By Okechukwu Nwanguma
Sexual and gender-based violence (SGBV) in police custody is one of the least discussed but most pervasive forms of abuse in Nigeria’s criminal justice system. Hidden behind the walls of police stations, countless women and girls face sexual harassment, exploitation, and rape at the hands of those sworn to protect them.
Unlike other forms of police brutality that spark public outrage, these violations are shrouded in silence. Victims rarely report for fear of stigma, disbelief, or retaliation. When they do, their complaints are often trivialised, badly handled, or buried to protect the image of the police. The result is a vicious cycle of abuse, silence, and impunity.
I have witnessed this cycle too many times in my years as a human rights advocate. Back in my early days at the Civil Liberties Organisation, one of the cases I documented was of a male officer brazenly fondling the breast of a female detainee. It was shocking, not just for its cruelty but for the ease with which it was dismissed by his colleagues. Later, at the Network on Police Reforms in Nigeria (NOPRIN), I heard testimonies during public hearings – some too painful to recount – of women and girls subjected to sexual violence while in custody. They were poor, powerless, and without recourse.
In 2014, as National Coordinator of NOPRIN, I exposed one of the most notorious cases: the alleged rape of a 31-year-old mother of two by the then Divisional Police Officer (DPO) of Onikan Police Division in Lagos, then Superintendent Adekunle Awe. The victim, arrested and detained at the station, accused the DPO of raping her in his office at night. Her courage to speak out should have triggered swift justice.
The Lagos State Police Command acknowledged the complaint, promised a transparent investigation, and assured that the findings would be made public. But what followed was the familiar pattern of evasion. Instead of being punished, the DPO was quietly transferred and later promoted. The case disappeared from public discourse. The victim was left to live with her trauma, while the officer walked free, rewarded rather than sanctioned.
This case was not unique. It epitomises a culture where sexual abuse by police officers is treated not as a crime but as an embarrassment to be swept under the carpet. The shield of institutional impunity emboldens perpetrators, while victims are silenced through intimidation, shame, or neglect. In effect, police stations – spaces meant to symbolise law, order, and protection – become unsafe for women and girls.
The recent case in Katsina State shows how little has changed. In August 2025, a Divisional Police Officer in Dutsinma, CSP Bello Gusau, was accused of taking a 15-year-old girl in police custody to his personal residence, where she reportedly spent the night.
An NGO, the International Human Rights Today Initiative (HRTI), led by Comrade Maiyasin, conducted an independent investigation, interviewed the girl and her family, and presented evidence confirming that she had indeed been taken to the officer’s house. Her father, understandably enraged, vowed to pursue justice for his daughter.
The Katsina State Police Command initially responded commendably: the Commissioner of Police suspended the officer and set up an investigative panel. The command’s spokesperson promised a thorough investigation to ensure justice. But Nigerians have reason to be sceptical.
Too often in the past, cases that began with strong promises ended with silence, whitewashing, or quiet reinstatement of the accused. The fate of this case will reveal whether the Nigerian Police Force has truly turned a corner or whether it remains trapped in the same old pattern of denial and cover-up.
The systemic failures that allow such abuses to persist are glaring. First is the weakness of accountability mechanisms. Internal investigations are often opaque, manipulated, or prolonged until public outrage dies down. Findings, when released at all, are rarely made public. Second is the culture of shielding perpetrators.
Instead of facing prosecution, officers accused of sexual abuse are transferred, protected, or even promoted – sending a chilling message to victims and a reassuring one to offenders. Third is the silencing of victims. Social stigma, fear of retaliation, and deep distrust in the justice system discourage survivors from reporting. For women and girls from poor or marginalised backgrounds, the barriers are even higher.
The consequences go far beyond individual harm. When police officers rape, exploit, or harass detainees, they do not just violate bodies – they violate the very legitimacy of law enforcement. They feed public distrust, erode the rule of law, and entrench the perception of the police not as protectors but as predators. Women, especially young girls, are doubly victimised: first by crime or circumstance, and then by the institution that should protect them.
Breaking this cycle requires more than token suspensions or internal inquiries. It demands systemic reform and cultural change within the police. Several steps are critical:
1. Independent Investigations and Prosecution: Allegations of sexual abuse in custody must be treated as serious crimes, not disciplinary infractions. Investigations should be handled by independent bodies, with findings made public. Where culpability is established, officers must face criminal prosecution.
2. Strengthened Oversight: The Police Complaints Response Unit (CRU) and the Police Service Commission must prioritise SGBV cases. Oversight bodies must have the resources, authority, and political will to act swiftly and decisively.
3. Victim Protection and Support: Survivors of sexual abuse in custody need more than sympathy. They need legal support, counselling, protection from retaliation, and avenues for redress. Without these, most will remain silent.
4. Cultural Change within the Police: Training and awareness on gender sensitivity and human rights are important, but they must be backed by strong deterrence. Officers must understand that sexual abuse will not just end careers but land perpetrators in prison.
5. Civil Society and Media Vigilance: Without sustained advocacy and reporting, many cases will simply vanish. NGOs, journalists, and human rights defenders must continue to shine light on abuses, amplify victims’ voices, and hold authorities accountable.
The Katsina case is a litmus test. Will the Nigerian Police finally demonstrate that sexual abuse by officers is unacceptable, or will they once again protect their own at the expense of justice? The outcome will send a powerful message – either to embolden other perpetrators or to deter them.
Until perpetrators are punished and victims see justice, women and girls in police custody will remain vulnerable, and the stain of sexual violence will continue to undermine policing in Nigeria. The silence must be broken, impunity must end, and the police must decide whether they will stand as guardians of the law or remain complicit in crimes against those most in need of protection.
