Paul Anyebe, a judge of the High Court in Benue State, north-central Nigeria, found his career jeopardized by a tragic family incident in 1983. Attempting to discipline his son, whose penchant for mischief led to an attempt at theft, Anyebe accidentally discharged a firearm, seriously injuring the boy. The Attorney-General of Benue State charged Anyebe with attempted murder, a state offense under the Penal Code, and added the federal offense of illegal firearm possession.
While the Attorney-General of Benue had jurisdiction over the state charge, only the Attorney-General of the Federation could authorize prosecution for federal crimes. Anyebe was discharged on the attempted murder charge but convicted for illegal firearm possession, receiving a three-year prison sentence later reduced by the Court of Appeal to six months or a fine of 100 Naira. Despite the pending appeal, he was dismissed as a judge.
In January 1986, the Supreme Court overturned Anyebe’s conviction, declaring that a State Attorney-General lacks authority to prosecute federal offenses. Justice Dahunsi Olugbemi Coker articulated the principle: “The short point is whether a State Attorney-General can prosecute an offence created by an Act of the National Assembly.” The Court’s unanimous response was no, nullifying the trial and ordering Anyebe’s reinstatement. Justice Adolphus Godwin Karibi-Whyte emphasized that federal crimes are exclusively within federal jurisdiction.
This landmark decision precludes federal crimes from being prosecuted in state courts, including Magistrates’ Courts, which have no jurisdiction over federal offenses.
Dele Farotimi’s Case in Ekiti
Thirty-eight years after the Supreme Court’s ruling in the Anyebe case, the Nigeria Police Force (NPF) on December 4, 2024, arraigned lawyer and writer Dele Farotimi before an Ekiti State Magistrates’ Court on 16 counts under the federal Criminal Code Act.
In 2021, Ekiti State replaced its Criminal Code with the Criminal Law of Ekiti State, which does not recognize criminal libel or defamation as offenses. Nevertheless, Farotimi was detained in Lagos by NPF operatives and transported across state lines to Ekiti, where he was arraigned for criminal defamation—a charge unknown to Ekiti law.
Despite the clear lack of jurisdiction and the absence of a cognizable offense under state law, the Magistrate ordered Farotimi’s remand in prison custody until December 10—ironically, International Human Rights Day.
Flaws in the Proceedings
Even if the Magistrate had jurisdiction, which he did not, the alleged crime is classified as a misdemeanor under Ekiti’s criminal law, punishable by up to two years in prison and thus bailable on liberal terms. The remand order reeks of arbitrariness, raising concerns about premeditated misuse of judicial power.
The UN Declaration of Basic Principles of Justice for Victims of Crime and Abuse of Power calls such actions “criminal abuse of power.” Misusing state machinery to prosecute non-existent crimes is antithetical to justice.
Moreover, some legal commentators suggest that Farotimi must “have his day in court” to prove his claims. This assertion betrays a misunderstanding of criminal law, where the burden lies with the state to prove guilt beyond reasonable doubt. Civil proceedings, not criminal ones, are the proper forum for such disputes.
The Star Chamber Analogy
Farotimi’s ordeal echoes the notorious Star Chamber of medieval England—an emblem of arbitrary justice. His best-selling book critiques judicial systems prone to manipulation, and his current predicament only reinforces his warnings.
In 2021, the Supreme Court condemned the “dangerously rampant” practice of using criminal law for civil disputes, describing criminal defamation as a relic of the Star Chamber. It insisted that complainants pursuing unwarranted criminal proceedings must face accountability.
A Warning and a Sacrifice
Farotimi, astutely predicting the unfolding events, called his abduction to Ekiti a witch-hunt, not justice. As he faces trial on Human Rights Day, the sanctity of rights enshrined in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights is imperiled.
Those who believe they are achieving vindication may come to regret this hubris. History shows that justice weaponized for persecution often consumes its architects.
