This is a guest opinion column

Twenty-five years ago, I sat in the jury box in a courtroom in Birmingham and voted for a man to die. The prosecutor, Jeff Wallace, asked me and my fellow jurors to convict the defendant, Toforest Johnson, of murder. Then he asked us to sentence Mr. Johnson to death. We did both.

After the trial, I went home and returned to my daily life. I did not hear about Toforest Johnson again for more than two decades. But then I started seeing his case on the news. The Republican former Chief Justice and the former state Attorney General are calling for a new trial. Celebrities like Kim Kardashian are calling for a new trial. Even the District Attorney in Birmingham has called for a new trial.

But one name jumped out at me from the chorus of people asking the court to give this case another look: Jeff Wallace. Yes – the very same prosecutor who stood in front of the jury, looked us in the eyes, and told us Toforest Johnson was guilty and deserved to die. He has publicly called for a new trial. He has said that if he had the power to order a new trial, he would do it today.

But Mr. Johnson remains on death row. Alabama is still planning to execute him. How can this be? And what responsibility do I bear? My role in the wrongful conviction of an innocent man keeps me awake at night.

Mr. Johnson was sentenced to death for the murder of Deputy William Hardy when he was 25 years old. I remember how young Mr. Johnson looked. And I distinctly remember that when the verdict was read, I could hear loud wailing in the audience. Now being a mother myself, I can only imagine that tremendous grief must have come from Mr. Johnson’s mother. At the time, I was comforted by my belief that my vote to convict Mr. Johnson and sentence him to death was right. Now my tears flow too.

Mr. Johnson has gone to sleep and woken up in a 5’ by 8’ cell every night for a quarter of a century. His children have graduated from high school and college. His two daughters have walked down the aisle and gotten married without their father by their side. In the final episode of Earwitness, a podcast about his case, Mr. Johnson’s oldest daughter Shanaye Poole described the compounding grief she and the rest of Mr. Johnson’s children experience as he misses more and more milestones in their lives.

I have always thought, and still believe, that our justice system is supposed to bring closure, but here it seems as though the tragedy only continues to grow. My heart aches thinking of the things I did not know when I was a juror. There was no physical evidence against Mr. Johnson and no eyewitnesses claimed to see him at the scene of the crime. I joined the other jury members in voting to convict based on the testimony of one witness, a woman who claimed that she overheard him confess to the crime during a three-way-call that she eavesdropped on. Our decision relied so heavily on this witness’s credibility, but now I know something critical was hidden from Mr. Johnson’s legal team for nearly 20 years: this witness was paid $5,000 for her testimony. It turns out that she was the state’s witness in many other cases as well, and we never knew about it.

This is one of the many reasons why conservative politicians, judges, the former trial prosecutor and now me and two other jurors are asking for a new trial. At a new trial, an informed jury can hear what we didn’t: all of the evidence. I am convinced and know in my heart that Mr. Johnson is innocent. But I believe a full and fair trial is the only way to prove it.

As a Christian woman, I strive to live my life according to the teachings of the Bible. Although I often fall short, the Bible is very clear about taking measures to help those wrongfully condemned to die. Proverbs 24:11 states, “Rescue those who are unjustly sentenced to die; save them as they stagger to death.” I am haunted by the possibility that Alabama may someday soon execute Mr. Johnson, an innocent man.

I have asked the Lord to forgive me for my part in inflicting so much suffering. I pray that Mr. Johnson and his family can forgive me too. In the meantime, I will continue to use my voice to plead for justice.

Monique Hicks lives in Prattville, Alabama.