A combined push by the federal legislature and the executive to reform Nigeria’s shabby prisons seems to be at the high risk of a stillbirth. The initiative to restructure the prisons became a reality three months ago when President Muhammadu Buhari assented to the Nigerian Correctional Service Bill. The bill, which the National Assembly abandoned for 11 years before passing, changed the old name from the Nigerian Prisons Service to the Nigerian Correctional Service. But already, the pace of events in society seems to have overtaken some of the provisions of the new law.
To the initiators of the NCS law, the major impetus was how to transform the horrible conditions in the prisons for the better. But so far, the name change remains cosmetic, as the prisons have yet to witness a sea change. For decades, the facilities have been an eyesore, the direct opposite of the original motive for their establishment. With insufficient funding, pitiable feeding and no expansion taking place, overcrowding has become notorious. In Lagos, the five federal prisons, built to accommodate 4,087 inmates, had 9,044 inmates as of March, an affliction common to all the other prisons in the country.
The unhygienic cells, some constructed during the colonial era, breed disease, sodomy, insurrection, jailbreak and premature death. An Aljazeera report by an investigative journalist, Fisayo Soyombo, exposed the sordid acts at the Ikoyi Prisons in Lagos. Shortly thereafter, the brittle walls of the Koton Karfe Correctional Centre in Kogi State collapsed on the prisoners following flooding in which the 228 inmates initially escaped.
With this, it was impossible for the outgoing system to achieve its aim of positively reforming prisoners. Staffing is grossly inadequate, with few professionals. In all, Nigeria’s prisons have an occupancy level of more than 146.8 per cent: instead of the official capacity of 50,153, the 240 prisons have 74,081 inmates. Out of this, only 22,390 male and 311 female prisoners have been convicted, leaving 69.35 per cent as awaiting trial inmates.
Graphically, this depicts Nigeria’s cruel justice system, with an intricate interplay of the police, the state governments and the judiciary all emasculating a system on its knees. Innocent victims of indiscriminate arrests by the police become hardened criminals in the toxic cells: repeatedly, revelations emerge of ex-inmates who become enmeshed in crime during their time in prison.
In October, the police paraded 81 crime suspects in Abuja. Among them were six ex-convicts who confessed that they formed their kidnapping gang while serving time for different offences. The gang leader, Rufai Mohammed, said, “We became friends when we were in the Katsina Correctional Centre. During interaction, we got to know that we were about completing our jail terms. That was when we decided to shift from armed robbery to kidnapping.”
The process of seeking a holistic reform culminated in the NCS Act 2019. Undoubtedly, it is well intentioned. Its key provisions empower NCS state controllers to reject intakes if the facilities under their control are full, and the separation of custodial and non-custodial sentencing (for minor offenders). In Nigeria, this is novel, but it is the model in most of Europe. Yet, in case the controller rejects hardened criminals, where will they be remanded when all the other correctional centres are also filled up?
Now, the NCS Act falls fundamentally short of making a profound impact on the prison system. Notably, funding is still poor. Moreover, there is acute data shortage in respect of those who should be on parole or community service. Without forensic data on them, they could easily disappear from the radar and conveniently continue with their criminal ways. Therefore, the police, in conjunction with the NCS and the judiciary, need to build reliable data banks on criminals.
The new law has made no radical improvement on the issue of inmates on death row. Many of them abound at the centres nationwide, but the state governors are shy to sign the death warrants. There is no point in holding these people endlessly. For the law to attain its goal of decongesting the facilities, it has to be specific. It is either the death sentence be abolished or those who have been condemned are executed swiftly in line with their sentencing.
Yet, the most conspicuous blunder in the Act is the failure to devolve the power to run the prisons. This is the practice in federal political systems. Conversely, prison is on the Exclusive Legislative List (48) here, which means only the Federal Government controls it. This incongruity undermines effective running of the prisons. Petty offenders in remote communities are hauled into federal prisons. The Federal Government spends money on this, thereby putting itself in a pointless financial hole. States should have the power to run correctional centres. In some countries, private investment in the running of prison facilities is also encouraged.
To accomplish the lofty aims of the NCS Act, the parliament, the state governments and the Federal Government should amend it again, devolving prisons prison management in the country.
In addition, the law should upgrade the non-custodial sentencing aspect. Norway, for example, is turning criminals to good citizens having moved away from a punitive system to that of rehabilitation. That country’s rigorous reform allows family members to stay with a convict at weekends; prisoners are locked up only at night and are trained daily. According to the Norwegian Correctional Service, this has reduced recidivism to 20 per cent since the programme began in 1980. Germany adopted a similar reform recently. Some convicts are allowed to undertake paid daily jobs and return to the prison at night. Notably, non-custodial sentencing has already taken off in Lagos State and could be adopted nationwide.
To reduce prison congestion, the police should stop the indiscriminate arrest of innocent persons, especially the youth, while the courts should adjudicate legal disputes swiftly.
