When President Tinubu recently granted clemency to 175 convicts — including over 40 illegal miners, around 28 drug traffickers, and several murderers — public outrage followed swiftly. The pardon list, released via a Statehouse press statement, cited “remorse, good conduct, old age, acquisition of vocational skills, or enrollment in NOUN” as reasons for forgiveness.
But for the NDLEA, the timing is bitter irony. Just days before, the agency had intercepted 300,000 pills of Exol-5, ampoules of pentazocine, and capsules of tramadol in operations in Niger and Kaduna states. In announcing the clemency, the presidency explained that drug offenders constituted about 29 percent of the 175 beneficiaries.
Critics say the pardons undermine the anti-narcotics war. Former Vice President Atiku Abubakar condemned the move, calling it “a dangerous signal to public and international partners” at a time when Nigeria battles rising drug use and insecurity. The ADC described the pardon as “pathetic” and an affront to the sacrifices of NDLEA officers. Barrister Dino Melaye took it further, saying it “wastes NDLEA’s efforts” and urged Tinubu to scrap the agency altogether.
Even civil society groups weighed in. CISLAC condemned the mass clemency as “legally questionable, morally wrong, and damaging to Nigeria’s image.” They argued that pardoning those convicted of drug trafficking, corruption, and other serious crimes sends the wrong message to international justice partners and demoralizes security agencies.
Meanwhile, defenders point out that the president’s power of mercy is constitutionally enshrined (Section 175) and historically used by previous administrations to correct miscarriages of justice or grant mercy. The presidency asserts that clemency is not automatic — convicts must pass through screening by a committee and receive presidential approval.
The core challenge now is this: if NDLEA is still expected to prosecute, convict and dismantle drug networks, how can those victories stand when executive power can wipe them away overnight? If the agency’s efforts are nullified by pardon, deterrence weakens. Public faith erodes. Investigators, judges and prosecutors may question whether their work is temporary theater rather than lasting justice.
Pardons may have a place in law — but they should never be left unchecked. Nigeria now demands full transparency: publish the criteria, list those pardoned with evidence, disclose the oversight process, and ensure victims’ voices are heard. Otherwise, we’ll find ourselves living in a country where laws are preserved on posters — and justice is dispensed on whims.
