In the sweltering, humid theater of Abuja’s Federal High Court, we are once again treated to the latest episode of 'Nigeria’s Got Fragile Egos.' Omoyele Sowore, the perennial activist who seems to view a jail cell as a luxury timeshare, has been dragged back to the dock. The charge? Cyberbullying. Yes, you read that correctly. In a nation where the currency is doing its best impression of a lead balloon and the power grid is more of a suggestion than a utility, the state has decided that the most pressing threat to national security is a man with a keyboard and an adjective.

The adjective in question is 'criminal.' Sowore applied it to President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, a man whose political career has been so meticulously laundered it’s a wonder he doesn’t smell like industrial-strength bleach. Tinubu, the 'Jagaban' himself, apparently possesses the emotional fortitude of a wet paper towel. One might think that reaching the pinnacle of the most populous, chaotic nation on the continent would require a skin thicker than a rhino’s hide. Instead, we find that the occupant of Aso Rock is so wounded by a digital barb that he requires the full weight of the Department of State Service (DSS) to act as his personal safe-space monitors.

Let’s look at the players in this tragicomedy. On one side, we have Tinubu, a man who has mastered the art of 'winning' through methods that would make Machiavelli blush and then take notes. He sits atop a throne built on the shifting sands of Nigerian patronage, yet he trembles at the thought of a tweet. It is the ultimate paradox of the modern autocrat: they want the absolute power of a Caesar but the 'likes' of a social media influencer. If the word 'criminal' is enough to warrant a federal trial, then the Nigerian judiciary had better start building more courtrooms, because 'criminal' is the baseline description used by ninety percent of the population for their entire governing class. If the truth is a crime, the prisons would be full of everyone except the liars currently running them.

On the other side, we have Sowore. Ah, Sowore. The man is a professional martyr. He doesn’t just walk into a courtroom; he basks in it. For Sowore, every arraignment is a press junket. He feeds on the state’s overreaction like a vampire at a blood bank. One must wonder if he’d actually know what to do if the government just ignored him. He isn't interested in boring things like policy white papers or actual legislative reform; he's interested in the spectacle of being the man the state can’t silence. It’s a symbiotic relationship, really. Without the government’s heavy-handed stupidity, Sowore would just be another guy shouting into the void of the internet. The state gives him relevance, and in exchange, he gives them an excuse to flex their authoritarian muscles. It’s a circle of incompetence that benefits no one but the media and the lawyers.

The DSS, meanwhile, continues its transition from a serious intelligence agency to a high-priced babysitting service for the President’s reputation. They have spent years chasing Sowore around, amending charges like they’re trying to find the right filter for a selfie. First it was treason, then it was whatever else they could scrape off the bottom of the legal barrel, and now we’ve landed on cyberbullying. It is a pathetic downgrade for a secret police force. We’ve gone from 'overthrowing the state' to 'being mean on the internet.' It’s an admission that the state doesn't actually fear a revolution; they just fear being mocked. They are more concerned with protecting a fragile ego than protecting the borders.

And so, we wait for January 22nd. The date has been set for the 'definite trial.' In Nigeria, the word 'definite' in a legal context is a joke that writes itself. It usually means the trial will be postponed because the judge has a headache, the air conditioning broke, or the prosecution 'lost' the file under a pile of jollof rice. This is the hallmark of the Nigerian state: the illusion of motion without the burden of progress. They will drag Sowore through the mud, the international human rights groups will issue their templated press releases, and Tinubu will continue to pretend that the groans of millions of Nigerians are just the sound of a well-oiled machine.

In the end, this isn't about law, or justice, or even bullying. It's about the terrifying realization that the people in charge are just as petty and insecure as the trolls in the comments section. They have all the guns, all the oil, and all the money, yet they are still afraid of a word. If 'criminal' is a lie, why not ignore it? If it's the truth, no amount of 'cyberbullying' laws will change the scent. But here we are, watching the machinery of a nation grind to a halt so that a powerful man can feel better about himself. It would be funny if it weren't so profoundly exhausting. Humanity is a circus, and in Nigeria, the clowns have been given the keys to the armory.