Mercy must not mock justice: A call for moral clarity in presidential clemency, by Olabode Opeseitan

The President’s prerogative of mercy is a solemn constitutional power—not a casual gesture. Yet the recently announced list of 175 pardons has ignited public outrage, particularly over the inclusion of convicted drug traffickers and capital offenders. Nigerians are not unfeeling; they are simply asking: What message are we sending?

It is reassuring that the Attorney-General of the Federation, Prince Lateef Fagbemi (SAN), has clarified that no inmate has yet been released. The process, he says, remains under final review—a stage that allows for remedial corrections before any instrument of release is issued. This pause is not a delay; it is an opportunity. And it must be seized with moral courage.

The inclusion of drug offenders—some serving life sentences for trafficking cocaine—has deeply unsettled the public. It threatens to undo the tireless work of the NDLEA and sends a troubling signal to young Nigerians who are daily bombarded by the temptations of illicit wealth. Mercy, when misapplied, can become a mockery of justice.

But one thing is clear: no human institution is infallible. What defines a government’s character is not the absence of error, but its response to correction. Will it double down on a decision that offends public conscience, or will it listen, review, and amend?

We have seen this administration recalibrate in the face of public feedback. The proposed 5% fuel surcharge—originally restated in the Nigeria Tax Act 2025—was clarified as an old provision from 2007, not a new imposition. Its implementation has been deferred, pending economic review and public consultation. Similarly, in September, Nigeria suspended the 4% import duty levy following outcry from importers, businesses and the public about its potential to deepen economic hardship. These reversals show that the Tinubu government, when pressed by reason and reality, can adjust course.

This is another such moment. The AGF’s statement affirms that the door to justice is still ajar. Let it not be shut prematurely.

The optics must align with the substance. Clemency should be reserved for the truly remorseful, the unjustly convicted, or those whose rehabilitation is evident—not for those whose crimes corrode the moral fabric of society. Mercy must be principled, not politicized.

Let the final list reflect not just legal correctness, but moral clarity. Let it affirm that Nigeria is a nation where justice is not sacrificed on the altar of sentiment. Let it show that mercy, when rightly applied, can heal—and not harm—the soul of a nation.