'I BEGGED FOR BAIL, THEY GAVE ME PAIN' - CHINEDU AGU

A Poem by Chinedu Agu

On the twenty-third of September,
In the year two thousand and twenty-five,
My phone rang like a funeral bell,
Yet the caller said,
“Please come alive.”

They said the State had written my name
Inside a petition dressed in blame,
Mis-information Commissioner Declan Emelumba had lifted his pen,
And suddenly, my keyboard became a den.

Cyber bullying, they called the matter,
As if truth had grown teeth to chatter,
As if words, when they bite the throne,
Must be arrested, caged, and thrown.

So I wore my innocence like native wear,
Combed my courage, said a prayer,
And went to answer the police invitation,
Not knowing invitation in Nigeria
May mean detention with decoration.

I reached their office with humble face,
Thinking law still lived in that place,
But before I could say, “Good afternoon,”
Freedom packed its bag too soon.

“Officer, give me bail” I cried,
But justice looked away and sighed.
They said, “Sit down, we are coming,”
That Nigerian phrase
that means your suffering is just beginning.

Then came ACP Linus Nwaiwu, commander of the day,
A lawyer, they say, Trained in the lawful way.
But that day, the law wore bathroom slippers,
And liberty was locked behind iron zippers.

For two long days, I became a tenant
In a police cell without agreement.
No tenancy receipt, no landlord’s name,
Only mosquitoes conducting choir practice
around my shame.

They sang in my ears on hourly basis,
A national anthem in tiny faces:
“Welcome, citizen, do not complain,
This is Nigeria, bail can become pain.”

The mosquitoes were more punctual
Than the officers on duty.
They came in shifts, disciplined and witty,
One pierced my neck and whispered low,
“Brother, even we know bail is free,
But freedom here is not always so.”

I asked to call someone.
They said no.
I asked to see someone.
They said no.
I asked for bail again.
They laughed slow,
as if my rights were jokes
in a comedy show.

And ACP Linus Nwaiwu, learned friend of the Bar,
Stood there like a locked iron door,
Forgetting perhaps, in that uniformed hour,
That power is not law,
And law is not power.

Two days later, Twenty-fifth September came,
And they carried me forward in justice’s name.
Before His Worship Obinna Njemanze I stood,
Still believing bail was possible,
As every citizen should.

“Bail, Your Worship,” my lawyers prayed,
But the sun of liberty quickly strayed.
The court looked at me, then looked away,
And prison opened its mouth that day.

So, from police cell to prison gate,
My journey acquired a deeper weight.
I asked for bail, they gave me pain,
Then stamped my sorrow
with judicial stain.

In prison, I learnt a civic lesson
Not found in any constitution:
That sometimes, a man may not be convicted,
Yet his freedom is first evicted.

Then to the Federal High Court my lawyers ran,
With motion, affidavit, and legal plan.
Before Honourable Justice Joy Chituru Wigwe-Oreh,
Hope entered the courtroom,
But came out with weary breath.

Again, we asked for bail, plain and clear,
But refusal dressed itself in learned gear.
They said no information had been filed by the State,
As if the State’s delay
should become my fate.

Ah, Nigeria, my beloved stage,
Where liberty sometimes grows old in a cage,
Where delay can wear a judge’s gown,
And rights can be told,
“Please sit down.”

Bail is free, they write on walls,
But some police desks build hidden tolls.
The poor man hears it and starts to laugh,
Because free bail often has a transport fare,
Typing fee, table fee, and staff.

Bail is free, yet pockets bleed.
Bail is free, yet families plead.
Bail is free, but the station gate
Sometimes has a price list
written by fate.

Some magistrates, too, with trembling pen,
Forget they sit to protect all men.
If the State whispers, “Do not release,”
Some courts suddenly lose their peace.

Then come conditions heavy as stone,
Sureties with houses, cars, and throne,
Tax clearance, affidavit, civil service rank,
As if freedom must first
open a bank.

What is bail if no man can meet it?
What is justice if fear can defeat it?
What is court if liberty must kneel,
While power sharpens its private steel?

I do not write this merely to cry.
Even pain can teach if satire can fly.
I write so the cell may hear my song,
And the bench may know
when bail goes wrong.

For every citizen kept in the night,
For every phone seized from the light,
For every family begging at the gate,
For every lawyer told to wait,

For every accused person not yet tried,
But already punished, bruised inside,
For every magistrate afraid to be fair,
For every bail condition built like a snare,

Let this poem stand and complain:
I begged for bail, they gave me pain.
But pain, when written, grows a voice,
And silence is no longer a choice.

So let police remember, power expires.
Let courts resist political fires.
Let bail be bail, not ransom in disguise.
Let justice remove the cloth from her eyes.

Because one day, the cell will speak,
The mosquito will testify,
The weak will no longer remain weak,
And every unlawful night
Will ask the system why.

I asked for bail, they gave me pain,
But I came back carrying my chain.
Not to wear it, not to hide,
But to show the world
how freedom nearly died.

I write for time, I write for dust,
For ink outlives both sword and rust.
When my children grow and read this tale,
They shall know how I asked for bail.

And when generations unborn are sired,
When buried truths are re-fired,
They shall know Declan Emelumba’s name,
And the petition that lit this flame.

They shall know ACP Linus Nwaiwu too,
A lawyer who knew what law should do.
They shall know how access was denied,
While liberty coughed and justice cried.

They shall know His Worship Obinna Njemanze’s stand,
When bail fell weak beneath his hand.
They shall know Justice Wigwe-Oreh’s role,
When refusal deepened the prison hole.

Not for hatred do I keep this score,
But so the future may ask for more:
What did each do when justice bent,
And power dragged freedom where it went?

Chinedu Agu, a human rights lawyer, was detained by the Nigeria Police Force and released on bail after 28 days in detention. He can be reached at onyeokaiwu@gmail.com

‘I BEGGED FOR BAIL, THEY GAVE ME PAIN’ – CHINEDU AGU

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