Condemned & Forgotten: Inside The Lives Of Nigeria’s Women On Death Row
By JULIET EKANEM
WHEN Hope Behind Bars Africa released its latest study on women on death row in Nigeria, it peeled back layers of a justice system many already suspect — one that punishes poverty, marginalisation, and womanhood itself.
According to the study, launched in Abuja in collaboration with the National Human Rights Commission and supported by the World Coalition Against the Death Penalty and the French Development Agency, 70 per cent of women sentenced to death in Nigeria are mothers. Many are young, uneducated, and products of a society that failed them long before the courts did.
A Portrait of Desperation
Nearly half of the women on death row are between 18 and 35 years old — the prime of their lives. Over one-third never attended school, and just one in ten made it to tertiary education. Before their imprisonment, most eked out a living as petty traders or subsistence farmers — low-income occupations that left them economically exposed and easily criminalised.
For many, their stories began not with violence, but with survival. Poverty, domestic abuse, forced marriages, and coercion were common threads. The report found that more than a third of the women had endured gender-based violence, often linked directly to the crimes they were convicted of — from defending themselves against abusive partners to being manipulated into criminal acts.
Justice, But Not for Women
The justice system, the report suggests, often fails women from the very beginning. Three out of four had no understanding of the laws under which they were charged, and 85 per cent said the system was “unfair to women.” Many described confusion during police interrogations and trials conducted in legal language they could not comprehend.
The lack of female representation in law enforcement, prosecution, and the judiciary compounded their isolation. In a system largely dominated by men, the biases of gender and class quietly shape outcomes.
Some of the women were convicted for so-called “crimes of passion” — acts arising from domestic abuse or economic desperation. Yet, few were granted access to adequate legal defence or psychological evaluation, which could have altered their sentences.
The Forgotten Children
Perhaps the most devastating revelation lies beyond prison walls. Seventy per cent of the women are mothers, many of whom left their children in precarious conditions — with relatives, strangers, or in state care. Some children have dropped out of school; others have been pushed into early labour or child marriage.
These are the invisible casualties of a justice system that rarely asks what happens to the children when their mothers are condemned. “We are not just punishing the woman,” one rights advocate at the validation meeting said, “we are punishing an entire generation.”
Death Without Justice
Despite Nigeria’s unofficial moratorium on executions — the last recorded one occurred over a decade ago — the death penalty still casts a shadow. Hundreds of inmates remain on death row, many awaiting appeals that never come.
Dr. Tony Ojukwu, SAN, Executive Secretary of the National Human Rights Commission, described the death penalty as “a relic of injustice,” calling for a national moratorium and gender-sensitive legal reform.
“The death penalty does not deter crime,” Ojukwu said. “It extinguishes the possibility of rehabilitation. It strips people of their dignity — often people who never had a fair chance at life to begin with.”
A Call for Change
The study urges urgent reforms: abolishing the death penalty for women, expanding access to legal aid, and creating rehabilitation-focused sentencing alternatives. It also recommends nationwide campaigns to challenge the cultural norms — child marriage, domestic abuse, and gender bias — that push women toward criminalisation.
In a striking statistic, over 80 per cent of women on death row expressed belief in second chances. They preferred rehabilitation through vocational training or imprisonment to execution — a reflection of enduring faith in redemption, even from the shadow of the gallows.
“The Death Penalty Protects No One”
As Nigeria joined the rest of the world in marking the World Day Against the Death Penalty on October 10, the theme — “The Death Penalty Protects No One” — rang truer than ever.
Behind prison bars across Nigeria, hundreds of women await an uncertain fate. Their stories — of abuse, ignorance, and resilience — challenge a nation to rethink what justice truly means.
Because when justice becomes a weapon against the weak, it ceases to be justice at all.
