At just 14 years old, Gospel Kinanee disappeared.
One evening in 2007, uniformed policemen swept into his remote Ogoni village in Rivers State and took him away. No charge, no explanation, no paperwork. His family searched for him, but Gospel vanished and got swallowed by the criminal justice system. And for nearly two decades, he remained invisible, a “ghost prisoner” drifting through the chaos of Nigeria’s correctional institutions.
Eighteen years later, on July 17, 2025, that ghost came home.
Kinanee’s story is perhaps the most disturbing among the 21 awaiting-trial inmates recently released from the Port Harcourt Maximum Correctional Centre during a court-led decongestion exercise. At the time of his arrest, he was a child. But the man who walked free this month was aged beyond his years. According to The Guardian, he was mentally frail, confused, and barely able to speak.
He had no case file, no known offense, no record in the prison system. For years, Gospel was not so much an inmate as a memory lost to bureaucracy. It took the efforts of Haven360 Foundation, a nonprofit that focuses on justice reform and mental health, to find and restore his identity.
A boy taken, a name forgotten
The details of Gospel’s arrest are as sparse as they are haunting. Witnesses say he had just entered adolescence when the police raided his community during a sweeping crackdown on suspected cultists. Gospel, quiet and bookish, was not known to be part of any group. But in Nigeria’s security architecture, especially in the Niger Delta, suspicion can be a life sentence.
He was taken to a holding cell and eventually transferred to the Port Harcourt Maximum Correctional Centre. But due to failures in documentation, he was never formally registered. No charge was filed. No trial was initiated. Gospel existed in the prison without legally existing at all.
His family, unaware of his exact fate and with no way to locate him, presumed the worst. For 18 years, they mourned a son who was very much alive but lost in the cracks of a collapsing system.
Discovered by chance
In September 2024, volunteers from Haven360 Foundation encountered Kinanee during a routine outreach program at the correctional center. Something about him stood out, his distant gaze, his disoriented responses, and most notably, the fact that his name did not appear in any official register.
Curious, the team launched an internal investigation, interviewing fellow inmates, reviewing neglected records, and petitioning authorities. They spent months following every clue, eventually tracing Kinanee’s roots to Ogoni and locating his family, who were stunned by the revelation.
It took nearly another year to cut through the red tape, including petitioning the Rivers State judiciary and presenting the case before the Chief Judge, Justice Simeon Chibuzor Amadi.
When the reunion finally came, it was tearful. His family embraced a man whose body bore the evidence of time and trauma, but who, against all odds, was still theirs.
Ghosts in the system
Gospel’s case is not isolated. Justice Amadi disclosed that two of the other inmates released alongside Kinanee were mentally challenged individuals who had also spent close to a decade behind bars without trial or charge.
The Port Harcourt Maximum Correctional Centre which was built for 1,500 inmates, currently holds over 2,500. Of those, over 500 are on death row. According to correctional officials, hundreds more are awaiting trial, some for up to 10 years. Many, like Gospel, are trapped by administrative inertia, poor policing, and systemic neglect.
The term “ghost prisoner” has come to symbolise a class of inmates who, due to flawed documentation or missing files, effectively cease to exist in legal terms. They are not convicted, not on trial, and not formally accused, yet they are not free.
Legal experts say the phenomenon is driven by underfunded investigative units, poor record-keeping, and overburdened courts.
“This is a glaring indictment of our justice system,” said one Lagos-based human rights lawyer. “There is no justice in detaining a person for 18 years without trial. It’s not only illegal. it’s inhuman.”
Calls for reforms
Justice Amadi used the occasion of Kinanee’s release to press for deeper reforms. He urged police investigators to conduct diligent, case-based arrests, not blanket roundups. He also called for state support in alleviating the pressures on correctional centres, especially regarding inmates with no charge or file.
His remarks underscore a growing concern: that Nigeria’s correctional facilities have become holding tanks for the forgotten, where poor Nigerians, often without legal representation, languish for years without a fair hearing.
Despite progress in criminal justice reforms, including the enactment of the Administration of Criminal Justice Law in many states, implementation remains patchy. The burden often falls on non-governmental organisations and a few proactive judicial officers to uphold justice.
The Haven360 Foundation has called for an independent audit of inmates in the state’s correctional system to identify similar ghost cases. It also recommended digital tracking systems and community-based paralegal support to prevent recurrence.
A future unknown
As for Gospel Kinanee, freedom comes with uncertainty.
He is free, yes, but he emerges into a world vastly different from the one he left. Technology has leapt forward. His friends have grown. Some are married with children. He has no education beyond the level he had at 14, and his mental health remains a concern.
The best news still remains, now, he is no longer a ghost. He is home.
