Ibrahim Mbaye was a student of the University of Jos. According to reports, an allegation of phone theft turned his life into a nightmare. He was reportedly beaten by fellow students after being accused of stealing an iPhone.
The phone was never found in his possession. Yet, before the truth could be established, the punishment had already begun. Mbaye, 25, was eventually taken unconscious to the Jos University Teaching Hospital, where he was confirmed dead. Three suspects have since been arrested in connection with the alleged killing, while the police say efforts are ongoing to apprehend others.
Mbaye’s fate was the latest in a disturbing series of incidents. In March 2025, the killing of 16 travellers in Uromi, Edo State, shocked the nation. More recently, a mob reportedly invaded a police station in Maraban Jos and set fire to a woman accused of child theft in Kaduna. These incidents point to a troubling pattern of citizens taking the law into their own hands.
There is something deeply disturbing about that sequence of events. An allegation becomes a verdict. Suspicion becomes evidence. Anger becomes punishment. And punishment becomes death. Somewhere in that chain, the most basic question is lost. What if he or she was innocent?
That question lies at the heart of Nigeria’s growing struggle with jungle justice. A person is accused of stealing a phone, committing a crime or doing something offensive. A crowd gathers. Tempers rise. Someone shouts, “Thief!” Another person joins in. Phones come out to record. Hands become weapons. Within minutes, the law is replaced by rage.
It is against this background that the Inspector-General of Police, Olatunji Disu, issued a forceful warning in a 14-minute video shared on the official Nigeria Police Force facebook handle on Monday. The IGP declared that the Nigeria Police Force would treat mob killings as homicide and prosecute everyone found to have participated in them. His message was simple, suspicion is not proof, and anger is not justice.
“Without ambiguity, jungle justice is murder. It is not justice. It is a crime, and the Nigeria Police Force will treat it as such,” Disu said in the video message.
He stressed that Nigeria operates under the rule of law, not mob rule, and that no individual, community or group has the authority to try, sentence or execute another person.
The IGP’s warning is particularly important because jungle justice does not only claim the lives of hardened criminals. It can kill students, travellers, traders, young people and ordinary citizens who happen to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Disu recalled cases in which innocent people were killed over mere suspicion, including allegations involving phone theft, mistaken identity, blasphemy and ritual killing.
The tragedy of Mbaye shows how quickly suspicion can become irreversible. Reports by the Plateau State Police Command indicated that suspects told investigators that Mbaye was suspected of stealing a mobile phone. Rather than reporting the allegation to law enforcement, they allegedly attacked him. Police said one suspect was captured in a viral video assaulting Mbaye with a large wooden plank. The case is now being investigated as alleged culpable homicide.
But the problem goes beyond one campus or one missing phone. It speaks to a dangerous shift in the way society responds to wrongdoing. When people lose faith in formal systems of justice, they may begin to believe that immediate punishment is better than due process.
Disu acknowledged the frustration over slow justice, rising crime and weaknesses in the system. But he made an important distinction: a broken system requires reform, not citizens becoming killers themselves.
The consequences, he warned, will not stop with the person who delivers the fatal blow. Those who plan, incite or encourage mob action can also become criminally liable. People who mobilise crowds, obstruct security agents, interfere with lawful arrests or otherwise participate in the violence could find themselves facing prosecution.
The message, therefore, is not only directed at the person holding the weapon. It is also directed at the crowd watching, cheering, filming or helping the violence continue.
There is also a responsibility on those who stand outside the crowd. Community leaders, religious leaders, market associations, parents and young people all have a role to play. A cry of “thief” should not become a death sentence. A viral video should not become a substitute for investigation. A rumour should never carry the power of a courtroom verdict.
The police, too, must rise to the challenge. Disu said officers were being trained to identify and de-escalate situations involving mobs, recognising that police officers at the scene may sometimes be heavily outnumbered. He also warned officers that protecting lives was not optional.
If the public must trust the police to stop jungle justice, the police must be ready, professional and decisive when lives are at risk. The fight against mob justice, therefore, requires responsibility from both citizens and law enforcement.
In the end, the story of Ibrahim Mbaye should not be remembered only as another tragic case of a young Nigerian killed over an allegation. It should become a reminder of how fragile life becomes when suspicion is allowed to outrun evidence.
A phone can be replaced. Property can be recovered. An accusation can be investigated. But a life, once taken, cannot be returned.
Justice must therefore begin with restraint, proceed through evidence and end in a lawful judgment, not with a crowd, a beating and a body.
If Nigeria truly wants a society where justice means something, then the first step is simple: when anger says, “Punish him,” the law must be strong enough to say, “Prove it first.”
Femi Moliki writes from Lagos
