Amaye and the Tragedy of Jungle Justice By Umar Farouk Bala
On August 30, 2025, in Kasuwan-Garba, Niger State, a woman named Amaye was seized from security operatives, lynched, and set ablaze by a mob. Her alleged crime was a single remark interpreted as blasphemous against Prophet Muhammad (S.A.W).
Her death echoes the tragic fate of Deborah Emmanuel in Sokoto in 2022 and countless others accused of blasphemy or minor crimes. In Nigeria, the mob often assumes the roles of judge, jury, and executioner, bypassing law and reason entirely.
This is not justice—it is barbarism—and it steadily erodes the very fabric of our society. Blasphemy-related violence is a recurring nightmare in northern Nigeria. Christian minorities, for example, have faced deadly accusations that spiral into destruction.
In January 2025, Dr. Sadiq Mani Abubakar, a Christian lecturer, narrowly escaped death in Katsina when his home was torched over an old social media post. The pattern is alarming: once the cry of “blasphemy” rises, restraint vanishes.
Due process becomes irrelevant, and innocent or guilty alike rarely live to see a fair hearing. But mob violence is not limited to religion. Jungle justice—executing suspected thieves or wrongdoers on the spot—has become a staple of Nigeria’s law-and-order crisis.
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Amnesty International recorded hundreds of such cases in a single year, yet few perpetrators face punishment. The tragedy extends beyond individual deaths. Any passing insult, misinterpreted joke, or whispered rumor can trigger a mob, making life suddenly expendable.
By tolerating such lawlessness, Nigeria sends a dangerous signal: mob anger is more powerful than the constitution, the courts, or even the sanctity of human life.
The consequences are devastating. Communities live in fear. Minorities are silenced. Families are displaced. And extremists exploit this climate of impunity, settling personal scores behind the guise of mob action.
The state bears direct responsibility. Time and again, mobs overpower security forces while officers either hesitate or fail to intervene. In Niger State, police admitted Amaye was killed before reinforcements arrived.
In Sokoto, Deborah Emmanuel’s killers walked free. This failure reinforces a deadly cycle: if mob murderers go unpunished, the next mob sees no reason to stop.
The truth is stark: in too many Nigerian towns, the rule of the mob has replaced the rule of law. Nigeria cannot advance while barbarism masquerades as justice. Leaders must act decisively.
The death of Amaye should not be just another statistic; it must become a turning point. The state owes its citizens protection. The courts owe them justice. Society owes itself restraint. Anything less is complicity. In a land where mobs decide who lives and who dies, no one is truly safe.
