Tears in Minna: Families Demand Justice After Miners Die in NSCDC Custody

Photo: The Punch

When the Protectors Become the Problem

There is a particular kind of pain that comes when you send your son out to hustle — to dig the earth, to sweat under the sun, to bring something home — and instead of a pay packet, you receive a death certificate. That is the unbearable reality facing several families in Minna, Niger State, right now. Their sons, artisanal miners just trying to survive in this Nigeria that has made survival a full-time job, died while in the custody of the Nigeria Security and Civil Defence Corps (NSCDC). And their parents? They want answers. They want justice. They want compensation. Honestly, who can blame them?

What Happened in Minna?

According to reports from Punch, a number of artisanal miners — the kind of everyday Nigerians who scratch the ground looking for minerals to sell and feed their families — were picked up and detained by NSCDC operatives in Minna, the Niger State capital. These were not terrorists. These were not armed robbers. These were small-scale miners, the kind you find across Nigeria's mining belt, doing what they know how to do to survive. But they never came out of that custody alive.

Now their parents, wrapped in grief and confusion, are standing up and demanding that somebody — anybody — be held accountable. They are asking for compensation for the families that have been left behind. And as you read this, ask yourself: is that too much to ask?

The Agony of Grieving Parents

Imagine being a mother in Minna. Your son leaves the house in the morning, maybe he borrows transport money, maybe he promises to bring back something for dinner. Then you hear that government officials picked him up. You think, okay, maybe there's been a misunderstanding. Maybe they will release him soon. But instead of your son walking through that door, you get the worst news of your life.

This is not a Nollywood script. This is the lived experience of real Nigerian families right now. These parents are not just grieving — they are confused, they are angry, and they are scared. Scared because they do not fully understand what happened to their children behind those walls. Scared because in Nigeria, when powerful institutions close their doors, the truth has a way of disappearing.

One of the most painful parts of this whole situation is the silence. When families lose loved ones in circumstances like this, what they need most — apart from justice — is information. They need someone to look them in the eye and explain, clearly and honestly, what happened. But that kind of transparency? E no easy to find for this country.

NSCDC and the Question of Custody Practices

The NSCDC was established to protect Nigeria's critical infrastructure and enforce civil regulations, including overseeing the solid minerals sector. On paper, their mandate makes sense. Nigeria has a serious problem with illegal mining, and somebody needs to regulate the space. But regulating does not mean brutalising. Arresting does not mean endangering lives.

When people die in custody — whether it is police custody, military custody, or NSCDC custody — there are serious questions that must be asked:

• Were the detainees given adequate food, water, and medical attention?
• Were they subjected to any form of physical abuse or torture?
• Was there overcrowding in the detention facility?
• Were they informed of their rights upon arrest?
• Was there any medical screening done before or during detention?

These are not radical questions. These are the basic standards that any civilised detention system must meet. And if the NSCDC failed to meet any of these standards, then we are looking at a systemic failure — not just an unfortunate incident.

Systemic Failures That Keep Repeating Themselves

Here is the bitter truth: this is not the first time Nigerians have died in government custody, and if nothing changes, it will not be the last. From police cells to military detention to immigration holding facilities, the pattern repeats itself with heartbreaking regularity. People go in alive, and they come out in body bags. And then? Committees are set up. Investigations are promised. Press statements are issued. And slowly, the story fades from the news cycle.

The families in Minna are right to demand compensation. But compensation alone is not enough. What Nigeria needs — what these families deserve — is a full, transparent, and independent investigation into the deaths. Not an internal investigation conducted by the same institution being accused. A proper, independent inquiry with real consequences for those found culpable.

Artisanal Miners Are Not the Enemy

Let us also address something important here. Artisanal mining, while largely informal and sometimes operating outside legal frameworks, is a legitimate livelihood for hundreds of thousands of Nigerians. In states like Niger, Zamfara, Plateau, and Nasarawa, people have been mining the earth for generations. They are not criminals by default. Many of them operate in grey areas because the formal licensing process is either too expensive, too bureaucratic, or simply inaccessible to ordinary Nigerians.

The government's response to illegal mining should involve education, formalization, and regulation — not brutality. When security agencies treat artisanal miners like armed insurgents, we end up with tragedies like this one in Minna. Abi who gains from that?

Justice Must Not Be Optional

To the NSCDC leadership and the Niger State government: the eyes of grieving parents are on you. These families have done the brave thing — they have spoken up, they have demanded accountability, they have refused to let their children's deaths be swept under the carpet. The least the authorities can do is respond with honesty and urgency.

And to the rest of us Nigerians watching from the sidelines: this matter concerns all of us. Because any one of us could have a relative who ends up in a detention facility one day. We all have a stake in ensuring that Nigerian institutions treat human life with dignity and respect.

The families in Minna are not asking for the moon. They are asking for justice, for answers, and for some form of recognition that their children's lives mattered. As a country, we must ensure that they get exactly that — and more.