When Mike Ozekhome, a renowned Senior Advocate of Nigeria, publicly blasted the nation's highest court, the Supreme Court of Nigeria, the reaction was swift and heated.
The controversy erupted after the court, on Supreme Court rulingAbuja, upheld the death sentence of Sunday Jackson, a Christian farmer from Adamawa State. Jackson had been convicted of killing Ardo Bawuro, a Fulani herdsman, in what his defenders claim was a desperate act of self‑defence.
Ozekhome, who is also representing Nnamdi Kanu—the embattled leader of the Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB)—said the decision flouted the Constitution’s guarantee that every citizen may protect themselves from mortal danger. "Expecting a man who’s just wrestled an armed intruder to flee like a frightened child is not only unrealistic; it borders on the absurd," Ozekhome told reporters in Lagos on March 9, 2025.
To grasp why the case reverberates across Nigeria, one must first understand the simmering farmer‑herder conflict that has claimed roughly 4,300 lives since 2016, according to the Centre for Human Rights Initiatives. The clashes, mainly pitting predominantly Christian farmers in the Middle Belt against largely Muslim Fulani cattle‑herders, stem from competition over land, water and grazing routes. In Adamawa alone, more than 800 villages have reported attacks in the past decade.
Legal scholars note that the existing criminal code provides a narrow self‑defence defence, requiring an imminent threat and a proportional response. Yet in rural disputes, the lines blur: herders often move livestock onto cultivated fields, sometimes armed to deter retaliation. That’s the setting in which Jackson’s encounter unfolded.
What’s striking is the decade‑long gap between the shooting and the final ruling, a delay that Ozekhome says undermines confidence in the justice system.
During a televised interview, Ozekhome outlined three core grievances:
"The judgment reads like a script written by someone who has never set foot on a farm," Ozekhome quipped, adding that the ruling could set a dangerous precedent for other rural defendants.
Human‑rights groups such as Human Rights Watch released a brief condemning the decision, noting that Nigeria hasn’t carried out an execution since 2015. "Reviving the death penalty in ambiguous self‑defence cases risks eroding the very fabric of the rule of law," the statement read.
Meanwhile, Governor Ahmad Lawan of Adamawa dismissed the outcry as “politically motivated”, insisting that the judiciary is independent. Opposition senator Simone Okwu called for a parliamentary review of the death‑penalty provision, arguing that it conflicts with Nigeria’s 1999 Constitution.
Legal analysts predict that the case will likely be taken to the African Court on Human and Peoples' Rights, where Nigeria could face pressure to amend its criminal code. Professor Chinedu Okafor of the University of Lagos noted that the Supreme Court’s narrow reading of self‑defence could “create a chilling effect for rural citizens who already feel vulnerable to herder incursions”.
On the death‑penalty front, the ruling revives a debate that has simmered since the 2015 moratorium. According to the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime, Nigeria executed 19 people between 2000 and 2015. If the Supreme Court’s stance holds, we may see a resurgence in capital punishments for crimes deemed “premeditated,” even where self‑defence claims exist.
Jackson’s legal team, led by Ozekhome, has filed a petition for a review of the Supreme Court’s decision, citing fresh evidence from a village elder who testified that Bawuro had previously threatened the Jackson family. The petition, lodged on March 12, 2025, could trigger a constitutional review at the Supreme Court or, if denied, a final appeal to the African Court.
Beyond the courtroom, the episode has reignited calls for a national dialogue on farmer‑herder relations. The Ministry of Agriculture announced a task force on April 1, 2025, aimed at establishing “regulated grazing corridors” and improving compensation mechanisms for farmers whose lands are encroached upon.
In short, the case has become a litmus test for Nigeria’s ability to balance security, human rights, and the rule of law in a country where land disputes regularly turn deadly.
The decision could make rural residents think twice before defending their property, fearing capital punishment. Legal experts warn it may embolden aggressors, worsening the already volatile farmer‑herder dynamics in the Middle Belt.
Section 48 of the Criminal Code allows a person to use reasonable force to protect themselves or their property, provided there is an imminent threat. The Supreme Court’s interpretation in this case has been criticised as too restrictive, ignoring the “reasonable belief” standard.
While the Supreme Court upheld a death sentence in this specific case, a broader reinstatement would require legislative action. International watchdogs argue that re‑introducing executions could breach Nigeria’s commitments under the ICCPR.
Ozekhome’s high‑profile criticism underscores his willingness to challenge government actions, potentially strengthening his standing in the Nnamdi Kanu defence. However, the IPOB trial proceeds on separate charges, and any spill‑over effect remains speculative.
Jackson’s counsel filed a petition for review on 12 March 2025. If the Supreme Court declines, the case may advance to the African Court on Human and Peoples’ Rights, where procedural and human‑rights arguments will be examined.
Wow this case really shows how the legal system can miss the realities on the ground – farmers defending their crops shouldn’t be facing the ultimate penalty.
It’s important to remember that self‑defence is a fundamental right, and the burden of proof should be on the state to disprove a reasonable belief of threat.
The jurisprudential misstep evident in the Supreme Court’s reasoning betrays a narrow, formalistic interpretation that neglects the doctrinal nuance of reasonable belief under Section 48 of the Criminal Code.
This drama is insane the court just threw the farmer under the bus like it’s some cheap thriller
When you look at the broader tapestry of farmer‑herder relations in Nigeria, you realize that this case is not an isolated incident but part of a long‑standing struggle over land and livelihood.
For decades, communities in the Middle Belt have faced encroachment by mobile herding groups, and the resulting tensions have often been addressed through force rather than dialogue.
The legal framework, particularly the narrow conception of self‑defence, fails to capture the lived reality of those who must protect their families and crops from armed intruders.
In many rural areas, the state’s presence is minimal, leaving locals to rely on their own means of security.
This creates a de‑facto expectation that citizens will act as judge, jury, and executor when threatened.
Consequently, the Supreme Court’s decision to reinstate the death penalty sends a chilling message to anyone considering self‑defence.
It suggests that any use of force beyond a razor‑thin threshold will be met with the harshest penalty, regardless of context.
Human‑rights advocates have long warned that such a precedent could erode trust in the judiciary and embolden aggressors.
Moreover, the procedural deficiencies highlighted by Ozekhome-undisclosed forensic evidence and a misapplied standard of “reasonable belief”-undermine the credibility of the verdict.
International law, through the ICCPR, obliges states to ensure fair trials and to limit the use of capital punishment to the most serious crimes, with strict safeguards.
By ignoring these safeguards, Nigeria risks censure from global bodies and possible referrals to the African Court on Human and Peoples’ Rights.
Locally, the decision may inflate inter‑communal animosities, as the aggrieved herders could interpret the ruling as state endorsement of violence against farmers.
Conversely, farmers may feel compelled to either retreat from defending their lands or take even more drastic measures, fearing legal reprisals.
In short, this case is a flashpoint that could either galvanize comprehensive land reform and conflict‑resolution mechanisms or deepen the cycle of violence that has claimed thousands of lives.
Honestly, the whole narrative feels like a manufactured outrage; the legal arguments are flimsy and the media loves a good drama.
Write a comment