Chidozie Ajokuji, who was falsely accused of robbery and detained in Kirikiri Medium Correctional Centre with three other friends for 10 years until his freedom last week, tells VICTOR AYENI about his wrongful arrest, long court battles, and eventual journey to freedom
How were you arrested?
I was arrested on November 7, 2014, in my area, Egbeda, Lagos. That morning, around 9am, I was returning home from where I had gone to charge my laptop because there was no electricity. As I was entering our compound, operatives of the Special Anti-Robbery Squad accosted me and asked what was in my bag, and I told them it was my laptop. At that time, I used to download games and do graphic designs for people.
The officers accused me of being an armed robber; they refused to listen to my explanations. They asked about me from one of the people around that day and he described me as a gentle, easy-going and well-behaved boy in the area, but they still didn’t listen. They said I belonged to a gang of thieves who robbed someone in 2013.
I knew nothing about what they were talking about. I didn’t know they had already arrested Abbass Oyeniyi, Peter Oloyede, and Prosper Odijeh. That was how they rounded us up and charged us with robbery and conspiracy.
We were taken to the station and they accused us of robbing one barrister, (Yemi) Omodele of his Lexus SUV car a year earlier. Later, they accused me of being a Yahoo boy. Someone in detention was able to contact my mother to inform her that I had been arrested.
I started to pray that in the SARS detention, God should let them arrest the thief who stole the car and vindicate me. To my amazement, the culprit, one Hakeem, was brought into detention by SARS operatives the next day.
Hakeem had taken the stolen car to a mechanic to sell for him, and the police found the car. When they asked the mechanic who the owner of the car was, he told them that he was the owner. That was how he was arrested. When I saw him brought into custody, I was rejoicing that God had answered my prayer, and now that the criminal had been found, we would all be released.
What then happened after Hakeem was taken into SARS custody?
The officers still refused to release us. They accused us of being accomplices to the crime. They asked Hakeem if he knew us and he said no. I didn’t know him either even though he lived in our area. The SARS officers said we were criminals and threatened to waste our lives.
One of them took me to a place there where I was shown dead bodies and they told me those were criminals whom they had killed. They threatened that the same fate would befall us if we stayed longer in their detention. In fact, one of us had a dream that Hakeem must have been killed there.
After spending a month in that hellish place, they took us to a court but there was a downpour on that day and the Magistrate couldn’t be in court. So, we were returned to SARS detention. Later, the three of us made it to court.
I was so happy to see my mother and the rest of my family who were present. I also saw Hakeem; they didn’t kill him. I was hopeful that since the person who committed the crime was already caught, we would have speedy justice. I was wrong.
At the court, the complainant identified Hakeem as the thief who snatched his car at gunpoint. Our family was able to get a lawyer to represent the three of us. They read the charge sheet to the three of us and we pleaded not guilty.
When did you begin to realise that justice was being elusive?
That was when the complainant came to see us in detention and said, ‘So you think you have a lawyer defending you, right? I will show you.’ The three of us prostrated and held him by the leg and started to plead with him in tears but he didn’t listen. The next thing we knew was that our case was moved to the High Court.
After the case was tarried for a whole year, in 2015, the complainant identified only Hakeem as the culprit and there were also some disputes in court about whether he was shot or not. Yet that didn’t get us freed. We were taken to Kirikiri Medium Correctional Centre while Hakeem was taken to the maximum prison.
Why did the case tarry so long?
Things just kept getting complicated. We kept going to court over and over again. At a point, the Investigating Police Officer was transferred to Abuja and was no longer showing up in court. Then the first lawyer who defended us opted out of the case because he had taken a chieftaincy title in the village and could no longer represent us in court again.
But God raised another helper. One of my friends, Deji, whom I met online, got to know that I was in prison. Then he told his friend, Hassana (Kehinde), who is one of the co-founders of the Ray of Hope Prison Outreach. She reached out to me and the non-governmental organisation helped me to get another lawyer, and for years, they supported me and fought for me to be released from detention.
You opted for a plea bargain over a crime you didn’t commit. Why did you take such a decision?
I had no choice anymore because I was afraid, frustrated and tired of how long we kept visiting the High Court. In fact, I lacked appetite. I realised that even for the next 20 years, we would continue going to court and nothing would still come out of it.
I cried so much and had to force my family to concede to let me appeal for a plea bargain because my family, our lawyer and even Hassana disagreed with me, assuring me that my case would be struck out.
Did your family eventually agree to it?
Yes, I kept putting pressure on them that nothing must happen to me because I was suffering in prison for a crime I knew nothing about and I saw inmates opting for plea bargains and they were going home.
I just wanted to do the same so I could gain my freedom. I knew I would be sentenced for some years and that’s it. Not that I would be eventually imprisoned or condemned for what I didn’t do and I had seen cases like this.
I don’t want to become a politician and if I want to travel out and they say because of my plea bargain I can’t leave the country, I will stay in Nigeria and work here. I just wanted my freedom and I wanted to see my family again. I am now with my mum. My third sister died two months ago and I lost my dad when I was about 10, so we are three now.
My family spoke to our lawyer and he worked on it and the plea bargain was approved. They gave us (Prosper and I) a sentence of 10 years but the day they sentenced us in court, November 20, 2024, made it 10 years we entered in prison, so we were freed. Abbass will soon apply for his too but he is still in prison. I wasn’t expecting that I would leave the prison. But now I am happy that I can walk freely in the streets of Lagos and start a new life again.
What was prison life like?
As for the feeding, the government serves us rations. In the morning, they serve us one cup of beans in a takeaway pack and that food, to be sincere, even your house dog can’t eat the food. It might even bite your hand first. The food is very bad; you can’t survive with the food.
In the afternoon, they bring one cup of garri without sugar or groundnut. You will be given that same cup again in the evening and that’s your ration for the day. Many people are suffering there. Some NGOs and churches used to come around and bring us materials like slippers. In prison, I attended a Pentecostal church and even joined the choir.
My family brought food also and I shared the little I had with my friends. They have vocational schools there where you can learn. The yard used to be congested but that changed a bit since 2016. It was a tough place.
What kept you hopeful while doing time?
I always found joy in the church. When I went to church every Sunday, I danced because there in the presence of God, I experienced true freedom. They also have a Catholic church in there and there is also a mosque there as well.
Another thing that kept me going was sports. We had a field where we played a competition and I belonged to a basketball team. These things made me view my time in prison as training because somewhere within me, I knew I would ‘graduate’ from that training and leave.
I introduced the Ray of Hope Prison Outreach to one inmate named Mr Kazeem and through their help they got him out of the facility some months ago. I also let them know about some minors in prison and the NGO also got two of them released.
How has your prison experience changed your overall perception of life?
My experience in prison has taught me patience, endurance, contentment and how to manage things. For instance, in prison, once your ration finishes and you want to carry that of another person, there could be trouble. So it taught me how to be hopeful.