-By Abdul Mahmud
The decision of the Adamawa State Governor, Rt. Hon Ahmadu Umaru Fintiri CON, to grant pardon to Sunday Jackson marks a moment of relief in a country weighed down by grief and exhaustion. The announcement, framed as part of the Christmas and New Year commemorations, carries moral weight far beyond seasonal goodwill. For Sunday Jackson, condemned to death and confined at the Kuje Medium Security Custodial Centre, freedom now opens after years of fear and abandonment. For his supporters, scattered across Nigeria and the wider world, the pardon vindicates a long campaign anchored in conscience and faith. For many Christians of Northern Nigeria, the gesture brings a fragile sense of hope within a legal order that often appears hostile to their survival. The celebration surrounding Jackson’s release springs from more than personal sympathy. His case symbolised the collision between vulnerable rural communities and a justice system unable or unwilling to recognise the reality of constant threat. Jackson was sentenced to death for killing one of his attackers during a violent confrontation with Fulani herders. The facts, as widely reported and understood, pointed to self defence. A man faced with imminent danger acted to preserve his life. The law, designed to protect the innocent, turned instead into an instrument of terror against the very person it should have shielded.
The Supreme Court’s affirmation of the death sentence remains a dark chapter in Nigerian jurisprudence. Courts serve as the final refuge for the powerless, the arena where facts meet reason and where moral judgement tempers rigid and formalist doctrinaire. In Jackson’s case, that refuge completely collapsed. The apex court chose formalism over justice, procedure over humanity. A ruling that ignored the context of persistent attacks on farming communities sent a chilling message. Self defence, when claimed by a Christian farmer in Northern Nigeria, carries little weight before the scales of justice. Such judicial blindness cannot be separated from the broader climate of insecurity. Across large swathes of the Middle Belt and the North, Christian villages endure repeated assaults. Farmers abandon their land, churches mourn their dead, families live under the shadow of displacement. These attacks rarely lead to convictions. Perpetrators melt into the landscape, shielded by silence or official indifference. When a victim resists and survives, the full force of the state often descends upon him. That inversion of justice explains the outrage that followed Jackson’s sentencing. The pardon therefore reads as an implicit admission that the legal process failed. Executive clemency steps in when the machinery of law grinds out an unjust outcome. While the governor’s action deserves commendation, reliance on mercy rather than justice exposes a dangerous weakness. A society governed by pardons instead of fair trials risks normalising injustice while celebrating occasional relief as generosity.
The international community played a visible role in altering Jackson’s fate. The United States government, alongside faith based organisations and human rights advocates, demanded his release. That external scrutiny embarrassed Nigerian authorities into action. Such intervention raises uncomfortable questions about sovereignty and accountability. Why must foreign governments amplify the cry of a Nigerian citizen before his own institutions respond. Why did the moral authority of local churches and civil groups fail to move the system without global attention. The answer lies partly in the structural bias embedded within state institutions. Christians of the North frequently encounter a legal environment shaped by majoritarian assumptions. Policing, prosecution and adjudication often reflect the prejudices of dominant groups. Complaints from minority communities disappear into bureaucratic voids. Investigations stall. Trials drag on until hope evaporates. When verdicts finally arrive, they often deepen wounds rather than heal them. The Supreme Court bears particular responsibility. As the guardian of constitutional values, its pronouncements shape the moral compass of the nation. By endorsing Jackson’s death sentence, the court reinforced the perception that Christian lives count for less in zones of ethno religious tension. The ruling suggested that survival in the face of attack attracts punishment while aggression enjoys tacit tolerance. Such reasoning corrodes public trust in the judiciary.
Christmas, a season that celebrates deliverance and peace, provides a poignant backdrop to Jackson’s release. For him and his family, the holiday arrives with tears of gratitude. For campaigners who refused to accept his fate, the moment affirms the power of collective witness. Their persistence challenged a narrative of inevitability. They reminded our country that silence equals complicity. Still, celebration must coexist with sober reflection. Jackson’s freedom does not erase the sufferings of countless others trapped within the same hostile system. Many languish in detention without trial. Others carry wrongful convictions without the benefit of international spotlight. The structural conditions that produced Jackson’s ordeal remain intact. A serious reckoning demands reform at multiple levels. Law enforcement agencies require retraining to recognise patterns of communal violence and to protect threatened populations impartially. Prosecutors must abandon selective zeal that targets victims while ignoring aggressors. Judges must interpret self defence within the lived reality of insecurity, not as an abstract doctrine divorced from blood-stained farm lands and burned homes.
The death penalty itself warrants renewed scrutiny. Capital punishment magnifies judicial error into irreversible tragedy. In a system plagued by investigative failure and bias, execution becomes a tool of injustice rather than deterrence. Jackson stood within hours of such finality. His escape through pardon exposes the fragility of life under the law. Faith communities have played a crucial role in sustaining the campaign for justice. Churches mobilised prayer, advocacy and documentation. Their efforts countered narratives that framed violence as spontaneous clashes rather than organised aggression. This engagement must continue beyond individual cases. Advocacy rooted in moral clarity offers one of the few counterweights to institutional inertia.
The state must also confront the political dimensions of insecurity. Armed herder attacks reflect deeper failures of governance, land management and conflict resolution. Treating each incident as isolated obscures systemic breakdown. Until authorities address these root causes, the cycle of violence and selective justice will persist. Governor Fintiri’s pardon extended to other inmates alongside Jackson. That gesture hints at a broader recognition of flawed convictions. Such recognition should evolve into comprehensive review mechanisms. Independent panels could reassess cases involving communal violence, ensuring that self defence claims receive fair evaluation. The release of Sunday Jackson stands as a rare moment when mercy interrupts injustice. Gratitude remains appropriate. Applause remains deserved. Still, a nation cannot survive on exceptions. Justice must become the rule rather than a seasonal gift. For Christians of Northern Nigeria, the episode underscores both vulnerability and resilience. The law often appears hemmed against them, aligned with forces that threaten their existence. Even so, faith and solidarity continue to generate resistance. Jackson walks free today because many refused to forget him.
As the celebrations fade, the challenge endures. The Supreme Court must confront the moral consequences of its rulings. Legislators must reform laws that punish survival. Executives must act before foreign governments intervene. Only then can future Christmas seasons arrive without the bitter aftertaste of preventable suffering.
Sunday Jackson’s freedom restores one life. The task ahead seeks to restore justice itself.