By Okechukwu Nwanguma
In February 2025, Amarachi—a young mother struggling to raise her children—experienced every parent’s worst nightmare: her son, Victory, went missing while playing outside his grandmother’s home in Aba, Abia State.
In distress, she reported the matter to the police and informed her ex-partner, Frank Godson, the boy’s father. Rather than receive sympathy or assistance, Amarachi was met with silence from the father—and soon, persecution by the police.
On July 25, 2025, without any credible evidence or preliminary investigation, the State Intelligence Bureau (SIB) of the Abia State Police Command stormed her family home and arrested her elderly and sickly mother, Mrs. Grace Ama, accusing her of conspiracy to sell her missing grandchild. Amarachi herself was later arrested on similar unfounded allegations. This deeply troubling episode is neither isolated nor unfamiliar in Abia State.
Over the years, a disturbing pattern has emerged in the way the Abia State Police handle cases of missing children. Instead of conducting proper investigations aimed at finding and rescuing the victims, the police often turn against grieving mothers, accusing them of child trafficking.
The cases are typically driven by baseless petitions from estranged or abusive partners, and fueled by officers who either lack training or are motivated by extortion. Tragically, these practices are aiding, not combating, child trafficking in the state.
Indeed, the case of Amarachi and Mrs. Ama mirrors similar incidents in which innocent mothers who reported the disappearance of their children ended up incarcerated—one detained for nine days before the National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) intervened, and another remanded for six months.
These actions have had a chilling effect: many mothers now refuse to report missing children to the authorities for fear of arrest, detention, or prolonged imprisonment without trial. This silence creates a fertile ground for child trafficking syndicates to thrive, unchallenged and undetected.
The failure in Amarachi’s case is not just institutional, but judicial. The police obtained a remand order for Mrs. Ama without presenting any case file or credible evidence. When the matter was brought before the Magistrate, no investigation had been initiated into the child’s disappearance—only the detention of an elderly woman who should be considered a victim, not a suspect.
Thanks to the advocacy of NHRC, Legal Aid Council, and other partners, both Amarachi and her mother were eventually granted bail. But the damage is done—and a troubling precedent has been set. The situation also exposed a deeper legal loophole: under the current Administration of Criminal Justice Law (ACJL) in Abia State, police can apply for remand orders without recourse to the Attorney General, thus bypassing necessary legal oversight.
This provision is being exploited by police officers to arbitrarily detain innocent citizens and dump them in overcrowded prisons, worsening the already dire state of criminal justice in the state.
What Abia needs is not only police reform but legislative reform. The law must be amended to prohibit magistrates from granting remand orders unless such applications are routed through the Attorney General’s office. This will act as a safeguard against arbitrary arrests and detentions. Furthermore, the police must be mandated to refer cases of alleged child trafficking to the National Agency for the Prohibition of Trafficking in Persons (NAPTIP), the agency legally empowered to handle such matters. Anything short of this constitutes a violation of due process and a dereliction of duty.
The continued criminalisation of victims not only denies them justice but also erodes public trust in the police and judicial system. If the police truly intend to combat child trafficking and protect the vulnerable, then they must stop punishing those who come to them for help. Amarachi’s case is a test of our collective humanity—and a stark reminder of the urgent need for accountability, professionalism, and justice in law enforcement.
