As DSS Demands Stiffer Punishment for Jailed Ansaru Commanders

Iyobosa Uwugiaren examines the decision by the Department of State Services to appeal the sentences handed to commanders of Ansaru terrorist group, and whether the judiciary is imposing punishments severe enough to match the devastating impact of terrorism in the country

The life sentences handed to two deadly senior commanders of the Ansaru terrorist group may have sealed one chapter in one of Nigeria’s most significant terrorism prosecutions, but they have opened another – one that could shape how the country’s judiciary deals with terrorism for years to come.

The Department of State Services (DSS) last Tuesday announced plans to appeal the judgement of the Federal High Court in Abuja, insisting that life imprisonment does not reflect the gravity of the offences committed by Mahmud Usman, popularly known as Abu Bara’a, and Abubakar Abba, alias Mahmud al-Nigeri. Both men pleaded guilty to all 32-count filed against them before Justice Emeka Nwite, who subsequently sentenced them to life imprisonment.

For the Toyin Ajayi-led DSS, however, the punishment falls short of justice. And the agency’s decision to challenge the sentence has revived a longstanding debate: Is Nigeria’s judiciary imposing punishments severe enough to match the devastating impact of terrorism in the country?

The controversy, especially the DSS’s current position, cannot be understood without scrutinising the terrorist group the two men were leading. 

Security experts are of the view that Ansaru is one of Nigeria’s most notorious and deadly terrorist groups, with ideological links to al-Qaeda. Over the years, security agencies, especially the DSS, have associated the group with some of the country’s most daring and deadly attacks. Among them was the July 2022 assault on the Kuje Medium Security Custodial Centre, where hundreds of inmates—including terrorism suspects—escaped after heavily armed gunmen overran the facility.

The group was also linked to the Abuja–Kaduna train attack, which left several passengers dead and dozens kidnapped and held in captivity for months. It has also been implicated in repeated kidnappings, attacks on security personnel and violent assaults on communities across northern Nigeria. To the DSS, therefore, the convicted men were not ordinary offenders.

Counterterrorism experts have argued consistently that leaders of terrorist organisations rarely carry out attacks personally. Their role is to recruit fighters, coordinate operations, raise funds, provide logistics, formulate strategy and authorise attacks carried out by subordinates.

 They do this in pursuit of a political, religious, racial or ideological cause. From that perspective, they are regarded as the architects of terrorist violence rather than mere participants.

Although life imprisonment is among the strictest punishments under Nigerian law, the DSS has argued that this case demanded stiffer penalties  Its strongest argument is rooted not only in the facts of the case but also in the law itself.

 Nigeria’s Terrorism (Prevention and Prohibition) 2020 Act prescribes the death penalty for certain terrorism offences, particularly where terrorist acts result in loss of life. Since the two defendants pleaded guilty to all 32 charges, many legal minds believe the appellate court would have to determine whether the trial court properly applied the sentencing provisions of the Act. Viewed from this perspective, the DSS appeal is more than an emotional reaction to public outrage.

It is fundamentally a legal question: Did the trial court correctly apply the punishment prescribed by the anti-terrorism law? If the offences admitted by the defendants legally attract the death penalty, then the appeal will focus not on whether life imprisonment is severe—it incontestably is—but whether it was the sentence required by law.

The DSS also pointed to events that unfolded while the two men were still standing trial. According to the agency, members of Ansaru kidnapped pupils and teachers in Oriire, Oyo State, and demanded the unconditional release of these same commanders. During the nearly two-month hostage crisis, the defendants reportedly abandoned their initial plea of not guilty, told the court they were undecided and, shortly after security forces rescued the victims, pleaded guilty to all charges.

The DSS believed the sequence was anything but coincidental. Even more disturbing is the fact that two teachers were beheaded because the government refused to exchange the commanders for the hostages. These are facts, which have reinforced the DSS’s contention that the defendants remained influential figures within the terrorist network even while in custody. And for the families of those murdered, beheaded and slaughtered the DSS has argued and rightly so – that life imprisonment does not adequately reflect the enormity of the loss.

From global records, Nigeria is not the only country prescribing severe punishment for terrorism. In the United States, terrorist attacks resulting in death attract the federal death penalty or life imprisonment without parole–conditional release. Saudi Arabia and China both permit capital punishment for the gravest terrorism offences; while the United Kingdom, having abolished the death penalty, imposes ‘’Whole Life Orders’’ that ensure convicted terrorists die in prison. Israel, despite decades of battling terrorism, generally sentences convicted terrorists to one or multiple life terms.

Against this international frameworks, the DSS has argued that Nigeria’s Terrorism (Prevention and Prohibition) Act—which also prescribes the death penalty for certain terrorism offences involving loss of life—was intended by the makers of the laws to ensure that those responsible for the country’s worst acts of terror receive the severest punishment permitted by law.

However, legal minds said that there is “judiciary’s dilemma’’–the debate is not as straightforward as it appears. Nigeria’s courts may not be permitted to punish individuals simply because they belong to a notorious organisation. Judges sentence defendants for offences proved before the court—not for every crime attributed to the group.

In other words, unless prosecutors specifically establish the defendants’ criminal responsibility for attacks such as the Kuje prison assault, the Abuja–Kaduna train attack or the killing of the Oriire teachers, Justice Emeka Nwite was legally bound to sentence only on the offences contained in the charge sheet.

That distinction lies at the heart of judicial independence. Security agencies often rely on intelligence accumulated over many years. However, courts, rely only on admissible evidences place before them and the law. It is this difference that frequently produces tension between investigators and the judiciary in terrorism cases.

Nonetheless, the appeal has become more than a disagreement over punishment. It is now a test of how Nigeria’s anti-terrorism laws should be interpreted. The Court of Appeal will have to determine whether the trial judge exercised his sentencing discretion correctly or whether the Terrorism (Prevention and Prohibition) Act requires a harsher penalty. Its decision will almost certainly become an important judicial precedent for future terrorism prosecutions.

But beyond the courtroom, the case has also highlighted the broader challenge confronting every democracy battling terrorism. On one hand is the need to protect society through firm punishment of those responsible for coordinating mass violence. On the other is the equally important obligation to uphold due process, judicial independence and the rule of law.

For many Nigerians—especially victims of the Kuje prison attack, the Abuja–Kaduna train attack, the Oriire kidnappings and numerous other terrorist atrocities—the expectation is simple: Justice must be proportionate to the injuries inflicted on victims.

Whether life imprisonment satisfies that expectation is now a question that the appellate courts will answer.

Whatever the outcome, the judgement is likely to define not only the fate of two convicted Ansaru commanders but also the future direction of Nigeria’s judicial response to terrorism.