Back in 2016, I was privy to a “trial” somewhere around Ikom, in Cross River state. That “court” process was indicative of where Nigeria is with respect to adjudication, and more importantly from my viewpoint, how so many people are logging out of the country.
I think it is important to give a brief description of what happened that day.
A woman, let’s call her Adidi, was accused of pilfering by her neighbour and reported to a group whom that neighbour, let’s call her Uki, considered to be the authorities. On the appointed trial date (the day after the report was lodged), Adidi was summoned by the adjudicating authorities and asked to report for trial. She refused, simply because she did not recognise the authority of that court. So, they sent people to her house and those hefty men physically brought her to the “courtroom”.
The “trial” lasted all of 30 minutes, and had a deathly simple procedure — the plaintiff, Uki, made her complaint, the defendant, Adidi, left with no other choice, retorted, Uki was then given a chance to respond to Adidi’s defence, and finally, Adidi had another chance at a rebuttal. When that was done, the three men who were sitting in judgement huddled together, and after about 15 minutes of deliberation, came to their decision. Not guilty.
Uki accepted ruling without protest, while Adidi, who had earlier refused to accept the authority of what was effectively a non-state militant court, became a convert. One more person had logged out of the Nigerian state.
I have watched such incidents in diverse locations such as Abonema (Rivers), Farin Ruwa (Nasarawa) and Tsafe (Zamfara), and the common thread to all of them is a belief that the Nigerian state cannot provide justice, so people turn to non-state actors. In truth, it is not only by screaming “Biafra” like IPOB does, that people secede from Nigeria. People also secede mentally.
It is not only by screaming “Biafra” like IPOB does, that people secede from Nigeria. People also secede mentally
Back in 2019, I read a horrifying piece by the Iranian-American journalist, Azadeh Moaveni. The piece, published in the UK Guardian was titled “What would make a woman go back to Boko Haram? Despair”. You should seek it out and read it.
The plug for Moaveni’s piece is very instructive: “In north-eastern Nigeria, the militant group exploits a broken social system. There are lessons here for the rest of the world.”
The derogatorily named ‘Boko Haram women’ who after experiencing what is Nigeria’s version of resettlement and deradicalisation, wanting to return to the insurgents, should be cause for alarm. They returned to the insurgents not because they believe in the cause, but simply because, under the terrorists, life was better. Under the terrorists, they saw, for the first time, the four walls of a classroom, and under the terrorists, their children were given a chance at literacy.
If people not minding going back to Boko Haram because the Nigerian state cannot even run refugee camps properly doesn’t alarm you, then nothing else will. My organisation published a report in 2016 about those IDP camps, and all the information available to me indicate that they have gotten worse.
Back to the “trial” I talked about earlier — the most basic function of the state in my view, is not the provision of services, or infrastructure, or security. It is adjudication.
When conflict arises between members of society, as it must, then they must trust some authority to settle that conflict. For the large entities who can, contracts with Nigerian entities or the Nigerian state now have clauses that specify for dispute resolution in outside jurisdictions. Even Nigerians who have disputes with large organisations are increasingly taking their complaints to foreign courts for adjudication. In the last six months, we’ve had two major judgements against IOCs from the Netherlands and from the UK. These indicate the failure of Nigeria’s judicial system.
Using the Ikom example — Uki, who reported her neighbour to the non-state group, did not trust the nearest Customary Court to be impartial. Inadvertently, and by accepting the judgement of the militants, she won Adidi over to that way of thinking. What this means is that both of them now have an implicit trust in that set of thugs. By sitting in judgement over them, the militants will need the ability to enforce such judgements as they may pass, hence, they will by necessity have some levers of violence, and the people in their territory will cede those levers of violence to them. The implied social contract is this — you have the levers of violence, so you provide us two things, justice and security. In fulfilling that implied contract, they will raise funds, and as a result, will begin to, slowly at first, tax the people. Is it a stretch at this point to see how they will become an alternative government?
Nwanze is a partner at SBM Intelligence
