…When Jungle Justice Moves from the Street to the Keypad

HOMILYFROMTHEPEW

I have followed the Anthony Kila controversy with considerable circumspection.

Not because integrity is negotiable.

Not because allegations concerning academic qualifications should escape scrutiny.

But because I am seeing a familiar and frightening pattern.

The emergence of another digital mob gathering around another human being.

On 16 August 2026, I wrote about Professor Jason Arday, the Cambridge academic who died amid what I described, without apology, as social media lynching.

A study of fifteen British news outlets documented 188 articles in the final nine full days of his life.

Another 136 appeared in the nine days following news of his death.

Three hundred and twenty-four articles across eighteen days.

And then the attention began to fade.

The human being had died.

The news cycle moved on.

Society, it seems, is only as concerned as its latest victim.

Today, Anthony Kila is in the eye of another storm.

Since 3 October 2026, investigations, news reports, commentaries and demands for explanations have followed one another.

His professorial title has been questioned.

Michael and Cecilia Ibru University has suspended him pending investigation.

His academic qualifications have become the subject of further scrutiny.

I do not know how many articles have been published about him.

But must we wait until the number reaches 188 before recognising the danger of a gathering mob?

Growing up, I witnessed jungle justice.

Someone would shout, Thief! Thief!

A crowd would gather.

Someone would find a tyre. Another would bring petrol. Someone else would provide the matches.

And before the truth could be established, a human being could be reduced to ashes.

That was the jungle justice of the street.

Today, the tyre has become a smartphone.

The petrol has become internet data.

The matches have become our keyboards.

Everybody can become a publisher, prosecutor, judge and executioner.

And the mob has no closing time.

At least some perpetrators of physical jungle justice have faced the law, including those convicted over the killing of the Aluu Four.

But who holds the digital mob accountable?

The Bible says:

“The first one to plead his cause seems right, until his neighbor comes and examines him.” — Proverbs 18:17.

What wisdom!

The first account may sound convincing.

The allegations may appear overwhelming.

The public may already have reached its verdict.

But has the other person been heard?

Even Adolf Hitler, had he been arrested and brought before a competent criminal court rather than ending his own life, would have been entitled to the presumption of innocence until the charges against him were proved according to law.

Think about that.

Even a man accused of crimes of such historic enormity would have been entitled to due process.

Not because the crimes were insignificant.

Not because justice should be compromised.

But because the integrity of justice is measured by the rights it protects, including the rights of the accused.

Why, then, do we so readily abandon that principle when allegations appear on social media?

And what about the double standards in our public conversations?

We live in a country where questions about the academic credentials of people occupying the highest political offices have persisted for years. In some cases, even their educational histories and former schoolmates remain subjects of public controversy.

Yet they have occupied the highest offices in the land.

Where is the same urgency, outrage and relentless demand for answers?

I am not suggesting that one person’s unanswered questions excuse another’s alleged wrongdoing.

But if integrity is truly our concern, why is our demand for accountability so selective?

My first newspaper article was published on 10 June 1988, when I was eighteen years old.

Since then, my bibliography has grown to thousands of articles published across different platforms.

For nearly four decades, I have participated in public conversations about society, institutions, responsibility and justice.

And one conviction has remained central to my approach:

It is not my place to condemn anybody.

That does not mean I condone wrongdoing.

I do not condone dishonesty, fabrication, forgery or any abuse of public trust.

But I distinguish between holding a person accountable for what is wrong and condemning the person as irredeemably wrong.

Accountability asks what happened, what the evidence establishes, what responsibility follows and how wrongs can be corrected.

Condemnation seeks to reduce a human being to the worst thing alleged against him.

These are not the same.

Anthony Kila faces serious allegations. The university has acted. Investigations and legitimate questions must continue.

But he remains a human being.

And I wonder how he is feeling today.

Suppose, without conceding, that every allegation against him is eventually established.

What then?

Must his life be destroyed?

Must redemption become impossible?

Must we demand his soul as payment for his wrongdoing?

He that is down needs no further fall.

And this brings me to friendship.

Scripture says:

“A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.” — Proverbs 17:17.

I submit that nobody who is truly Anthony Kila’s friend is presently on social media demanding explanations from him or publicly chastising him.

His true friends are reaching him privately.

They are asking:

Anthony, how are you?

What happened?

What do we do now?

Where do we go from here?

They are not offering to cover up wrongdoing. That would be complicity, not friendship.

They are holding him accountable without condemning him, because they are concerned first about his soul, his wellbeing and his restoration.

There will be time for correction, restitution and consequences where wrongdoing is established.

But friendship does not wait until adversity has passed before showing up.

As the saying goes, chase away the fox before disciplining the chicken.

And to those demanding that Kila immediately answer every question publicly, I ask:

Is responding through counsel no longer a legitimate option?

Does a man lose his right to choose how and when to respond because social media demands an immediate performance?

Does a delayed response automatically establish guilt?

James 1:19 counsels us to be swift to hear, slow to speak and slow to wrath.

Christ asks:

“He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone.” — John 8:7.

And to the woman facing condemnation, He says:

“Neither do I condemn thee.” — John 8:11.

Who among us has no personal struggles, no failures, no matters for which we would plead for mercy if they became public?

The empathy we deny another today may be the empathy we desperately need tomorrow.

Even those who acknowledge grave wrongdoing still plead for mercy.

Why should empathy become a privilege reserved only for those whose innocence has been established?

Let Anthony Kila breathe.

Let the institutions investigate.

Let the truth emerge.

Let accountability take its lawful course.

And let his friends be friends.

I am not asking society to abandon integrity.

I am asking society to abandon cruelty masquerading as integrity.

Because the real test before us is not simply whether Anthony Kila can defend his credentials.

It is whether we can defend our values without destroying our humanity.

And if our pursuit of integrity leaves another human being broken beyond restoration, we must ask ourselves:

What exactly have we protected?

Follower of Christ. Husband. Father.
Egalitarian. Goodwill Investor. Attorney.
Author. Thriver. Culture-Edge Family Strengthening and Child Safeguarding Pioneer, Innovator and Practitioner. Value-Based Parenting Ideologue.
Change Agent. Rebel with a Cause.
Three Decades in the Saddle.