FIJ
Many trite expressions in Nigerian official settings are ironic. For the average Nigerian youth, a prime example is the phrase ‘bail is free’. A similar linguistic acrobatic is at play within the confines of the Ikoyi Prison. Boldly stated at the entrance of the registration is “Visit is Free”, but visiting without cash is akin to assuming the role of a chief clown in a wonderland. This observation became evident during my visit in December, when I encountered the officials begging and audaciously extorting the visiting families of inmates.
My experience as a visitor began at the gate, where I encountered a mild version of what awaited inside. Upon entering the unfenced premises, I encountered a yellow-painted security post with makeshift barricades of tyres and some uniformed personnel. One of them approached me and asked me what I wanted. Politely greeting him, I explained that I was there to visit a family friend. Immediately after he confirmed that I was a visitor, he asked me to “show him love” because December was a festive period. I was not startled because this same attitude is pervasive in many government establishments. Instead, I explained to him that I had no money but might reserve some for him after I saw who I was going to meet. He then allowed me to enter the premises, and I thanked him.
Because the man didn’t provide specific instructions on where to go, I assumed I could approach the prison gate directly. So, I headed straight for the gate of the premises. But just before reaching it, a casually dressed man intercepted me to inquire about my destination. Without hesitation, I informed him of my intention to visit someone. He probed further, asking if it was my first visit. After I answered him in affirmation, his beaming countenance betrayed a sense of satisfaction at encountering a first-time visitor. An opportunity, it seemed, for extortion.
This isn’t the designated area for you,” he informed me. “The procedures here are regimented, and you’ll have to follow due process. But you’ll need to settle me before proceeding.”
In response to his indirect mention of money, I handed him two N1,000 notes. As he pocketed the bills, he directed me towards an uncompleted room beneath a towering tree. In retrospect, I should have noticed the room upon entering, but its unfinished state and lack of paint caused it to escape my attention.
“See that room? That’s where you’re headed,” he declared, pointing towards it with his index finger. “And once you’re there, make sure to give my boss, seated inside, N500.”
