These cases are not isolated. Together, they form a pattern many Nigerians came to recognise as selective justice—swift against critics, sluggish against allies, and flexible around court orders.
If history is a mirror, then the years Abubakar Malami (SAN) spent as Nigeria’s Attorney-General (2015–2023) reflect a troubling image of justice bent by power. Nowhere is this clearer than in four interconnected arenas that shook public confidence: the prolonged persecution of Comrade Omoyele Sowore, the detention of Sheikh Ibrahim El-Zakzaky and members of the Islamic Movement in Nigeria, the intimidation of journalists, and opaque asset-recovery settlements.
These cases are not isolated. Together, they form a pattern many Nigerians came to recognise as selective justice—swift against critics, sluggish against allies, and flexible around court orders.
The detention and prosecution of Omoyele Sowore, publisher of Sahara Reporters and a political activist, became one of the most defining rule-of-law crises of the Buhari era.
Multiple courts granted Sowore bail. Multiple times, he remained in custody. On one notorious occasion, he was rearrested inside a courtroom, a spectacle that sent shockwaves through Nigeria’s legal community and drew international condemnation.
At the heart of the controversy was the Attorney-General’s office, which defended the actions of security agencies and pursued charges critics described as politically motivated. The question was never whether the state could prosecute; it was whether it could ignore court orders while doing so.
For many Nigerians, Sowore’s ordeal symbolised a justice system where obedience to courts depended on who the accused was.
Perhaps no case better illustrates institutional disregard for judicial authority than the prolonged detention of the leader of Islamic Movement, Sheikh Ibrahim El-Zakzaky and members of the Movement.
Despite court rulings ordering their release and compensation, El-Zakzaky and his wife remained in custody for years. The Ministry of Justice, under Malami, repeatedly advanced legal justifications for continued detention, even as human-rights groups accused the government of contempt of court.
This was not merely about one religious group. It raised a fundamental constitutional question: Can the executive pick which judgments to obey?
When court orders become negotiable, justice ceases to be law—it becomes policy.
Under Malami’s watch, journalists alleged sustained intimidation:
Editors of Premium Times accused the government of harassment following investigative reports implicating powerful interests.
Agba Jalingo faced prolonged detention and prosecution amid national and international outcry.
Security agencies, repeatedly accused of illegal detentions, found consistent legal backing from the Attorney-General’s office.
Rather than acting as a buffer between state power and press freedom, critics argue the Ministry of Justice became a legal shield for repression.
A democracy without a free press is a courtroom without a judge—noise without justice.
Asset recovery should be a triumph of justice. Under Malami, it became a source of controversy.
Civil society groups and anti-corruption advocates raised alarms over:
Secretive settlements.
Out-of-court forfeiture agreements.
Repatriation deals whose terms were poorly disclosed.
Allegations that some assets found their way back to politically connected individuals
The Abacha loot repatriation and oil-block settlements became symbols of a deeper problem: recovering assets without public accountability.
Justice is not only about outcomes; it is about process. When processes are hidden, suspicion thrives.
The Common Thread: Power Over Principle
Across Sowore, Islamic Movement, journalists, and asset recovery, one theme recurs:
Court orders delayed or ignored
Prosecutorial discretion exercised selectively
Transparency sacrificed for convenience
This is why many Nigerians bristle when Malami now speaks the language of justice. The irony is not personal—it is institutional.
This is not a trial. Courts exist for that. This is a record of public controversies that defined an era.
Those who once commanded justice must understand that justice has memory. Power fades. Records remain. And the same law that was bent yesterday will be demanded tomorrow.
As Nigerians say: rayuwa juyi-juyi ce—life is town by town. Where you stand today may not be where you stand tomorrow.
The true test of justice is not how it treats the powerful—but how it restrains them.