Two recent events have kept me awake through the night, turning restlessly on my bed as my mind wrestled with a haunting question: what truly drives a person to risk everything for a single act of crime? The thought struck me deeply as news about alleged coup plotters filled the media, and another disturbing story captured national attention: the case of a young woman who stabbed her neighbor to death in Kogi State after an alleged attempt to rape her. Humanity demands empathy even in the face of crime, yet my mind could not help probing deeper: what happens in the human mind before the unthinkable is done? What temptation, emotion, or illusion pushes one to cross the line of no return?
The Daily Trust report of October 28, 2025, detailed how 21-year-old Maryam Muntari, a nursing mother, allegedly stabbed her elderly neighbor, Ahmed Kalo, to death after he lured her into his house under false pretenses. The chilling account, his attempt to overpower her, her desperate struggle for safety, and the fatal turn of events—reads like a scene from a tragic movie. It is the kind of story that shakes even the most stoic hearts and reminds us that behind every crime lies a psychological storm: fear, rage, desire, or desperation. Yet as I pondered this, my thoughts drifted to the families: the wives, husbands, children, friends of both the accused and the victim. How do they sleep at night when life takes such a brutal turn? The psychology of crime is not just about the perpetrator, it is about everyone who stands in the emotional wreckage that follows.
In one of my earlier reflections titled “The Strongest Defence is Emotional Intelligence,” I explored how unchecked emotions often breed violence and tragedy. Scholars like Daniel Goleman have long argued that emotional regulation is central to human morality — the ability to feel fear, guilt, or empathy restrains our darker impulses. When these emotions are suppressed or distorted, crime often becomes the distorted outlet of unmet desires or festering rage. Indeed, psychologists agree that emotion, not mere reasoning, is the fuel behind most crimes. It is this same fire that may ignite both a coup and a rape — acts worlds apart in form but united by the psychology of unchecked emotion and subjective obsession.
Every human decision, whether noble or vile, begins as a debate within the mind, a silent contest between what we desire and what we fear. The mind, in its deceitful brilliance, tends to romanticize the imagined rewards and mute the possible consequences. Those prone to crime are often prisoners of their own one-sided thinking. They dwell so deeply on the ideal outcome of their choice; power, pleasure, fame, liberation that they erase the possibility of failure or ruin. As Aristotle once observed, “The energy of the mind is the essence of life.” But when that energy becomes narrowly focused on one imagined reward, it blinds reason and numbs fear. The risk-taker begins to justify everything like: “Buhari took a risk,” “Abacha took a risk,” “Great men act boldly” — until obsession replaces judgment.
In this state, the criminal mind becomes its own echo chamber. Criticism, fear, or doubt are treated as weakness or sabotage. The individual stops confiding in others, choosing instead to share plans only with those who mirror their illusions. They surround themselves with enablers, not questioners — people who reinforce their delusion of perfection. This psychological isolation, what Irving Janis called groupthink, is often the incubator of disaster. It’s how political fanatics, religious extremists, or even coup plotters convince themselves they are heroes of destiny rather than gamblers of chaos.
But objectivity that quiet inner voice that says what if? — is the most powerful safeguard against crime. The mind that pauses to ask, “What if I’m wrong?” is the mind that saves itself from destruction. Sometimes that voice comes from others- a friend, a mentor, a spouse. And often, it comes from women, whose innate sense of caution balances men’s reckless confidence. I recall advising a man who once used his neighbor’s belongings without permission, believing his intentions were harmless. When exposed, his shame was crushing. His wife’s first question was piercingly simple: “Why didn’t you tell me?” That question itself was a mirror — a reminder that fear, doubt, and criticism are not enemies of courage, but its most loyal companions.
The psychology of crime, as scholars describe it, is a tapestry woven from emotion, cognition, and environment. Some crimes stem from impulsivity, others from trauma or learned behavior. Sigmund Freud’s psychoanalytic theory sees crime as an eruption of suppressed desires; Albert Bandura’s social learning theory views it as imitation of observed aggression; cognitive psychologists see it as a product of flawed reasoning. Yet, beyond theory lies the living truth that every crime begins as a thought dressed in justification.
And so, while some are tempted to see a coup or an assault as a “necessary risk” or “moment of bravery,” objectivity whispers otherwise: times have changed, people have changed, and luck never lasts forever. The fantasy of glory fades in the face of ruin, and what once seemed worth dying for often turns out not worth living with. The line between courage and madness, between desire and destruction, is thinner than we think. In the end, it is not fear that weakens us, it is the absence of it. Fear, after all, keeps us human.
Bagudu can be reached at bagudumohammed15197@gmail.com or on 0703 494 3575.
