Of late, a disturbing new form of jungle justice has evolved, in which suspected thieves are made to take to the “dance floor” with their accusers in the spectators’ stands. These sad spectacles not only curtail suspects’ human rights, but also trade the courtroom for a stage, and due process for a viral clip, JOSEPH ONYEKWERE reports.
Today in some parts of the country, suspected thieves – both those caught in the act or those merely accused of it, are increasingly not being handed over to the police. Instead, they are stripped, dehumanised, and forced to perform for their accusers.
They are forced to dance, sing, rap, and sometimes twerk while clutching the very items they are alleged to have stolen.
The social media has given the phenomenon two names. The first, “99 days for the thief, one day for the owner,” which explains the old Nigerian proverb that a criminal is bound to have a bad day in all his escapes. The second, “Thieves Got Talent,” is borrowed from a reality television show, “Nigerians Got Talent.”
The performances vary with each new video. In one widely circulated clip from Benin City, a young man accused of stealing electrical cables was made to twist the wire into a crown, place it on his head, and rap before a jeering crowd.
In another such sad spectacle, a man accused of stealing cooking pots was forced to dance, sing, and twerk as the pots were paraded around him.
In Nsukka, Enugu State, suspects allegedly caught stealing building rods were made to dance with the heavy iron still draped around their necks, a punishment that left onlookers and online observers more amused than alarmed, judging by the flood of salutary comments beneath the video.
At the National Open University of Nigeria in June, a man accused of stealing laptop computer sets from the campus offices was surrounded by security personnel and students, beaten, and then ordered to dance improvised by the crowd. Dozens of phones recorded the “performance” as he was eventually struck on the head and fell to the ground.
The trend has been especially visible in Edo and Delta states, although clips have surfaced from across the country. Some even go further in the theatrical jungle justice, as suspects are wrapped in transparent nylon and hoisted by cranes, or tied to motorcycles and dragged through dirt.
To its defenders, the trend is rough justice for a country weary of theft and unconvinced that the police will do much about it. They described the videos as an informal deterrent. In one of the clips, a young man with his hands tied behind his back twerked in Benin, while the crowd jeered.
A social media commentator, Margaret Edet, said: “I love this. Edo people have introduced a new method of punishing thieves. This method is better than instant judgment.” Another commentator, Emmanuel Augustine, who appears to share Edet’s views, added: “It will be better to take the thief to his neighbourhood to dance.”
A suspected thief, caught in Ebonyi State, was forced to dance with a white fowl, which he allegedly stole, tied to his hands. While he danced, the captors ordered him to kiss the chicken. He immediately complied while still whirling his waist. Yet in another video, a young man stripped to his boxer shorts was forced to dance inside stagnant water, while the crowd jeered at him. One of the commentators, Christian Eze Ezeaguka, described it as “bad season for thieves”.
Another commentator, Charles Joel, said: “The rate of robbery is on the rise, which is a sign of economic hardship that the president is denying. Thankfully, no matter how hard events get for Nigerians, we always have ways of catching cruise with it. But we need our lives to be better.”
In one widely shared clip, two young men accused of stealing pepper were compelled to eat the raw vegetables while drinking dry gin, their agony recorded by dozens of smartphones.
Unfortunately, the distinction between spectacle and justice is where commentators say the trend reveals its true character.
Increasingly, beating the suspect alone no longer satisfies the crowd. There is a pause after the violence, and this is the moment when the “performance” begins, and the suspect is ordered to hold the stolen item aloft, dance, and repeat lines shouted by the mob. The goal, some say, is no longer simply to catch a thief, but to produce content.
The clearest warning of where this can lead is reflected in the case of the 25-year-old student at the University of Jos, Ibrahim Mbaya. He had a different fate. The young man was beaten to death after being accused of theft by a vicious crowd.
He repeatedly said he stole nothing, but the crowd wouldn’t listen. His death was filmed too, not as a forced performance this time, but as a killing that was shared and replayed with the same appetite that had fuelled the dancing videos before it.
Those who take part in these mob actions and those who film and post them have largely faced no consequences. The Nigerian Police Force has since made arrests in the Mbaya case, with at least one suspect reportedly confessing, but the broader pattern persists.
Whatever the entertainment value of a viral dancing clip, Nigerian law treats jungle justice as criminal conduct.
But while the crowd relishes the entertaining moments, lawyers and rights advocates see something darker: a presumption of guilt enforced by a crowd, with a smartphone camera as both judge and audience.
Section 33(1) of the 1999 Constitution (as altered) guarantees every person the right to life, withheld only “in execution of the sentence of a court in respect of a criminal offence of which he has been found guilty.”
Section 34 protects the dignity of the human person against torture and inhuman or degrading treatment. This squarely covers the stripping, beating and forced performance seen in those videos. Section 35 guarantees personal liberty, and Section 36 guarantees a fair hearing before a court of competent jurisdiction. A crowd that detains a suspect, strips him, and orders him to perform violates several of these provisions simultaneously, before a single blow is thrown.
Beneath the Constitution, the Criminal Code (applicable in southern Nigeria, where this trend is most concentrated) outlaws such conduct. Assault and causing bodily harm are captured under sections 252 and 355. Where a mob detains someone against their will to force a performance, that is unlawful detention. Where the “punishment” escalates to death as it did in the case of Mbaya, it is considered murder under Section 316, which attracts capital punishment. And this involves everyone who participated in planning, inciting or carrying out the attack.
In Shalla v. State (2007), the Court of Appeal reaffirmed that only a court of law can determine guilt and impose punishment. So, a mob cannot substitute itself for the judiciary, no matter how confident it is of a suspect’s guilt.
Legal practitioners, while reflecting on the broader phenomenon of jungle justice, make the same point in near-identical terms.
Lagos-based lawyer, Theophilus Akanwa, stressed that jungle justice is completely illegal and unconstitutional in Nigeria. He, however, pointed out that jungle justice arose from a lack of justice in most cases.

“The 1999 Constitution of Nigeria protects every citizen through core rights that forbid mob rule. Section 33 of the Constitution provides the right to life, as no life shall be taken, except by a competent court order,” he stated, adding that Section 34 also guarantees the right to human dignity.
According to Akanwa, to torture, beat and publicly humiliate a suspect is strictly prohibited because the grundnorm provides for every citizen to be heard before condemnation or sanction.
He said: “It is also pertinent to re-emphasise that by section 36(5), every citizen is presumed innocent until proven guilty by a court of law.
“Jungle justice is not permitted in our laws, but there is a serious need for security agencies and the courts to do more, with a view to dispensing justice timeously, no matter whose ox is gored!”
Similarly, a Senior Advocate of Nigeria, Yomi Aliyu, believes the barbaric nature of mob justice, mirrored in the dancing thieves phenomenon, offends the provisions of the law. He argued that mob irrationality and the attempt to discourage theft are among the factors instigating such action.
“The recurrence of an abhorrent behaviour in our society like kidnapping, child or women rituals or burglary could ignite the will in individuals to participate in mob action. In all, the law frowns at mob action. Section 36 of the 1999 Constitution (as altered) elaborates on what constitutes crime and the right of the defendant to be heard. The Criminal Code in sections 7 and 8 provide for common intention and purpose. Section 516 of the said law deals with mob action and provides various punishments for it. In conclusion, mob action is not only inhumane, but it is also criminal,” he declared.
A Lagos-based lawyer, Stephen Azubuike sees the phenomenon differently, though in a lighter mode.
According to him, the unlawful act of jungle justice, which often ends in the extrajudicial execution of the alleged criminals, has been reduced to a dancing fiesta.
He, however, condemned the act for violating the fundamental rights of suspects. “Nevertheless, based on the combined effect of the principle of presumption of innocence and the fundamental right to human dignity, it is difficult to fully approve the forced dancing which is usually associated with public ridicule,” he said.
Also, Abdulaziz Chuba Ogbui, a lawyer, explained that jungle justice entails people appropriating the law to themselves. “It is illegal, and the penalty they met out to suspects depends on their mood. It could be humiliation, like forcing alleged thieves to dance in public, beheading or setting humans ablaze.
“Whatever form of punishment it is is illegal. Any person alleged to have committed an offence is deemed innocent until found guilty. An alleged offender should be handed over to the police,” he advised.
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