Sunday
May 17, 2009 |
Remember that this and other columns are available
in PDF)
**********
On April 27, the Nigerian state committed
a grievous act of betrayal of 27 brave soldiers who simply stood up to
demand their right.
|
That day, a military tribunal
condemned the soldiers – among them, three women – to spend the
rest of their lives in jail. It is nothing short of a scandalous
miscarriage of justice that the court found the soldiers guilty
of mutiny. |
They
deserve apologies from the officers who stole from them. |
|
The scandal lies in the details of the
case. The soldiers’ so-called crime was to protest the non-payment of
allowances that accrued to them from their participation in United
Nations peacekeeping operations in Liberia. Each of the protesting
soldiers had earned as much as $25,000. Yet, long after the UN had
remitted the funds, some corrupt military officers sat on the funds.
After months of seeking payment, the exasperated soldiers staged a mild
protest in Akure, Ondo State. No doubt, they sought to draw attention to
their plight – and to shame the military authorities into releasing
their overdue entitlements.
Instead of doing the right thing by these long-suffering soldiers, the
military brass ordered their arrest and prosecution. Their lawyer, Femi
Falana, has said that they were detained for several months under
abominable conditions. And then the tribunal compounded this bizarre
injustice by herding these innocents off to life imprisonment.
This is one more instance – and a particularly unforgivable one – of a
highly criminalized state presuming to be the custodian of law and
order.
Let’s be clear: mutiny is a grave matter, with a potential for
undermining the security of a state. But the convicted soldiers,
properly understood, are not mutineers so much as they are victims of a
state that rewards real criminals.
Nobody has denied that some corrupt officers illicitly withheld the
soldiers’ stipends. In fact, in January the same tribunal had convicted
five officers of stealing $68,000 belonging to the hapless soldiers. And
what kind of punishment did the quick-fingered officers receive? Mere
demotion. Not one of them lost his job. Not one was slammed with a life
sentence.
Yet, the twenty-seven soldiers they disinherited and drove to the edge
of desperation are found fit to languish in jail unto death. Falana has
described the life sentences as “a charade that cannot stand.” Charade
is too mild a word.
Nigerian students, labor groups, academics and other professional
organizations ought to rise and protest the cruelty to these poor
soldiers who’ve been betrayed by their officers, and are in danger of
being made living corpses for asking to be paid what they had more than
earned.
Nigerian soldiers, like most of the country’s workforce, are poorly
paid. In contrast, many military officers earn handsome packages.
Besides, many officers enjoy one form or other of patronage from
politicians. There’s neither rhyme nor reason, then, for an officer to
steal a soldier’s allowance.
Yet, for years Nigerian soldiers drafted to peacekeeping tasks whispered
woeful stories of officers who took huge slices of their payments, or
even engaged in wholesale embezzlement.
Despite the appellation of “peacekeeping,” it’s no secret that these
operations are highly hazardous. Soldiers whose job is to keep the peace
are often shot at. Sometimes, they are sitting ducks, targeted by the
armed groups they try to keep from armed engagement. Many Nigerian
soldiers have lost their lives in such peacekeeping assignments as
Liberia, Sierra Leone, and the Congo. Many more have been maimed,
condemned to carry for life scars that are grotesque reminders of the
sacrifices they made to hold hell at bay for besieged civilian
populations in such addresses as Bosnia, Rwanda and Liberia.
The least a nation owes these men and women who risk life and limbs is
to ensure that they are paid their due at the completion of their
assignments. In the lawless space that’s Nigeria, where greed is
boundless, this simple expectation is often too much to ask.
What are soldiers to do when a few of their rogue officers decide to
pocket their peacekeeping allowances? Crawl into their barrack cocoons
and become mute victims? Fall to their knees, raise hands to heaven, and
leave the case in God’s hands? Should they pen petitions to politicians
in Abuja who all too often are too busy chasing after lucre to pause and
listen to anybody’s entreaties?
This is a portrait of the predicament these soldiers had to deal with.
They were aware of past instances when grubby officers made away with
soldiers’ peacekeeping allowances. They knew that Nigeria is a space
where crime pays, provided the criminal has the preferment of rank or
access to the powers-that-be.
They made a decision – absolutely sensible in the circumstances – to
dramatize their woes. They deserve apologies from the officers who stole
from them. Should these men and women be made to spend even a day in
jail, the Nigerian state would have made another investment in its
demise.