Sunday Jackson Sentenced for Defending Himself from Killer, Citizens Slam Tinubu’s Clemency Over Maryam Sanda’s Pardon

By Emmanuel Kwada

In the dusty farmlands of Adamawa State, Sunday Jackson once tilled the soil to feed his young family, dreaming of a future free from fear. A decade ago, that dream shattered when a knife-wielding Fulani herdsman invaded his plot, turning a routine day into a desperate fight for survival.

Today, at 38, Jackson sits in a dimly lit cell, his death sentence freshly upheld by Nigeria’s Supreme Court, a grim echo of self-defense twisted into capital murder.

President Bola Ahmed Tinubu

Just days ago, in the polished halls of Abuja’s power corridors, another story unfolded: Maryam Sanda, convicted of stabbing her husband to death in a fit of jealous rage, walked free after six years behind bars, her death penalty erased by presidential grace.

As social media erupts in a chorus of heartbreak and fury, ordinary Nigerians are asking a searing question: In a nation scarred by inequality, does mercy bend toward the powerful while justice crushes the vulnerable?

“My brother fought to live, and now he’s marked for the noose. She took a life in cold blood and gets a second chance, for her children, they say. Where’s the mercy for Sunday’s wife and kids?”

lamented Israel Markus, a teacher from Adamawa. His words capture the raw anguish rippling across the country, where these two cases have collided like thunderclouds, exposing fault lines in Nigeria’s justice system.

My brother fought to live, and now he’s marked for the noose. She took a life in cold blood and gets a second chance, for her children, they say. Where’s the mercy for Sunday’s wife and kids?

Jackson’s ordeal began on a sweltering afternoon in 2015, in the Codonti Forest near Numan. The young Christian farmer, then a 20-year-old student with a pregnant wife, was weeding his yam plot when Buba Bawuro, a Fulani herdsman, trespassed with his cattle, trampling crops and sparking a confrontation.

What followed was chaos: Bawuro allegedly lunged with a knife, stabbing Jackson in the arm. Bleeding and cornered, Jackson wrested the blade away and struck back, fatally wounding his attacker.

“I didn’t want to kill him; I just wanted to stop him from ending me,” Jackson later told investigators, his voice breaking in court transcripts.

The trial dragged on for ten grueling years, plagued by delays that violated constitutional timelines, judgment came 167 days after closing arguments, far beyond the mandated 90.

In February 2021, Justice Fatima Tafida of the Adamawa State High Court sentenced him to death by hanging, ruling that once disarmed, Bawuro posed no further threat and Jackson should have fled.

Mr Sunday Jackson is sentenced to Death by the Nigerian court for defending himself against Fulani herdsmen, while still awaiting, Maryam Sanda, who stabbed her husband multiple times has been granted Clemency.
What a Country!

— H I I K Y A A T O R (@HiikyaaTor) October 11, 2025

The Supreme Court, in a March 7, 2025, decision, upheld the verdict, igniting protests from human rights groups. “This isn’t justice; it’s a license for invaders to strike without fear,” said Emmanuel Ogebe, Jackson’s U.S.-based lawyer, who called the ruling a “horrendous miscarriage” that criminalizes survival in a land where Fulani herdsmen attacks have claimed thousands of lives, mostly Christian farmers.

The Christian Association of Nigeria (CAN) echoed the outrage, decrying “glaring evidence of discrimination” in a system that seems to shield attackers while dooming their victims.

Farmers are told to run or die, but running means losing everything

Across the country, Jackson’s story is no outlier. In Nigeria’s volatile Middle Belt, farmer-herder clashes have killed over 3,100 Christians in recent years alone, according to Open Doors’ 2025 World Watch List, with perpetrators rarely facing the gallows.

“Farmers are told to run or die, but running means losing everything,” said Mrs Andrew Bulama, a widow from neighboring Benue State, whose village lost 72 souls to a 2018 herder massacre.

For Jackson’s family, his wife now raising their children alone on scraps of inherited land—the Supreme Court’s gavel feels like a final betrayal. Appeals for gubernatorial clemency from Adamawa’s governor hang in limbo, a faint hope in a sea of despair.

Sunday Jackson’s Death Row: We Wept At the Failure of the Nigerian Supreme Court -Delvin

The Supreme Court had the opportunity to declare Sunday Jackson innocent but didn’t. He has become an international case for human rights, and we will continue to advocate for him.
Dr.… pic.twitter.com/nSTflMKC7O

— ARISE NEWS (@ARISEtv) March 7, 2025

Contrast this with Sanda’s path to freedom, announced October 11 as part of President Bola Tinubu’s sweeping pardon of 175 convicts. The 37-year-old mother of two had spent nearly seven years at Suleja Medium Security Prison for the 2017 slaying of Bilyaminu Bello, son of a prominent PDP chieftain.

In a frenzy over suspected infidelity fueled by incriminating WhatsApp messages, Sanda stabbed him multiple times in their Abuja apartment, including brutal wounds to his back and genitals.

Convicted in January 2020 by Justice Yusuf Halilu, she was sentenced to death by hanging, her cries of “Mummy!” echoing through the courtroom as the verdict landed.

Yet on Friday, Tinubu’s pen set her free. The Presidential Advisory Committee on Prerogative of Mercy, led by Attorney-General Lateef Fagbemi, recommended clemency based on her “remorseful conduct,” enrollment in the National Open University, and family pleas for the sake of her young children.

Sunday Jackson dies for protecting his farm; Maryam Sanda lives after gutting her husband. Whose lives matter?

Bayo Onanuga, the president’s spokesman, framed it as compassion: “A new lifestyle, a model prisoner, mercy in the interest of her kids.” The list also honored historical figures like Ken Saro-Wiwa with posthumous pardons, a nod to reconciliation.

But for many, Sanda’s release after just six years for a premeditated killing stings like salt in a wound.

“Sunday Jackson dies for protecting his farm; Maryam Sanda lives after gutting her husband. Whose lives matter?” tweeted user @HiikyaaTor, a sentiment echoed by thousands. Activist Maduabuchi Idam demanded parity: “If she walks for her kids, free Nnamdi Kanu too.”

Even allies like Denge Josef Onoh, Tinubu’s Southeast spokesman, urged a reversal, warning it “undermines the value of human life.”

Critics point to deeper rot: ethnic biases, elite connections. Bello’s family ties may have softened edges and a pardon power wielded like a political tool, eroding trust in courts already strained by corruption. “The husband died in vain,” one user mourned, capturing the collective grief.

If she walks for her kids, free Nnamdi Kanu too

As Jackson awaits a hangman’s shadow and Sanda rebuilds amid whispers of second chances, Nigeria grapples with its soul.

Human rights advocates like Ogebe call for urgent reforms: clearer self-defense laws, faster trials, and pardons blind to privilege. “This isn’t about one man or one woman,” Ogebe said. “It’s about whether we value every life equally—or let fear and favoritism decide who hangs and who heals.”

Read Also: To Save or Sink Nigeria? Tinubu’s Pardon Sparks Mixed Reactions