Reporting News and opinions
Passports are supposed to be the great equalizers of national identity. If two people carry the green-backed book stamped with the Nigerian coat of arms, the constitution insists they share the exact same claim to fundamental dignity and justice. But citizenship, like roaming data on a prepaid SIM, appears to depend entirely on which borders your passport happens to cross.
The optical message broadcast to the public is one of relentless vigilance, a leader ensuring the masses are not shortchanged. The institutional reality, however, is that governance has vacated the cabinet room and wandered into the realm of amateur site supervision.
It has no postcode. It does not appear on Google Maps. There are no street signs pointing towards it. Yet, whenever one of its inhabitants is caught saying something outrageous or doing something politically or legally questionable, suddenly we are told that the offending words or conduct belonged there.
A rumour becomes a scandal. A disagreement becomes a conspiracy. An inconvenient question becomes evidence of a plot. An opponent is not merely wrong, but corrupt, compromised, bought, controlled or secretly working for somebody else.
The primary statutory authority for this sentence is Section 260 of the Kebbi State Penal Code Law, 2021, which criminalizes "unnatural offences." While the exact wording of Kebbi State's provision isn't publicly available in full, similar provisions in northern Nigerian penal codes typically define "unnatural offences" as carnal intercourse against the order of nature, which judicial interpretation has extended to include same-sex sexual acts and anal intercourse.
