Justice on crutches: Nyanya bombing trial drags on 11 years later

On April 14, 2014, as usual, hundreds of residents on the outskirts of Abuja headed to the popular Nyanya Bus Park to trade and commute to work or distant destinations. It started off as a normal day—until a bomb detonated, killing over 75 Nigerians and injuring at least 120 others. For many Nigerians, it was […]

On April 14, 2014, as usual, hundreds of residents on the outskirts of Abuja headed to the popular Nyanya Bus Park to trade and commute to work or distant destinations. It started off as a normal day—until a bomb detonated, killing over 75 Nigerians and injuring at least 120 others. For many Nigerians, it was the day the world ended; for others, it was when the realities of Boko Haram terror hit home.

It has been 11 years since that incident, and still, for the victims of that horrific attack and their loved ones, justice has remained elusive. Not because the suspect is still at large—the mastermind was arrested in 2014—but because the Nigerian state has continued to pursue justice with the enthusiasm of an unleashed dog trotting down the street, crossing one way to sniff at one thing and then crossing to the other side to sniff at something else.

In May this year, Justice Peter Lifu of an Abuja High Court threatened to throw out the case for lack of diligent prosecution. It wouldn’t be the first time a frustrated judge resorted to this threat to give the case a kick in the backside because the prosecution had been asleep at the wheel.

The same thing happened on November 24, 2014, when Justice Adeniyi Ademola of the Federal High Court in Abuja became fed up with the lackadaisical shuffling of the prosecution and decided to strike out a two-count charge filed by the IGP against the principal suspect. His reason? Lack of diligent prosecution.

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How is it possible that you have a person accused of committing such an odious crime, which, if carried out by a foreign country, would have been grounds for war, and twice in 11 years, the court had to warn you to sit up and prove your case against them? Why is this case dragging on for over a decade with no date for conclusion?

Since the bombing in 2014, the Nigerian authorities were quick to identify a suspect as the mastermind. Fingers pointed to British-born and educated Aminu Sadiq Ogwuche. A son of a retired Army colonel, Ogwuche served in the Nigerian Army (notably in the intelligence unit) from 2001 until 2006, when he deserted and returned to the UK. He enrolled for a degree in 2007 and dropped out in 2010 before moving to Sudan to enrol in a university there. It was in Sudan that Interpol arrested him in connection with the Nyanya bombing.

When he was extradited to Nigeria, cuffed and shackled, Nigerians were excited that at least there would be justice for the victims of those senseless deaths. Yet, since 2014, Ogwuche’s trial has become a grim reminder of what justice looks like in Nigeria. Charges were first filed, then struck out for “lack of diligent prosecution.” The police, the DSS, and the Ministry of Justice bickered over who was in charge. Courts granted adjournment after adjournment until the media and Nigerians could no longer keep up. By some counts, 97 adjournments have been recorded in this case alone.

Each of these adjournments feels like another wound for the families of the victims. Yes, a conviction would not bring back their loved ones or heal those who were brutally maimed, but the continued snail crawl of justice means that the state is not bothered to give them the dignity of justice.

By law, Ogwuche remains innocent until proven guilty. So far, that has not been the case, which means that if he walks free, whether by virtue of being proven innocent or if the case is dismissed for lack of diligent prosecution, it is within his right to sue the country for unlawful detention because a decade-long detention abuses his constitutional rights.

Following the recent threat by Judge Lifu, the prosecution this July resumed the case. One can only hope this time they see it to conclusion because it would be a massive slap in the face of the country and the victims if this case is thrown out because the prosecution can’t get its act together. This is a real possibility because this won’t be the first time a high-profile case has been bungled by this debilitating judicial culture.

In August 2023, a Federal High Court grew tired of the prosecution’s dawdling and decided to dismiss illegal firearms charges against former Central Bank Governor Godwin Emefiele for want of diligent prosecution. The same thing happened when 33 counts of corruption against former Jigawa State governor Ibrahim Saminu Turaki were struck out in October 2022 for the same reason.

In 2018, a Kogi State High Court struck out a criminal case over an alleged assassination attempt brought on behalf of Senator Dino Melaye because the prosecution failed to call witnesses after multiple adjournments. The reason? “Want of diligent prosecution,” as the judge recorded.

In the celebrated corruption case involving former Attorney General Mohammed Bello Adoke and the Malabu oil deal, the court found the prosecution’s evidence inadequate and discharged some defendants in 2024 because of the failures by prosecutors to establish prima facie cases or properly call evidence.

In several notable corruption cases, courts have struck out suits (or parts of them) where the prosecution or claimant failed to prosecute diligently. Most of these cases have involved the EFCC, and perhaps one of the most celebrated is the Halliburton corruption scandal that had the entire country excited.

This is what justice looks like in Nigeria—like a trundling granny who takes forever to arrive. It seems the prosecution is more interested in media trials than in actual justice. We have mastered the practice of arresting and parading suspects on TV, airing their “confessions” and having their guilt decided by Nigerians. But once the cameras are turned off and the media trial is over, the state immediately loses interest in diligently pursuing justice. The Ogwuche case shines a light on the cracks in our justice system.

The reasons for this are numerous. Often, the prosecutors are unprepared. Files are frequently missing, and witnesses are absent when court dates arrive. Adjournment becomes the default. This is compounded by the constant tussle between the DSS, police, and the Attorney-General’s office, who are often pulling in different directions, costing both time and resources.

While these are genuine problems that prosecutors dump on the judicial system, the system is already creaking under the weight of its own burdens. The judicial culture treats adjournments as routine, not exceptions. A serious terrorism trial can be delayed because a lawyer didn’t show up. Judges face mountains of cases with little support, resulting in a system overload that normalises the culture of delaying justice. Delay in justice is denial of justice. This is the sad truth for the victims of the Nyanya bombing.

When terrorism suspects spend a decade in limbo, citizens lose faith, and Nigeria’s international partners question our seriousness in fighting terror. If a case as notorious as the Nyanya bombing can be bungled, why should anyone believe their land dispute or fraud complaint will see the light of day?

In terrorism cases, especially, delay is dangerous. Without verdicts, there is no closure, no deterrence, no lesson. The guilty are not punished. The innocent are not freed. And the victims? Well, they don’t get closure.

We do not need more laws; we just need better justice. This must start with the immediate cessation of the culture of endless adjournments. If necessary, courts should put a limit on postponements allowed, and prosecutors who come to court unprepared should be held accountable.

Secondly, we need dedicated prosecutors who are independent and insulated from politics and inter-agency quarrels. At the same time, we need to fund the courts better, have more competent judges on the bench, improve case management, and crucially, digitally track cases to expedite trials.

Finally, there must be a system of accountability put in place to ensure compliance and professional conduct. When agencies bungle major cases, they should explain to the public, or at the very least, to the oversight committees why. Agencies must not be treated like secret cults because they are administered by public funds.

No doubt, the Nyanya bombing was one of the darkest days in Nigeria’s recent history. Eleven years on, the families of the dead still wait for justice. Aminu Sadiq Ogwuche still waits for judgment. And the Nigerian people still wait for a justice system that works. How long must we wait?

Until we fix this system, our democracy and the victims of terror in our country will remain hostage—not just to insecurity but to the very institutions meant to defend them.