Anti-People Government: Sad As Underaged Are Not Spared, by Isaac Asabor

In Nigeria today, the yearning for change has transcended all age boundaries. This push for a better future and for a government that genuinely represents the interests of the people has even reached the hearts of children, some so young that they should be learning about their country from textbooks rather than experiencing its injustices firsthand. The recent trials of underaged Nigerians who participated in an “End Bad Governance” protest send a heartbreaking signal about the lengths to which the government will go to suppress dissenting voices, even if those voices belong to children.

In the courtroom, where justice should ideally prevail, the scene was a somber display of the country’s current reality. Young Nigerians, some just entering their teenage years, stood trial for joining a peaceful protest, a peaceful protest that, at its core, was a cry for change, for better governance, and for a brighter future. These children, despite their collective naivety, were treated with a level of hostility that suggests otherwise. The incident is emblematic of a government that has grown distant from its people, indifferent to the cries for change, and willing to use the full force of its legal and political powers to silence dissent.

This crackdown on underaged protesters is just one episode in a troubling trend where the government continues to clamp down on citizens who dare to speak up. But this latest episode is especially disheartening. Watching children, Nigeria’s future leaders, being ushered into courtrooms for standing up against bad governance feels like an affront to our collective conscience. Some of these children fainted under the weight of the proceedings, a potent symbol of the emotional and physical burden being placed on the nation’s youth. A government that feels threatened by young voices calling for accountability has lost its connection with the very people it purports to serve.

The freedom to assemble and to speak out against perceived injustices is a fundamental right enshrined in Nigeria’s constitution. These young Nigerians did not come out with weapons or threats; they came out with words, holding placards that bore messages of hope, anger, and a plea for attention. They came out asking for change, for a chance at a better life. But rather than engage these young voices, the government has chosen to prosecute them, using the justice system as a weapon rather than as an instrument of fairness.

To understand why young Nigerians, including minors, are drawn to these protests, one must consider the challenges they face daily. These children have grown up seeing their parents and families struggle under the weight of a crumbling economy. They have witnessed how the lack of opportunities, rising unemployment, and inflation have made it difficult for even the most industrious to get by. They have felt the effects of poor infrastructure, substandard healthcare, and inadequate educational systems firsthand.

As they grow older, they understand that without systemic change, their future will be no different. Many of these children watch their parents return home weary from jobs that barely pay, their older siblings grappling with unemployment or low-wage work. They hear about the economic prosperity of other nations and wonder why their own country’s wealth remains in the hands of a select few.

For these young Nigerians, protest is not an act of rebellion, it is a call for help, a beacon of hope that if enough people come together, maybe, just maybe, those in power will listen. When the state responds by criminalizing this plea, it sends a clear message: the government is not here to listen, it is here to rule, to suppress, and to silence.

The Nigerian government’s treatment of these young protesters reflects a fundamental disconnect from the needs and aspirations of its citizens. Instead of addressing the root causes of their dissatisfaction, the government has chosen to address the symptoms. Yet, these young people were not asking for the impossible. They were not asking for lavish wealth or undue privileges. They were asking for basic things, a functional economy, transparency, job opportunities, quality education, and healthcare.

This crackdown against minors is not just a matter of government overreach; it is a reflection of a government unwilling or unable to address the fundamental issues facing its populace. The message being sent to Nigeria’s youth is clear: “Your voices do not matter, and we will silence you if you try.” But in silencing these voices, the government is only sowing seeds of resentment and frustration, seeds that, if left unchecked, will undoubtedly grow into something far more consequential.

Being dragged into a courtroom at a young age is traumatic. These children, many of whom may not fully understand the legal proceedings against them, are being thrust into a system designed for adult offenders. The experience of being tried in court can leave lasting psychological scars. For some, the incident will become a source of lifelong fear, shaping their views on civic engagement and deterring them from future activism.

When young people who should be in classrooms are fainting in courtrooms instead, one must question the values and priorities of a nation. The justice system, which should be a beacon of fairness, has been weaponized against its own citizens, including children. Such actions have far-reaching implications for how these children, and indeed, all Nigerians, view their relationship with the state.

Every democracy needs its young voices to be active and engaged, as they are the ones who will inherit the nation’s challenges and opportunities. In stifling these voices, the government is effectively stifling the future of Nigeria. A government that fears the engagement of its young people is a government that lacks confidence in its own policies and actions.

The fact that children are protesting should be a wake-up call. Rather than prosecuting them, the government should see this as an opportunity for dialogue. These young people are signaling a problem, one that, if ignored, will only grow. By criminalizing dissent, especially from minors, the government is deepening the divide between itself and the people it is meant to serve.

Nigeria’s youth are the backbone of its future, and they deserve to grow up in a country that values their voices, their dreams, and their desire for a better life. A government that criminalizes the hopes and dreams of its youth cannot expect to earn their respect or loyalty. True leadership listens to criticism, learns from it, and seeks to create an environment where all citizens can thrive.

The sight of young people fainting in courtrooms is a dark stain on the nation’s conscience. It speaks to a government that has lost its way, a government more focused on silencing critics than on addressing the very issues that spur criticism. This is not the Nigeria that these children deserve. They deserve a Nigeria where they can express themselves without fear, where their rights are respected, and where their future is bright.

In fact, the government must realize that these young Nigerians are not the enemy. They are citizens; citizens who want to believe in the promise of their country. The government’s duty is to protect, to listen, and to respond to the needs of its people, especially its youngest and most vulnerable. If this moment does not serve as a catalyst for change, then what will?

It is a call to action for the government to reflect, to reconnect with its people, and to remember the responsibility it holds. It is a call for a more compassionate, more inclusive Nigeria, one where young people can protest without fear, where the justice system is fair, and where every Nigerian, young or old, can have a voice in shaping the future of the nation. Only by embracing these values can Nigeria begin to rebuild the trust that has been so badly eroded, and only then can it hope to truly move forward.