By Amos Aar
The death sentence handed down by a Kaduna State High Court against Victor Solomon, popularly known as Zidane, has reopened deep wounds in Southern Kaduna and stirred a national argument that goes far beyond one courtroom judgment.
To many Nigerians, especially within Adara land, Zidane is seen as a man who rose in defence of his people during one of the darkest episodes in the region’s history.
But to others, including legal practitioners and security professionals, the sentence represents the outcome of a judicial process bound strictly by law and evidence, not emotion or popular sympathy.
The emotions surrounding the case are deeply grounded in the traumatic events of 2018 in Kasuwan Magani, a major market town in Adara land.
What began as a routine market day spiralled into violence that left farmers, traders, women and children scrambling for safety.
Homes were destroyed, livelihoods shattered, and the market, once a symbol of coexistence, reduced to rubble and silence.
The crisis took a darker turn with the reportrd killing of the Agom Adara, Dr. Maiwada Galadima, a first-class traditional ruler widely regarded as a voice of moderation and peace.
According to accounts shared by the Adara Express platform on Facebook, the monarch honoured an invitation from the then Kaduna State Government in the hope that dialogue would calm rising tensions.
He never returned alive. His abduction and subsequent killing marked a profound moment of loss for the Adara people, deepening distrust and grief.
In the same period, several Adara elders were arrested, further fuelling a sense of collective targeting. It was within this atmosphere of fear, anger and perceived abandonment that Victor Solomon emerged.
To many in his community, Zidane’s actions during the crisis were acts of survival in the absence of effective security.
“A defender was turned into a condemned man,” Adara Express lamented in an emotional post, questioning why unresolved killings, including that of their traditional ruler, appeared overshadowed by Zidane’s prosecution.
Across social media, similar sentiments have echoed loudly. On Facebook, a user identified as Hausawa described the judgment as selective justice, writing as he posted a picture of an unnamed man beside Zidane: “Both committed the same crime but received different treatment under the law.
“One is being rewarded with money and a royal title for killing innocent people, while the other, possibly because of his tribe or religion, is being sentenced to death for committing the same crime.”
Christie Agwu, reacting to the same post, framed the issue in stark moral terms: “Someone that defended himself is being sentenced to death. If the bandit had killed him, who will be sentenced to death?”
Kingsley Ishaya went further, comparing Zidane’s fate with government rehabilitation programmes elsewhere, saying: “They will even recruit some into the Army and call them repented, while this one defends his community. Make dem free this guy ooo.”
Yet, not all reactions have aligned with this narrative. Bello Abdul offered a different account, challenging what he called a one-sided portrayal of events.
“The so-called Zidane took a sword and went for the minority and killed hundreds of them,” he wrote, insisting that the case was not about kidnapping or simple self-defence but a communal clash in which many innocent lives were lost.
According to him, the conviction followed “a long period of court proceedings with a lot of evidence that proved him guilty,” and justice should not be dismissed simply because emotions run high.
Another commentator, Adeyemi Adegun, questioned the selective outrage surrounding the case, referencing other unresolved incidents of mob violence.
“I didn’t hear anything from your blog when Deborah was stoned to death in broad daylight,” he wrote, arguing that justice in Nigeria often appears inconsistent and influenced by identity rather than principle.
Faced with the growing controversy, the Kaduna State Government moved to formally address what it tagged as misinformation.
In a statement published by Tribune Online, the Attorney-General and Commissioner for Justice, Sir James A. Kanyip, clarified that Victor Solomon faced two separate criminal trials before two different High Courts.
According to him, the first case, bordering on criminal conspiracy and attempted culpable homicide, ended in Solomon’s discharge and acquittal in May 2024.
The second case, however, involved more serious charges, including culpable homicide punishable with death, and resulted in his conviction on January 6, 2026.
“There is no contradiction in the court outcomes being referenced online,” Kanyip said, stressing that the conviction followed “due process, full trial and judicial evaluation of facts and evidence,” and that the defendant retains the constitutional right to appeal up to the Supreme Court.
From a legal standpoint, Barrister Terhemen Ahua in an interview argues that much of the public debate misunderstands the narrow scope of self-defence under Nigerian criminal law.
He explains that for self-defence to succeed, an accused person must show an immediate threat to life, no reasonable alternative, and a proportionate response.
“The court only acts on the evidence placed before it,” Ahua said, noting that public outcry, assumptions or historical grievances cannot substitute for proof.
In communal crises, he added, killings are often deemed unlawful if evidence shows intent to attack or retaliate rather than defend.
In another interview, a similar position is held by Inspector Awua Michael, a detective attached to the Force Criminal Intelligence Department in Abuja.
Drawing from over 20 years of policing experience, he noted that while the law recognises self-defence during imminent danger, it does not permit the formation of armed groups or retaliatory violence once the threat has passed.
According to him, investigators focus on key questions: Was the threat immediate? Was the force proportionate?
Did the suspect act defensively or pursue attackers? “These distinctions are assessed based on evidence, witness accounts and forensic findings,” he said, emphasising that courts, not emotions, ultimately determine guilt.
What the Zidane case has laid bare is not only a legal dispute but Nigeria’s deep ethno-religious fault lines.
Public opinion appears sharply divided, often along identity lines, with justice interpreted through the lens of tribe, faith and historical grievance.
While the pain and fear that shaped Zidane’s story cannot be dismissed, the legal arguments advanced by the State, the courts, and security professionals carry greater weight within the framework of law.
In the end, the case shows a harsh reality: where the State fails to prevent violence, individuals step into dangerous moral and legal territory.
Sympathy may explain actions taken in moments of terror, but it does not absolve them under the law.
Until Nigeria strengthens early warning systems, security response and impartial justice, figures like Zidane will continue to stand at the tragic intersection of community survival and the unforgiving demands of the rule of law.
Hmm, what a pathetic story.
Sad one
Sad news