Jailed At 13 Freed At 60 | Sojworldnews

A single accident changed everything for a young boy in Maiduguri. He was only 13 years old, hawking sugar cane for his father to help support the family. Every afternoon after school, he pushed a wheelbarrow through the city, selling cane under the brutal northern sun.

One day, while searching for shade, he brushed against a parked car and knocked off its headlight. Instantly, fear gripped him. However, his conscience held him back from running. So he waited. For thirty long minutes, he stood beside the car, ready to explain himself to the owner.

SEE ALSO: ICPC Uncovers 908 Ghost Workers, Recovers ₦942m From Payroll

They Die Protecting Others — Now Their Families Are Asking to Be Remembered

Unfortunately, the owner turned out to be a police officer. “Instead of listening, the man started beating me,” the boy later recalled. When bystanders tried to intervene, the officer pulled out a pistol and threatened to shoot anyone who came near. Then he dragged the boy into his car and drove him straight to the station.

That night marked the beginning of a nightmare. Officers locked the boy in a cell, and no one explained why. “The only thing we got was bread that was shared among us in the morning,” he said. Days passed. Then weeks. Eventually, one officer questioned why the boy remained there. A woman at the counter simply replied that “oga” had ordered it, and nobody dared question their superior.

After a month, the boy finally saw the inside of a courtroom. But the court never sat that day. Instead, officers placed him on remand, and from there, everything spiraled beyond his control. He entered Maiduguri prison, still only a child, and eventually landed in the laundry section. Meanwhile, the world outside moved on without him.

As the years passed, prison officials transferred him from state to state — first to Bauchi, then eastward, then westward, almost as though he were serving in a uniformed force rather than paying for a crime he never committed. Eventually, he arrived in Ibadan, and finally, in Kano. By then, decades had vanished. He was 60 years old.

Inside those walls, everyone simply called him “Baba.” Yet no one believed his story, since most assumed every inmate was guilty of something. Then, near the end of his term, a visiting governor noticed the old man during a routine prison tour. “Baba, come here,” the governor said. “How old are you, and what brought you here?”

For the first time in decades, someone actually asked. Tears fell immediately. “I am 60 years old,” he replied. “I came here when I was 13.” Prisoners and officials alike gasped, and even the governor wept.

Consequently, an investigation began. Officials soon discovered that the officer who imprisoned the boy had since become a king. Still dressed in his prison uniform, the old man was brought before the monarch, who reportedly lowered his head in shame and asked, “Will God forgive me? I made an Emir cry.”

The monarch offered a wife, a house, and anything money could buy. But the old man refused. “I don’t need a house or a wife,” he said. “My life is prison, and prison is my life.” Then he added one final line: “In this life and the next, I will never forgive you.”

Eventually, the governor secured his amnesty and even opened a small provision shop for him, giving him a modest new start. Today, the man celebrates his 78th birthday as a free man, though the 47 years stolen from him can never truly be returned.