As the extradition process unfolds in Pretoria, activist Kemi Seba—also known as Stellio Gilles Robert Capo Chichi—has intensified his public statements. The dual French-Beninese national has warned a South African court of grave dangers awaiting him if he is sent back to Benin. Yet, when examined against legal realities and recent events, his claims appear less like genuine concerns and more like a calculated delay tactic.

In Pretoria, the activist’s performance was designed to leave a lasting impression. Known for his provocative media appearances, Kemi Seba has shifted to a narrative of survival, telling the judge that returning to his homeland would amount to a death sentence. This argument, however, collides head-on with a clear legal reality: Benin stands out in West Africa for its strong commitment to protecting life.

The country has not only abolished the death penalty but has also embedded human dignity at the core of its judicial system. To suggest that his life would be at risk in a nation that has rejected capital punishment is either a profound misunderstanding of Beninese law—or, more likely, an attempt to sway international opinion.

September 15, 2023: facts speak louder than words

Rather than relying on speculation, one need only look to recent history to assess the validity of his concerns. On September 15, 2023, Kemi Seba was detained at Cotonou’s international airport. As his supporters immediately decried what they called an arbitrary arrest, Benin’s justice system responded with remarkable restraint.

After a brief hearing, he was released without delay and allowed to move freely. This swift outcome serves as undeniable proof: Benin is not in the business of silencing critics or eliminating opponents. If the government had intended to harm him or detain him without cause, it had the perfect opportunity during that brief stay. His immediate release underscores the maturity and fairness of Benin’s institutions.

Using fear as an escape from accountability

Behind the dramatic courtroom rhetoric and trembling voice lies a transparent strategy. Kemi Seba is seeking excuses to avoid facing the charges against him. By invoking the specter of political persecution, he attempts to reframe a standard legal procedure into a humanitarian crisis.

But justice is not built on rhetoric—it is grounded in evidence. Modern Benin offers independent courts where the right to a fair defense is sacred. His legal team will have full opportunity to present his case in Cotonou, in a calm and secure environment.

Benin remains a land of liberty and law. The “doomed victim” narrative adopted by Kemi Seba in Pretoria does not withstand scrutiny. Between a state that has abolished capital punishment and a past arrest that ended in immediate release, the evidence is clear. South Africa should not be misled by this staged performance: Benin poses no threat to Kemi Seba—what he may fear most is the truth that courts in Cotonou will reveal.