In a move that has sent shivers down the spines of both the pious and the profane, a Nigerian court has served up a platter of four death sentences for the gents who decided that a Catholic church would make a splendid shooting gallery. Yes, you heard that right: the state has declared that for the crime of massacring worshippers mid-prayer, the appropriate response is to shuffle these chaps off this mortal coil via the hangman's noose. One might say they've been booked for a permanent appointment with the Almighty, albeit with a rather unpleasant intermediary step.
Now, I know what you're thinking: 'Biff, is this justice or just a spectacularly grim illustration of lex talionis?' To which I say: let's not get bogged down in legal philosophy when there's gin to be drunk and absurdity to be dissected. The convicted quartet, who reportedly carried out the attack with military precision – which is to say, they shot unarmed people until they ran out of bullets – have been sentenced to death by hanging. The judge, presumably after adjusting his spectacles and clearing his throat with the gravitas of a man about to pass the gravy, declared that the crime 'warrants nothing less.' Quite.
Of course, the response from the usual suspects has been predictably theatrical. Human rights groups are already sharpening their quills to pen letters of protest, arguing that the death penalty is a barbaric relic of a bygone era. To which I say: yes, but so was shooting people in a church. The families of the victims, meanwhile, are probably less concerned with the philosophical nuances of state-sanctioned execution and more interested in the simple, visceral satisfaction of seeing the perpetrators fitted for a final, very snug necktie.
What's truly remarkable about this case is not just the severity of the sentence, but the sheer efficiency of the Nigerian judicial system. In a country where court cases can drag on longer than a particularly tedious sermon, this verdict was delivered with the speed of a hiccup. One must wonder if the judge had a hot date or simply wanted to get home in time for the football. Either way, the message is clear: if you're going to commit mass murder in a place of worship, don't expect a drawn-out appeal process. Expect a rope.
Meanwhile, the political class has been falling over themselves to applaud the verdict, each one trying to outdo the other in their sanctimonious proclamations. 'A victory for justice!' they cry, as if they personally wrestled the suspects to the ground. The truth, as ever, is more mundane. The justice system did its job, albeit with a finality that leaves no room for rehabilitation, redemption, or the possibility of a sequel.
So where does this leave us? With four dead men walking, a community scarred by violence, and a legal system that has decided that the only way to deal with murder is more murder. It's a messy, morally tangled business, and one that leaves a bitter taste in the mouth, even with a generous splash of gin. But then again, the world has never been a place for clean hands or clear consciences. Especially not in Nigeria. Especially not when the church bells toll for the dead.
As for me, I'll be in the pub, raising a glass to the departed, and hoping that somewhere, somehow, there's a better answer to be found. But don't hold your breath. Or your gin.
