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#EndSARS, #FreeNnamdiKanu: Lessons and Challenges
#EndSARS, #FreeNnamdiKanu: Lessons and Challenges
Coinciding with the fifth anniversary of the #EndSARS protests, many youths trooped out in Abuja last week to protest the continued incarceration of Nnamdi Kanu, the leader of the proscribed Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB). Despite the court order procured by the Police to limit the protest, youths still trooped out in huge numbers. The Police quelled the demonstrations, allegedly utilising excessive force and arrested some of the protesters, including one of Nnamdi Kanu’s Lawyers, Aloy Ejimakor. While many believe that Nnamdi Kanu should answer for the heinous crimes he and his group are alleged to have committed, others are of the view that his continuous detention is discriminatory and politically motivated, and keeping him locked up ‘sine die’ won’t make for peaceful resolution of issues. Those in support of Nnamdi Kanu’s release, organised a protest to coincide with the fifth anniversary of the October 2020 #EndSARS Protests. Some of them ended up being arrested by the Police, others, brutalised. Going by how the #FreeNnamdiKanu protest played out, questions are being asked by the public, whether any lessons were learned by Government and law enforcement agencies on how to handle protests, and if there have been any positive outcomes, whether in terms of Police reform or the benefit of citizens. Samson Itodo, Okechukwu Nwanguma and Emmanuel Onwubiko express their opinions on these issues in this discourse
Lekki to Kanu: Unlearned Lessons in a Nation Still Searching for Justice
Samson Itodo
Based on recent protest trends, the month of October is gradually emerging as Nigeria’s month of protests and civic activism. October 2025 marks the fifth anniversary of the #EndSARS protest, the first anniversary of the #EndBadGovernance protest, and this year has been heralded with the #FreeNnamdiKanu protest, a clamour for the release of Mazi Nnamdi Kanu who has been in detention despite a retinue of court orders directing his release. These protests are coming against the background of State repression, shrinking civic space and State capture of accountability institutions. The response of State authorities to the protests epitomises the crisis of political injustice, and they reinforce the urgent need for the Nigerian State to adhere to its human rights obligations enshrined in Chapter IV of the 1999 Constitution and international norms and standards. It would seem that dissent, and democratic expression are increasingly criminalised, especially when such dissent is expressed against the unjust and arbitrary exercise of State power.
Did the Protest Achieve its Set Objective?
The protesters were unequivocally clear with their demand – Free Nnamdi Kanu and respect subsisting orders of court directing his release. The Government has ignored these orders, and he continues to remain in detention in the Department of State Services since his extradition from Kenya in 2021.
In response to the protest, the Government secured a court order to restrict the locations of the protests and prevent the protesters from approaching the presidential villa, the planned destination for the protests. The Government also deployed heavy security, to disrupt and demobilise the protesters. Key leaders of the protests, including Mr Kanu’s brother and Lawyer were arrested and remanded in the Kuje prison. The teargassing of the protesters and arrests, were reminiscent of the brutality that signposted the #EndSARS protests five years ago.
A new twist also emerged with Nnamdi Kanu’s trial. He was reported to have sacked his Lawyers, and sought to represent himself and Omoyele Sowore, one of conveners of the protests was arrested in the court premises a day after the protests, for alleged violation of a court order restricting the protests to certain parameters of the FCT.
Going by this metric, the demands of the protesters were not achieved. But, that does not connote that the protest was unsuccessful. Assessing the effectiveness of protests as a tool of democratic expression by focusing on the policy outcome, could reduce or oversimplify public protests. In fact, it presents an incomplete picture of the power of protest as a tool for galvanising, articulating and amplifying public discontent. Recent protests in the global south demonstrate how citizens, especially young people, have turned to the streets and online platforms as an arena of political contention in direct response to democratic erosion. Street and online protests have become a primary means for engaging political elites, reclaiming power, and holding leaders accountable. The protests reflect widespread public discontent and demonstrate the resilience of citizens in challenging authoritarianism and resisting democratic decline. Despite brute force and political repression by State authorities to suppress dissent, citizens’ resilience and persistence continue to fuel protests and the demand for a new social compact.
In this instance case, the protests succeeded in highlighting the political cost of the continued detention of Kanu and the disregard for the rule of law. The defiance expressed by the protesters, represent the courage and resilience that makes democracy deliver for the people. It sends a message to the political class that citizens are not docile and despondent, to the extent they tolerate every ounce political oppression and lack of institutional accountability. The posture of the Government to ignore court orders weakens the rule of law, and this could breed public resentment, and the consequences are too dire for the Nigerian State to handle, in view of the recent developments in the subregion and the alleged/rumoured coup plot that hit the public space this month.
Additionally, aside from renewing public debate on the issue, it galvanised citizens and fostered cross-ethnic solidarity. Traffic and normal businesses were disrupted in Abuja and the South East on the day of the protest, due to heavy security deployment. The US mission in Nigeria closed down its Embassy on the protest day, and its staff deferred to remote work. The frustrations with Government’s response catalysed solidarity amongst Nigerians, who started viewing the unending trial as pernicious political victimisation.
Did the Police (and Security Forces) Use Excessive Force to Quell the Protests?
There is overwhelming evidence that the security agencies used excessive force, to demobilise the protests. The pattern is similar to the Lekki Toll Gate incident, that was being commemorated that same day. It was a sad reminder that Nigerian security forces didn’t learn much from the #EndSARS tragedy. Sowore says that, the response was immediate and disproportionate. About ten trucks full of security personnel, including police, military, and civil defence workers, showed up at the protest site at Transcorp Hilton not long after the protesters got there. Without warning, or provocation, and despite the protesters stated peaceful intentions, security forces allegedly opened fire with live ammunition and tear gas canisters.
Using excessive force against unarmed protesters peacefully exercising their constitutional rights, is a clear violation of both domestic law and international standards for policing protests. The Constitution of Nigeria protects the rights to free speech, peaceful assembly, and protest. International human rights standards, such as the UN Basic Principles on the Use of Force and Firearms by Law Enforcement Officials, say that brute force should only be used as a last resort, when there is an immediate threat to life. There was no such threat from the protest, on October 20. The protesters were not armed, they were well-behaved, and had promised to be peaceful in public. But, security forces used what are basically battlefield tactics, against civilians who were taking part in a democratic venture.
In addition to the violence, security forces arrested some of the protesters. It was reported that Kanu’s younger brother and his Lawyer, Aloy Ejimakor, were beaten before being taken to the FCT Police Command. There were also reports that journalists covering the event, were harassed and arrested. This is reprehensible and unacceptable, given the critical role of press freedom in democratic societies. The heavy security presence throughout Abuja, represented excessive and intimidating deployment. Citywide traffic jams happened when major roads, like Shehu Shagari Way, were blocked off. Access points to the Three Arms Zone, the National Assembly, the Federal Secretariat, and the Presidential Villa were all locked down with a lot of force. Eagle Square and Unity Fountain, were turned into virtual military zones. This militarisation of public spaces, which was supposedly meant to stop a peaceful march, made it clear that the Nigerian Government is afraid of its own people and will use all its power to suppress dissent.
It is disappointing that five years after security forces allegedly shot peaceful protesters at Lekki Toll Gate, killing or injuring many people and traumatising others, similar methods are still being deployed to quell public protests. The Lagos incident with Opeyemi Adamolekun, Executive Director of Enough is Enough, who tried to lay flowers at Lekki Toll Gate to honour the victims of #EndSARS, may have been the most telling. Security guards stopped her from doing this simple symbolic act, because they were afraid of even flowers. This pattern shows that the Government sees peaceful protests, not as a way for people to express their opinions, but as a threat to their lives. There is no way to justify the excessive force used against Free Kanu protesters, by saying it was for security or public order reasons. It is a form of systematic intimidation meant to discourage people from getting involved in politics, and make State violence against dissent seem normal.
Both Nigerian and international law say that force must be necessary, appropriate, and gradual. Before using physical force, security forces should try all other options first. Any force used, must be the least amount needed to achieve legitimate law enforcement goals. The response on October 20, did not pass any of these tests. Also, the Government got a questionable court order that limited protests in some parts of Abuja. This raises questions about the independence of the courts, and the use of courts to violate constitutional rights. Even if the order was valid, it didn’t allow Police to use violence to break up protests, or justify the use of live ammunition. When the Police or security forces deploy brute or excessive force to quell people’s protest, it delegitimises the Police as an institution of public protection.
Lesson Not Learned
Five years after #EndSARS, Nigeria faces a sobering truth: the fundamental issues that sparked that movement remain unresolved. State violence against protesters continues unabated. For President Tinubu, the Kanu situation presents both challenge and opportunity. His recent pardon of 175 convicted criminals, including many guilty of serious offences, raises the obvious question: why not Kanu, who was cleared by an appellate court? It’s clear that the morals don’t match up. But, cynically, Kanu’s release could be a political move before the 2027 elections, as it could ease tensions in the Southeast and demonstrate respect for the law.
As we remember #EndSARS and see the violent end of the Free Kanu protest, we should ask ourselves what kind of country we want Nigeria to be. One where the Government decides what is fair, where peaceful protests lead to gunfire, and where the law only applies when it is politically useful? Or one where constitutional rights matter, courts are respected, and people can ask for accountability without fear of violence from the State?
Samson Itodo, Human Rights Defender, Executive Director of Yiaga Africa
#EndSARS at Five, Free Nnamdi Kanu Protest and the Unfinished Struggle for Justice in Nigeria
Okechukwu Nwanguma
When citizens recently planned a peaceful protest in Abuja to demand the release of Nnamdi Kanu – who has remained in prolonged detention despite multiple court orders directing his release – the Nigeria Police, once again, showed its reflexive hostility to dissent.
In a move that has become all too familiar, the Police hurriedly approached a High Court and obtained an ex-parte order restricting protests in certain parts of the city – especially the areas reserved for the powerful and privileged. Even though that order was never served on the protesters, the Police preemptively blocked key roads, fired tear gas at peaceful demonstrators, and unleashed chaos on ordinary citizens.
This episode exposes a disturbing truth: Nigeria’s courts have become convenient instruments for the executive to validate illegality and suppress dissent. The Police, rather than upholding the law, now act as an extension of political power – protecting authority, not citizens.
The irony is painful. Five years after young Nigerians risked everything to demand an end to Police brutality, the same Force continues to use excessive force against citizens exercising their constitutional right to protest.
From #EndSARS to “Free Nnamdi Kanu”: The Cycle of Repression
October 2020 was a defining moment, in Nigeria’s democratic journey. The #EndSARS protests united a generation around a simple demand: End Police brutality and reform the Police. The Government’s response was cosmetic. SARS was disbanded, but SWAT emerged almost immediately – old wine in a new bottle.
The protests, initially peaceful, were met with violence. The tragic events at the Lekki Tollgate remain a scar on the nation’s conscience. Five years later, nothing has fundamentally changed. The same patterns of abuse, extortion, and impunity persist.
The violent response to the Free Nnamdi Kanu protest shows that the lessons of #EndSARS were never learned. Instead of reform, we have seen a regression – where peaceful dissent is criminalised, and courtrooms are used to silence citizens.
Why Police Reform Keeps Failing
Nigeria’s failure to reform its Police, is not due to a lack of ideas or laws. The Police Act 2020, enacted one month before #EndSARS, promised a people-centred Police service anchored on accountability and respect for human rights. On paper, it was historic. In practice, it remains largely ignored.
Political interference continues to define leadership appointments, favouring loyalty over competence. Chronic underfunding and corruption sustain a system, where Officers depend on complainants and suspects to fund investigations. Recruitment is compromised by bribery and patronage, while oversight bodies like the Police Service Commission (PSC) and the Complaints Response Unit (CRU), lack independence and resources.
Police welfare remains deplorable – poor pay, collapsing barracks, no healthcare or psychological support. A demoralised and impoverished officer, cannot embody professionalism or integrity.
Justice for Victims: Still Elusive
The judicial panels set up after #EndSARS heard heart-wrenching testimonies of torture, extortion, and extrajudicial killings. Some recommended compensation and prosecution, but, five years later, very few have been implemented.
Victims’ families still wait for justice, while perpetrators continue to serve – and sometimes get promoted. This sustained failure deepens public mistrust, and violates Nigeria’s obligations under international human rights law.
A Policing System Stuck in the Past
The problem goes deeper than rogue officers or bad leadership. It is structural. Nigeria’s Police was created by colonial authorities as a Force of control, not service – a tool to enforce order, not justice. That legacy endures.
Despite constitutional promises, the Police still see themselves as rulers, not servants of the people. Citizens, in turn, view them with fear, not trust. This mutual hostility erodes public safety, and weakens democracy.
What Must Change
Nigeria Police does not need another rebranding, or task force. The path to genuine reform is already clear:
1. Implement the Police Act 2020 – fully and faithfully.
2. Ensure merit-based recruitment and leadership appointments.
3. Improve Police Welfare – housing, healthcare, and fair pay are rights, not privileges.
4. Strengthen accountability bodies – give the PSC and CRU real independence and resources.
5. Respect citizens’ rights to peaceful protest – Democracy cannot thrive where dissent is criminalised.
The Unfinished Struggle
The Free Nnamdi Kanu protest was more than a demand for one man’s release; it was a demand for the rule of law and respect for citizens’ rights. The Police response was a grim reminder that the spirit of #EndSARS remains alive – because the injustices that birthed it, persist.
Five years on, Nigeria still stands at a crossroads. It can continue on the path of repression and hypocrisy, or it can choose accountability and reform.
The message remains clear: Nigeria does not need new slogans or uniforms. It needs justice, accountability, and political will. Until that happens, #EndSARS will remain an unfinished struggle and a haunting reminder of a nation still at war with its own citizens.
Criminalising Protest Undermines Democracy
The Rule of Law and Accountability Advocacy Centre (RULAAC) therefore, condemns in strong terms the arrest of human rights activist, Omoyele Sowore, and several other peaceful protesters by the Nigeria Police Force during the recent Free Nnamdi Kanu protest in Abuja.
According to the Police, the protesters were arrested for allegedly violating a court order restricting protests in certain areas of Abuja. The Police spokesperson, CSP Benjamin Hundeyin, claimed that Sowore “led the protesters into a restricted area”, describing his arrest as an act of “fair play”.
RULAAC considers this justification, both troubling and legally untenable. The right to peaceful assembly and expression is guaranteed by Sections 39 and 40 of the 1999 Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria (as amended), and reinforced by Articles 9, 10, and 11 of the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights (Ratification and Enforcement) Act – now part of Nigerian law. These rights cannot be suspended or overridden by any administrative or judicial order, inconsistent with the Constitution.
It is ironic and hypocritical that the same Nigeria Police and Government that routinely flout valid court orders – such as those directing the release of Nnamdi Kanu or awarding compensation to victims of human-rights violations – now hide under the cover of a court order to suppress a constitutionally protected peaceful protest. Selective obedience to court orders undermines both the rule of law, and public confidence in the justice system.
Peaceful protest, is not a crime. It is a legitimate democratic tool, for citizens to express dissent and demand accountability. Criminalising protest or targeting human rights defenders like Sowore for exercising or facilitating constitutionally guaranteed freedoms, is a dangerous step toward authoritarianism.
RULAAC calls on the Nigeria Police Force to immediately and unconditionally release all arrested protesters, and to desist from actions that violate citizens’ rights to freedom of expression, assembly, and association. We also urge the Judiciary to resist being used as an instrument for the suppression of civil liberties.
Nigeria cannot claim to be a democracy, while it continues to punish citizens for demanding justice and compliance with the rule of law.
Okechukwu Nwanguma, Executive Director, Rule of Law and Accountability Advocacy Centre (RULAAC)
The Nexus Between #Free Nnamdi Kanu’s Protests and #EndSARS
Emmanuel Nnadozie Onwubiko
“Democracy is a poor system; the only thing that can be said for it is that, it’s eight times as good as any other method. It’s worst fault is that it’s leaders reflect their constituents – low level, but, what can you expect.?” – Robert A. Heinlein.
Introduction
On October 20, 2025, Nigerians who took to the streets to demand the release of Nnamdi Kanu; and to remember the unfinished business of #EndSARS five years after a movement that shook the nation, found themselves confronting a familiar and grim choreography: peaceful assembly met with the instruments of force. What began as a surge of civic memory and a plea for justice, quickly became another painful reminder that the promise of reform has been more rhetorical than real. My purpose in this piece is not merely to rehearse the day’s chaos; it is to interrogate the political logic that produced it, to ask whether the protest achieved its aims, and to weigh the State’s response, against the benchmarks of restraint and the rule of law.
Free Nnamdi Kanu Demonstrations
The Free Nnamdi Kanu demonstrations of October 20, were not isolated acts of agitation. They were a convergence of two national wounds: the fallouts from the #EndSARS uprising of October 2020, and the ongoing contestations over the detention and prosecution of Mazi Nnamdi Kanu, the leader of the proscribed Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB). For many in the Southeast and beyond, Kanu symbolises a grievance that refuses to disappear; a perception that the State wields criminal law selectively, and that some political prisoners are punished for the ideas they embody, rather than unlawful acts they committed. For others, the spectre of secession is a security threat that must be contained. Into this combustible mix the fifth anniversary of #EndSARS poured fresh fuel: families of those killed in 2020 still seek accountability, and a generation that once believed in the transformative potential of protest has watched promises dry up into reports and investigations that have led to few consequences. The combination made October 20 less a protest than an insistence that the state confront its own unresolved violence.
Did the protest achieve its set objective; the immediate and unconditional release of Nnamdi Kanu, or at least a substantive shift in public pressure, strong enough to move the music of power? The short answer is no. Courts continued their business; the criminal process against Kanu advanced; and within days, the State was pursuing organisers and participants in court. Arrests were made, including high-profile detentions reported at courts and protest sites, and the Police have filed suits against organisers, alleging offences ranging from criminal conspiracy to disturbing public peace. Those outcomes point to an immediate failure, if the metric is the literal release of a detainee.
But, to measure the protest only by the immediate output is to misunderstand the rhythms of democratic pressure, in a polity where institutions are slow and levers of power are jealously guarded. Protests, especially those aimed at political prisoners, rarely deliver instant legal outcomes. They aim to change the political temperature, to focus attention domestically and internationally, and to build networks of solidarity that can alter the calculus over time. By that broader measure, the protests did force a national conversation back onto the front pages and court dockets, drawing in civil society, some media organs, and foreign missions issuing security alerts. Whether that conversation translates into concrete legal or policy gains, remains to be seen.
But, technique matters as much as ends. The organisers (a motley coalition of activists, human rights advocates, and citizens sympathetic to Kanu’s plight) sought to tap the moral clarity that animated #EndSARS: the insistence that the State be held accountable, and that justice be more than a slogan. The symbolism of staging this demand on the fifth anniversary of #EndSARS, had an elegiac force. It was as if the country was being asked to read one long sentence; sentence that opens with “remember” and ends with “act”. Yet, the State, rather than engaging that sentence, chose to silence it with teargas, water cannons, and forceful dispersal in several cities. Reports from Abuja and other centres show Police deploying teargas and armoured vehicles, blocking major roads and arresting demonstrators, journalists and even some Lawyers who had come to observe or support the protests. Where the State treated the protests as a security threat rather than a civic demand, it ceded the moral high ground to protestors and revived old grievances about the criminalisation of dissent.
The question of whether the Police used excessive force, is not merely semantic; it is the hinge on which the legitimacy of both protest and State response turns. International human-rights standards permit the policing of assemblies to prevent violence and protect public order, but, they require force to be necessary, proportionate, and a last resort. Video footage and eyewitness accounts from the October 20 gatherings, indicate that teargas and water cannons were used in densely packed civilian spaces, that journalists were caught up in the clamps, and that some demonstrators reported bullets being fired. If live ammunition was discharged at a protest where the majority were singing, carrying flags, and asserting demands, then the deployment of such force would be difficult to defend as proportionate. Even the use of teargas inside congested urban settings (with vulnerable bystanders, the elderly and children present), risks more harm than the preservation of public order. The Police insist they acted to prevent a breach of the peace and to enforce court orders; the protesters and many human-rights groups say the response was heavy-handed and vindictive, betraying a pattern of using force to suppress legitimate civic expression, rather than to protect life. That tension is precisely what renders the State’s approach, both legally and politically hazardous.
Beyond the immediate tactics, we must confront the broader systemic failure that allows such a standoff to repeat itself. Five years after a mass movement that demanded sweeping reform of policing, the State apparatus has not delivered meaningful accountability. Families of those killed in 2020 continue to wait for justice; internal investigations have produced reports and recommendations that evaporate into institutional inertia. The same Police formations that were accused of brutality in 2020, are today deployed to disperse protestors in 2025. When institutions tasked with upholding rights are themselves the instruments of rights violations, the citizenry’s recourse narrows to protest, litigation and international appeals. None of these remedies, are substitutes for an internal cultural and structural reform of security agencies; the kind of reform that requires political will, sustained oversight, and the courage to discipline errant officers. The repeated resort to force, is symptomatic of a State that has not internalised the civic learning moment of 2020.
Consider also how the law is weaponised, in these conflicts. The charges arrayed against Kanu (and the State’s invocation of terrorism legislation), transform what might be political speech and agitation into crimes of national security. That legal framing narrows the space for dissent, and justifies a securitised response. When the Police then profile those who march for Kanu as conspirators or as inciters of public disorder, they make legal proceedings themselves an extension of the political contest. Courts become arenas where the state’s narrative is pressed, and defendants must navigate an uneven terrain where public sympathy and judicial procedure do not always align. Recent filings and remands in courts against organisers and participants reveal this dynamic: charges that were once the province of criminal law are now deployed as deterrence against political mobilisation. The longer-term consequence is chilling: citizens may learn that protest carries a cost, not only in teargas and arrests, but in prosecutorial attention and potential criminal records.
The media’s role, meanwhile, was telling. Journalists covering the demonstrations reported arrests and rough treatment; some had equipment seized, or were prevented from recording events. When the press is impeded in this way, the public’s right to know is curtailed, and the very accountability that protest seeks, is undermined. The memory of DJ Switch’s livestream five years ago, remains a potent example: live reporting can puncture official denials, and create an evidentiary record that compels investigation. The State’s heavy-handedness towards journalists in 2025, risks replicating the erasure of truth that many Nigerians fought to reveal in 2020. That pursuit of transparency is not a luxury — it is a democratic necessity.
What does responsible civic action look like, in this fraught context? For organisers, prudence does not mean timidity. It means planning protests that minimise risk to bystanders, coordinating with independent observers, notifying authorities to reduce friction, and preparing legal support for arrested participants. For the State, responsibility means resisting the reflex to securitise dissent, investing in public order capabilities that respect human rights, and allowing avenues for political expression, even when unpopular. Most of all, it means taking public grievances seriously: prosecuting credible allegations of State violence, implementing the recommendations of credible inquiries, and engaging in dialogue with dissenting voices. Without those changes, every anniversary of #EndSARS risks becoming another flashpoint, another set of families who will wait yet another year for answers that never come.
As a human rights activist and a journalist, I do not romanticise protest. I recognise its limits and its hazards. But, I know too that in a polity where the instruments of accountability are weak, protest remains an essential corrective. The Free Nnamdi Kanu demonstrations did not secure immediate legal victory; they did, however, perform a societal function; they reminded the nation and the world that the questions raised in 2020 about State violence, accountability and selective justice have not been answered. To dismiss those demonstrations as mere lawlessness, is to refuse the moral labour that civic life requires.
Going Forward
What must happen next, is both procedural and political. The courts must be allowed to run their course, with full respect for due process; if the State believes it has a strong case, let it present its evidence transparently, and let the defence respond without intimidation. Simultaneously, the Police and other security actors must be subjected to scrutiny, for their conduct on October 20 and in the years since #EndSARS. Independent probes, with the power to make findings and recommend sanctions, are non-negotiable if trust is to be rebuilt. Civil society must insist on these instruments of accountability, and international partners should support mechanisms that are locally led, but, internationally credible.
In defining the balance between order and liberty, Nigeria stands at a crossroads. The State’s resort to teargas and arrests as the primary answer to civic demands, is a short-term tactic that deepens the long-term crisis. Conversely, a robust, rights-respecting approach to protests (one that protects lives, allows expression, and disciplines abuse), can convert moments of rupture into opportunities for reform. If the fifth anniversary of #EndSARS taught us anything, it was that Nigerians will not be placated by platitudes. They will measure words against deeds. The test now is whether the Government will respond with genuine reform, or repeat the pattern of repression that breeds the next confrontation.
Conclusion
I close with a practical imperative: those who govern must remember that legitimacy is not a permanent endowment; it is an earned trust that must be replenished daily. Arresting activists, journalists and protesters may suppress a demonstration, but it cannot silence the questions that created it. The only path to durable peace and order is through justice; justice that is seen to be done, anchored in law, and delivered without fear or favour. Until that occurs, Nigerians will have every reason to return to the streets, to demand what is owed them: truth, accountability, and the right to civic life unmarred by State violence.
The Nigeria Police as currently constituted, is at its lowest level ethically. First and foremost, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu violated the Federal Civil Service law and the Constitution to unilaterally extend the service years of the Inspector-General of Police, Mr Kayode Egbetokun, who clocked 60 years two years ago and according to the extant federal civil service law, he ought to have gone back home as a retiree. However, Tinubu breached every employment law by extending the tenure of the head of the Police, whose operatives under his watch have become more incompetent, inefficient, ineffective and grossly corrupt. Tinubu, through his Federal Attorney-General, got the weak National Assembly to amend the Police Act of 2020, and got it retroactively applied to benefit Egbetokun who was the chief security officer to Tinubu during his eight years in Lagos state as Governor. So, we now have a Police Force that is absolutely unqualified to be regarded as reform minded.
In effect, the core reasons for the #EndSARS protests have not been achieved, because due to gross indiscipline and lack of professionalism, the Police still massively engage in flagrant human rights violations, extrajudicial killings of detainees, and brutality against citizens.
Emmanuel Nnadozie Onwubiko, Founder, Human Rights Writers Association of Nigeria (HURIWA); Past National Commissioner, National Human Rights Commission of Nigeria
Coinciding with the fifth anniversary of the #EndSARS protests, many youths trooped out in Abuja last week to protest the continued incarceration of Nnamdi Kanu, the leader of the proscribed
