The case involves Mr. Joseph Ottih, a 70-year-old resident of Imo State, whose family say they have been violently attacked, displaced from their home, and criminalised after refusing to remove an Agwu ritual object from their compound.
A dispute over a traditional religious object known as Agwu has escalated into allegations of police brutality, extortion, and witchcraft persecution in Imo State, raising serious concerns about law enforcement’s role in reinforcing harmful beliefs rather than upholding the law.
The case involves Mr. Joseph Ottih, a 70-year-old resident of Imo State, whose family say they have been violently attacked, displaced from their home, and criminalised after refusing to remove an Agwu ritual object from their compound.
Human rights advocates say the incident exposes how witchcraft accusations, traditional beliefs, and policing intersect to fuel abuse and impunity.
“This is a clear case of witch persecution enabled by the police,” said Leo Igwe, Director of the Advocacy for Alleged Witches (AfAW). “Witchcraft accusation is against the law. It is the accusers, not the accused, who should be arrested and prosecuted.”
A search for healing turns into persecution
According to Mr. Ottih, the crisis began in December 2024 after one of his sons collapsed during a football match. Desperate to find help, the family sought medical and spiritual solutions from churches and traditional healers across Imo State.
“We went everywhere people told us there was help,” Ottih said. “Native doctors, pastors, prayer houses; we paid huge amounts of money because we wanted our child to live.”
The family listed payments totalling millions of naira: ₦250,000 to a native doctor in Naze, ₦170,000 to a Winners’ Chapel pastor in Mbaise, ₦750,000 to a healer in Omuma, ₦560,000 to an Ezenwanyi, ₦950,000 for an Agwu ritual for Mrs. Ottih, and ₦250,000 for the son. Other healers charged between ₦50,000 and ₦780,000.
Joseph said one native doctor in Mgbidi performed an Agwu ritual that was kept in their compound and appeared to coincide with his son’s recovery.
“The boy started getting better,” Ottih said.
Relative mobilises vigilantes and police
Trouble began when a relative, Hilary Onyema Ottih, returned from the United States and allegedly demanded the removal of the Agwu, claiming it posed a spiritual danger to him and his siblings.
“There was no trouble until relatives came and said the Agwu must go. They said the Agwu would affect them negatively,” Joseph explained. “But it was in my compound, not theirs.”
Joseph alleged that Hilary mobilised members of a local vigilante group to forcibly remove the object. When the family resisted, Hilary reportedly contacted officers from the Imo State Police Command’s anti-kidnapping unit, popularly known as Tigerbase.
“They broke into our compound with the vigilantes and took the Agwu by force,” Ottih said. “One officer hit me with a gun. I fell down. Another slapped my daughter, and another shot my daughter in the leg.”
The following day, Joseph said, Hilary returned with other siblings, armed with a pistol and a machete.
“He said he would cut off my son’s head,” Ottih alleged. “He beat me with a pestle on my back, my legs, everywhere. If someone did not stop him, he would have killed me.”
The family said mobs later invaded the compound, destroying fruit trees, doors, windows, and a borehole, forcing them to flee the community.
Wife detained; family extorted
On January 3, Joseph’s wife, Oby Ottih, was arrested by vigilantes at a market and handed over to Tigerbase officers.
“They put me inside the boot of their car,” Oby said. “I was detained until January 7. They released me only after my family paid ₦150,000.”
AfAW advocates who visited Tigerbase on January 16 said they were shocked by what they found.
“The police invaded the compound of alleged victims and protected the accusers,” Igwe said. “That is the opposite of what the law requires.”
Police defend action with tradition
The Investigating Police Officer, Chikadibia Okebala, also known as “Kill and Bury”, reportedly justified the operation by claiming the Agwu caused fear in the family and community.
“He told us that local tradition recognises Agwu,” Igwe said. “But the law does not. The Nigerian Constitution guarantees freedom of religion or belief.”
According to AfAW, Okebala even attributed a vehicle accident and the illness of the complainant to the “potency” of the seized Agwu.
“He was speaking like a traditional priest, not a police officer,” Igwe said. “This is dangerous. The police are not enforcers of tradition or religion.”
The officer later showed advocates the confiscated items, a decomposing chicken, wooden carvings, a rod with small gongs, and red and black cloth, which he described as court exhibits.
“It was almost absurd,” Igwe said. “Watching a police officer search through a dump for a ‘powerful’ charm that allegedly terrorised a whole community,” he said.
Threat of prosecution
AfAW said police are now working with the complainants to charge Ottih and his family with attempted murder and assault.
“The allegation has no merit,” Igwe said. “They will have to prove what makes those items a crime and how keeping them in one’s compound amounts to attempted murder.”
AfAW has pledged legal support for the family and renewed its call for urgent police reform.
“Witch hunting must stop,” Igwe said. “Police officers who act as witch hunters must be stopped. Training is urgently needed so officers understand the law, not superstition.”
Igwe, whose organisation campaigns to end witch hunts in Africa by 2030, warned that without accountability, cases like that of the Ottih family would continue.
“This is not just about one family,” he said. “It is about whether the Nigerian state will protect citizens from superstition-driven violence or participate in it.”