Publication

On Oct. 24, 2020, Pelumi Onifade left home to work. The 20-year-old journalism intern was covering events connected to the #EndSARS protests in Lagos. He never returned.

For almost six years, his mother searched for answers. She attended hearings, submitted a DNA sample, and followed proceedings seeking to establish what happened to her son.

In June, according to The Guardian, a coroner’s inquest confirmed that a previously unidentified body tagged No. 1385 matched the DNA sample provided by Pelumi’s mother. His family is still asking for his remains to be released for burial, while the circumstances surrounding his death remain unresolved.

No family should have to endure this.

Losing a child is devastating. Spending years without answers or the chance to bury him deepens that pain.

Pelumi’s case is not only about death. It is about what the State owes a family when a person dies in circumstances involving serious allegations against public officers.

The African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights, enforceable in Nigeria through the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights (Ratification and Enforcement) Act, protects the right to life under Article 4 and human dignity under Article 5.

These protections require more than public sympathy. Where a death may have resulted from unlawful force, the authorities must establish what happened and ensure accountability where wrongdoing is proven.

The Coroner’s System Law of Lagos State, 2007, provides a process for investigating sudden, violent, unnatural, or suspicious deaths. A coroner’s inquest should establish the identity of the deceased and determine how, when, and where the person died. In cases involving deaths in custody, the law specifically requires an inquest.

Yet it took nearly six years merely to confirm through DNA that the body was Pelumi’s.

That delay is not a minor administrative failure. Evidence may weaken, witnesses’ memories may fade, and families are left trapped between grief and uncertainty.

Pelumi’s case also concerns the freedom of the press.

Article 9 of the African Charter protects the right to receive information and express opinions. Journalists give practical meaning to that right by documenting protests, elections, and other matters of public interest. When a journalist dies while carrying out that duty, and the truth remains unclear for years, the effect reaches beyond one newsroom or family. It warns other journalists that reporting may come at a terrible cost.

Justice requires the release of Pelumi’s remains to his family, a credible account of how he died, and accountability for anyone found responsible after due process.

Six years is too long for a mother to wait for answers. It is far too long to wait to bury her child.

The authorities must complete the inquest without further avoidable delay, establish the circumstances of Pelumi’s death, and release his remains to his family as soon as the law permits.

His mother’s request is painfully simple: Let us bury him. In a society governed by law, it should never have taken six years to answer.