May Nigeria Never Happen to You: 26 Years in Prison Over a Generator

In 1999, Ogbonna Igbojionu was a 22-year-old man from Abia State with dreams, hope, and a life ahead of him. That life was shattered the day he unknowingly bought a stolen generator from one Segun Ajibade in Lagos. 

What seemed like an ordinary transaction turned into a tragic legal nightmare, one that would cost him 26 years behind bars at Kirikiri Maximum Security Prison, most of it on death row.

How it started

According to Ogbonnaya, he had no idea the generator he bought was stolen. After purchasing it from Segun Ajibade, he resold it, believing the transaction was clean. But just two weeks later, Ajibade returned this time with police officers accusing Ogbonnaya of handling stolen property. 

The arrest was swift, the investigation brutal. Ogbonnaya alleges he was beaten in custody and forced to sign a statement he couldn’t read. He wasn’t alone. 

A technician named Kolawole Oladeji, who had worked on the generator, was also arrested. Their trial began shortly after their arrest and dragged on until 2003. That year, the court handed them a sentence that stunned their families: death by hanging for receiving stolen goods.

Despite their insistence on innocence, their appeals were marred by misdirection. They were reportedly encouraged to withdraw their appeal in exchange for a promised pardon. That promise never came.

Meanwhile, a situation that shows the failures of Nigeria’s justice system, the man who sold the stolen generator Segun Ajibade was pardoned and released in 2016 by the Ogun State governor. 

He faded into the background while the men who bought and repaired the generator remained locked away, forgotten.

Social media meets justice

In early 2025, TikToker and social activist Olumide Ogunsanwo, known online as “Sea King,” shared Ogbonnaya’s story in a gripping video. The post quickly went viral, drawing public outrage and demands for justice. One of the viewers, Simon Oshi from Enugu, was so moved he went to Kirikiri to verify the story himself. There, he met Ogbonnaya, confirmed his Abia roots, and began lobbying for his release.

The case landed on the desk of Abia State Governor Alex Otti, who took immediate action. He dispatched the state’s Attorney General to investigate and coordinated with Lagos and Ogun state officials to push for their release.

How he got freedom

On July 6, 2025, Ogbonnaya, now 48 years old, finally walked free. Alongside him were Kolawole Oladeji and another inmate wrongfully convicted in the same case. 

A planned handover at the Abia State Government House turned into an emotional reunion as Ogbonnaya embraced his mother for the first time in 26 years. 

The video of that moment raw, tearful, deeply human quickly spread across social media.

“I thank Governor Otti for giving me another chance at life,” Ogbonnaya said through tears. “I never thought I’d breathe free air again.”

Kolawole Oladeji, who had merely repaired the generator and had no involvement in the purchase, echoed the same sense of loss and gratitude.

How the system is in ruins

Their case is just one example of a justice system buckling under its own weight. A young man loses over two decades for a crime he did not commit while the real offender walked free nearly a decade ago.

Worse still, Ogbonnaya and Kolawole’s case isn’t isolated. Thousands of Nigerians are languishing in prisons awaiting trial or serving unjust sentences.

In 2023, a report by the Nigerian Correctional Service revealed that over 70% of inmates in Nigerian prisons were awaiting trial many without legal representation or a clear timeline for resolution.

Ogbonnaya’s story, though heartbreaking, is also a call to action. It’s a reminder that justice delayed is more than just justice denied it is a life erased, a future stolen, and a dream shattered.

Governor Otti’s new beginning

Governor Otti has pledged to support Ogbonnaya and Kolawole’s reintegration into society. Commissioners have been tasked with providing shelter, employment support, and psychological counseling all small but necessary steps toward rebuilding lives lost to injustice.

But nothing can truly restore the 26 years Ogbonnaya spent in a prison cell, or the boyhood he never got to live. He entered prison as a 22-year-old youth and came out a 48-year-old man in a different world.

His story is painful, but it also carries hope that with enough outrage, compassion, and will, even the most broken parts of the system can be challenged. 

And that maybe, just maybe, no one else will have to lose a lifetime over something as simple as a generator.