figures and foreign cybercriminals often walk away with slaps on the wrist or even presidential pardons. This is not just a crisis of inequality; it’s an indictment of a judicial system that seems rigged to reward wealth, connections, and foreign passports.
A Tale of Two Sentences
In January 2025, Omodara Dada, a 26‑year‑old in Ekiti State, was sentenced to seven years in prison for stealing an Infinix Hot 8 phone (valued at ₦64,000) and ₦8,000 cash using a knife – an act legally categorized as burglary under Section 323, downgraded from an armed robbery charge. Despite being a first-time offender, he received a severe sentence that escalates the stark contrast between penalties for the poor and leniency for the privileged.
Contrast that with the case of Ramon Abbas, better known as “Hushpuppi,” the Instagram-famous Nigerian cybercriminal arrested in Dubai and convicted in the United States for laundering millions of dollars. Abbas was sentenced to 11 years in the U.S., a sentence longer than many of his Nigerian cybercrime counterparts would receive at home, where foreign scammers are often treated with surprising leniency.
In 2023, two Chinese nationals, Mr. Meng Wei Kun and Mr. Xu Kuoi, were convicted by the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) for bribing Nigerian officials. Despite the severity of the crime, attempting to compromise law enforcement, the court sentenced them to just six years or a paltry fine of ₦10 million each (less than $14,000 at the time). Both opted to pay the fine and walked free the same day.
The Data Doesn’t Lie
According to the Nigerian Correctional Service (NCoS), as of December 2024, over 70% of Nigeria’s prison population are inmates awaiting trial, most of them indigent. A 2023 report by CLEEN Foundation found that over 60% of these inmates were arrested for crimes involving less than ₦50,000 (approx. $60). Yet their trials drag on for years, with many spending more time in pretrial detention than their eventual sentence.
Meanwhile, data from the EFCC shows that between 2020 and 2023, the agency secured over 6,500 convictions, yet over 80% of these were for internet fraud cases involving young Nigerians, many of them from modest backgrounds. Foreign nationals convicted of similar crimes were far more likely to receive plea bargains, short sentences, or fines.
Presidential Pardons for the Powerful
Perhaps the most damning symbol of Nigeria’s judicial imbalance came in 2022. President Muhammadu Buhari granted presidential pardons to two former state governors convicted of corruption: Joshua Dariye of Plateau State and Jolly Nyame of Taraba State. Both had been found guilty of embezzling over ₦2 billion in public funds and were sentenced to 10 and 12 years in prison, respectively.
Yet after serving less than four years, they were released on the recommendation of the National Council of State, which includes sitting governors and former presidents, many with their own corruption baggage.
“This pardon is not just an insult to the judiciary,“ said human rights lawyer Femi Falana, “it is a signal to the political elite that corruption is not only profitable – it’s pardonable.“
The move sparked outrage, but it was hardly unique. In 2015, Diepreye Alamieyeseigha, a former Bayelsa governor and convicted money launderer, received a state pardon under President Goodluck Jonathan. Alamieyeseigha had once escaped arrest in the UK by disguising himself as a woman.
These pardons, often justified on “health grounds” or political expediency, erode faith in the rule of law and mock the countless poor Nigerians serving time for lesser crimes.
A Continent-Wide Pattern
Nigeria is not alone. In Angola, Isabel dos Santos–the billionaire daughter of former President José Eduardo dos Santos was indicted for embezzling more than $1 billion from state companies. Yet she remains at large, living between Dubai and Lisbon, protected by legal loopholes and weak enforcement.
In South Africa, former President Jacob Zuma was sentenced to 15 months for contempt of court but served less than 3 months after receiving a controversial medical parole. The country’s Constitutional Court later ruled the parole unlawful, but Zuma has still not returned to jail.
Meanwhile, in Kenya, petty offenders often receive harsher treatment. In 2023, a Nairobi court sentenced 19-year-old David Wanjohi to three years in prison for stealing maize worth less than $10. No such urgency exists when it comes to prosecuting MPs and governors linked to multimillion-dollar graft cases.
Plea Bargains for the Rich, Prison Cells for the Poor
In theory, plea bargaining is a tool to unclog Nigeria’s overloaded courts. In practice, it has become a soft-landing strategy for the powerful. In 2019, former Abia State governor Orji Uzor Kalu was convicted of stealing ₦7.6 billion and sentenced to 12 years. But less than a year later, the Supreme Court overturned his conviction on procedural grounds. The EFCC vowed to retry him. Five years later, that retrial has yet to begin.
Contrast this with the case of Ahmed Musa, a 24-year-old motorcycle rider in Kano who was jailed for five years without trial for violating curfew during COVID-19 lockdowns. He had no lawyer, no trial date, and no political backing.
“The system is designed to punish the poor and protect the elite,“ said Chidi Odinkalu, former chairman of Nigeria’s National Human Rights Commission. “Access to justice in Nigeria is transactional.“
Why This Matters
The selective application of justice corrodes public trust in institutions. It tells citizens that laws are not binding principles but negotiable privileges. It undermines anti-corruption campaigns and fuels the very culture of impunity that the judiciary is meant to combat.
When poor Nigerians are crushed for minor infractions while foreign fraudsters and local elites enjoy immunity or impunity, the rule of law becomes a farce.
Fixing the Rot
Judicial reform in Nigeria must go beyond training and digitization. It must confront the political pressures that influence sentencing. Judges who sentence poor offenders harshly while bending the rules for the rich must face disciplinary action. Legal aid must be expanded, and sentencing guidelines must be reviewed to ensure proportionality.
The African Union’s 2024 judicial integrity index ranks Nigeria 33rd out of 54 countries – worse than smaller countries like Rwanda and Botswana. Without reform, Nigeria risks entrenching a two-tier justice system: one for the poor, and another for those who can afford to escape it.
The Nigerian judiciary has a choice to make: to remain a tool of power and patronage, or to become a true pillar of justice. Until that choice is made, millions of poor Nigerians will continue to bear the burden of a system that was never designed to protect them.