Nigeria’s grim poverty profile — with the World Bank projecting the number of poor citizens to hit 95.1 million in 2022 — makes access to justice for many low-income earners herculean. This is worsened by the police force’s many extortionist practices that continue to keep the agency out of reach of the common man. TheCable’s STEPHEN KENECHI went undercover to five police stations in Lagos and documented what it takes to get police help. He reports on how underfunding of the force deprives many of the right to justice.
For a station in a hurly-burly neighbourhood, Pen Cinema Division in Agege was devoid of major activity on the cloudy evening of June 8, 2022, when this reporter walked through its unlatched main gate. At the security post, a few phlegmatic officers sat on a wooden bench. The reporter identifies as a victim looking to report a case. One officer motions towards the reception desk manned by a slender policewoman of average height, a half-eaten serving of amala sitting on her desk in an uncovered Styrofoam container. She would spend several minutes pacing back and forth before reemerging with a 20-leaf book that serves as a makeshift entry ledger. This journalist reports a case of non-payment for service rendered to a client but the officer scribbles “stealing” in her note alongside other details. She leads him past the counter towards a dark passageway, showing him to the entrance of the investigating police officers’ (IPOs) office. The policewoman halts mid-way, her palm stretched out surreptitiously. “You have to pay for my book. It is ₦3000,” she says. The officer would decline electronic fund transfer, insisting that the reporter visits an ATM across the road to fetch the sum before assigning him an IPO. She takes the money on his return, crumples it into her knee-long black skirt, and tells him to see one IPO Moses.

Pen Cinema Division, Agege
Citizens groan under weight of failing police force
Enewa Obute was working as a sales attendant at a gift shop situated within Bariga, a Lagos community, when the teenager was subdued and raped by a deliveryman. The assault, her lawyer Sylvester Agih stated, happened in June 2020 on a day Obute attended to customers alone in the absence of her boss. Agih said the accused had muffled the screams of the teenager, taking her to the inner section of the shop which was situated on the upper floor of the building. “The man forced himself on her, dropped the sum of ₦1000 on the desk, and left,” the lawyer narrated. On the shop owner’s return, Obute would be conveyed to a nearby hospital where she underwent tests with the case ultimately falling to the police command headquarters in Ikeja after it was transferred from the Bariga division. But the officers meant to probe the matter insisted they lacked the resources to do so. “The police were supposed to begin an investigation but said they didn’t have the funds to track the rapist. This is even though we had furnished them with the address of the man,” Agih, who works with Gavel, a civic tech NGO, said. “We haggled over it and they eventually took ₦15,000 because we were an NGO.”

Gavel’s Sylvester Agih
Imposing policing costs on crime victims
By the time this reporter finished field rounds for this report, he had visited a total of five stations, each time following a valid case of a client evading payment for a rendered service. At the Alakara division in Mushin, another Lagos community, his cell phone is taken before he’s made to wait at the reception desk manned by three female officers. Shortly after, 11 men accused of theft are shoved in, with an officer who led them from behind violently booting the suspects in the torso to hasten movement. Two more cuffed together are nudged in, one drenched in the blood oozing from his head. The suspects, some protesting innocence, are then stripped to their pants one by one and led toward a holding room. Shaken at the manhandling of citizens who, by law, are still innocent until proven guilty in whatever case is against them, this reporter signals one of the female officers to point out he was still on the wait. He is then ushered into an office labelled ‘DCB’ to see a non-uniformed woman identified as ‘Alhaja’. After Alhaja listened amid multiple interruptions and made the reporter write a statement, she points out he has to pay ₦30,000 for tracking, a task she said the Department of State Services (DSS) would handle. “DSS tracks for us. If the client is arrested, put the cost in the money you want to recover,” she adds. Arriving at C Division, Ojuelegba at mid-day on October 10 and recounting the same case to two female and a male officer at the reception desk, this reporter is motioned towards an IPO office to meet with an operative simply identified as ‘OC Surveillance’ who is also quick to point out that ₦50,000 is to be paid alongside subsequent costs to be incurred if tracking the evasive client takes the IPOs outside of Lagos. She implied other logistic costs would be incurred when she told this reporter: “You have to mobilise”. As the reporter weighed the cost of recovering the money against how much he was looking to recover, the officer, like her Mushin colleague, offered the option of imposing those on the suspect if arrested. Although debt recovery disputes are a civil matter, the legal basis on which the officers would suggest the imposition of the force’s own investigation costs on a potential crime subject remains unclear as no law in Nigeria justifies the practice of making an arrested suspect pay the cost of a police investigation. At this point, one thing is apparent; the NPF is strapped for resources, hence making suspects foot the bills.
Operation vehicles offer first look into NPF’s funding troubles
The National Bureau of Statistics, as of 2017, put the number of police stations, posts, commands, and headquarters in Nigeria at 5,556. Crime data hasn’t been released since then but the consensus is that the figure would have increased, given the growing need to situate police outfits closer to communities in response to a soaring crime rate. The Nigerian police typically use pickup trucks and armoured vehicles for many of their domestic operations. Patrol vehicles with a team of officers are usually deployed to predefined locations across communities where they stay on standby daily until contacted by stations for emergency response when such cases arise. Others are often patrolling within a defined locale all day, consuming fuel and ultimately wearing out. An anonymous Lagos policeman who spoke on this stated that such vehicles should be constantly ready to move and fuelled with at least 20 litres of petrol, given the unpredictability of police operations.

Five-year budget for fueling police trucks
Shortage of police uniforms and accoutrements
In July 2021, the NPF decried the unauthorised sale of police uniforms and accoutrements by non-force parties in a strongly-worded pronouncement issued by Alkali Usman, the inspector-general. It cited Sections 25 of the Criminal Code and 133 of the Penal Code as laws that criminalise the act while directing all commands, formations, the IGP monitoring unit, provost marshals, and X-Squad to ensure the arrest and immediate prosecution of offenders in their jurisdiction. But it would appear this is more of a formality than practice. Regular NPF personnel buy uniforms, boots, and shoes on their own, often from private artisans. The backstreet route into Ikeja Police College in Lagos doubles as an abode for countless tailors catering to just anybody rich enough to visit their sheds & makeshift workshops to wave a couple of Naira bills, no brows raised. Tailor Misbahu, a slim middle-aged man, routinely sews police uniforms, with an apprentice to his aid. When asked about his rates, the artisan is apprehensive, first asking if this reporter was a policeman. Another tailor close to the exit gate readily makes the outfits for traders who then resell them to “customers”.

Tailor Misbahu

Vendor taking consignment of uniforms for resale

Boot vendor at Police College Ikeja barracks
Meagre salaries, decrepit barracks
On September 7, the police special constabularies in Osogbo, Osun state took to the streets to protest non-payment of their 18-month salaries with placards reading “we’re hungry & dying”. In August, about 1056 special constables protested across Ilorin, alleging that the Kwara state government also owed them for 18 months. The NPF had hedged, arguing that their appointment was voluntary to augment community policing. It added that the officers were at liberty to disengage rather than wilfully embarrass the force.

Police protest in Osun
Basic Salary of Junior Officers | ||
Rank | Old Scale (₦) | Old Scale + 20% (₦) |
Recruit | 9,019.42 | 10,823.3 |
Constable – Grade Level 03 | 43,293.83 | 51,952.6 |
Constable – Grade Level 10 | 51,113.59 | 61,336.3 |
Corporal – Grade Level 04 (01) | 44,715.53 | 53,658.6 |
Corporal – Grade Level 04 (10) | 51,113.59 | 61,336.3 |
Sergeant – Grade Level 05 (01) | 48,540.88 | 58,249 |
Sergeant – Grade Level 05 (10) | 55,973.84 | 67,168.6 |
Sergeant Major – 06 (01) | 55,144.81 | 66,173.8 |
Sergeant Major – 06 (10) | 62,204.88 | 74,645.9 |
Conversations with serving officers reveal deep-seated frustrations. Without a sustainable salary, they enter debt and barely have enough to pay bills. Many are forced to extort citizens to augment their monthly pay. As members of the rank-and-file who engage directly with the citizenry, constables at level 3 earned ₦43,293.83 monthly as the basic salary before the new pay scale. A 20 percent bump leaves them at ₦51,952 in basic salary, an increase that hardly improves the current living standard of these officers.

A block of apartments inside Police College Ikeja barrack
The cost of reforming NPF
With the prevalence of insurgency, kidnapping, banditry, and organised crime making a pretty strong case for reforming the NPF to boost its capacity, President Muhammadu Buhari signed the Police Trust Fund Bill in 2019. The act establishes the Police Trust Fund (PTF) to be financed with 0.5 percent of the total revenue accruing to the federation account, 0.005 percent of the net profit of business firms in Nigeria, government grants, budget allocations, NGO donations, private sector aid, gifts of any kind from any source, and PTF investments. Also, the ministry for police affairs was created to re-tool the NPF, remodel policing infrastructure, and drive increased commitment to duty among officers by bettering their welfare and condition of service. Maigari Dingyadi, the minister, during a presidential briefing in mid-2022, said the fund delivered on its 2020 and 2021 budgets, purchasing vehicles, ammunition, bulletproof vests, and other accoutrements for police operations. The minister said the fund gave a “facelift” to police accommodation nationwide. But a juxtaposition of NPF’s needs and how much resources are provided mocks the burden weighing down on the force, so much that each state intervention could become nothing more than a quick fix. Security is in the exclusive legislative list, hence, policymaking pertaining to policing is a domain reserved for the federal government to preside over while individual states can only influence such. In Lagos, for instance, the chronic resource shortage burdening the force prompted the creation of the Lagos Security Trust Fund (LSSTF) in 2007 which can only do so much, since its funding is largely charity-based, where a significant economic shakeup that impacts the finances of private sector donors could cripple the outfit. In 2021, LSSTF declared ₦1.4 billion in funds from private-sector donations and spent ₦1.16 billion, but Abdurrazaq Balogun, its executive secretary, didn’t mince words in admitting to the force’s struggles. “There is a serious resource problem that appears to be unending,” he said at the 15th annual town hall meeting on security in Lagos. “We cannot continue doing the same thing and expect a different result.” He goes on to add: “Our security agencies require more equipment that will support an intelligence-led approach to crime prevention [like] drones, trackers, scanners at gates, and gunshot detection devices.” Balogun further stated that kitting one police officer with a uniform, a taser, police tactical gear, helmet, bullet-proof vest, push-to-talk on cellular communication equipment, rain gear and other accoutrement costs ₦3 million per head, hence, covering 33,000 officers in Lagos would amount to about ₦99 billion.

Five-year budget for police formations & commands
‘Funding gaps won’t go away overnight’
Osaigbovo Ehisienmen, an aide to the police affairs minister, explained that effort is still ongoing to furnish the force with arms and ammunition while renovations would still take their course within the six-year timespan of the PTF. He insisted the fund had already intervened in fuel supply for NPF trucks, and that citizens asked to pay mobilisation fees should report such infractions to the police public complaint committee (PPCC). “Also, at the divisional police level, there are mechanisms where you can lodge complaints. At the state, zonal, and force headquarters level, there are police public complaint bureaus there,” Ehisienmen said. “But you would agree with me that some of these things won’t fizzle away overnight. It will take a while and will come in the order of priority. We’re hopeful that the fund will generate the desired results.” That NPF is deeply underfunded isn’t in doubt. What is disturbing, however, is that citizens at the lowest rung of the socio-economic ladder, like Obute, would be bearing the brunt until reforms truly take hold.
Editor’s note: Some names, especially those of the officers who shared intelligence for this report, have been changed to protect their identities.
This is a special investigative project by Cable Newspaper Journalism Foundation (CNJF) in partnership with TheCable, supported by the MacArthur Foundation. Published materials are not views of the MacArthur Foundation.
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