I. INTRODUCTION: A LIFE SENTENCE IN A COUNTRY ON TRIAL
On Thursday, November 20, 2025, the atmosphere inside the Federal High Court in Abuja was heavy with the weight of history. Security operatives from the Department of State Services (DSS) lined the perimeter, their presence a physical reminder of the high stakes involved. Inside, Justice James Omotosho delivered a judgment that would reverberate far beyond the courtroom walls: Mazi Nnamdi Kanu, the polarising leader of the Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB), was sentenced to life imprisonment on seven counts of terrorism.¹
To the Nigerian state, this verdict was the necessary assertion of authority over a man accused of turning a political agitation into a campaign of bloodshed. To his millions of supporters across the South-East and in the diaspora, it was the criminalisation of self-determination and the silencing of a figure they regard not as a terrorist, but as a "freedom fighter" and prophet.²
The ruling did not merely close a criminal trial; it tore open the scabs of a 50-year-old wound. It re-opened long-standing questions about how Nigeria treats dissent, how it manages separatist demands, and whether its judiciary has become a tool for political suppression. As the news spread, markets in Aba and Onitsha shuttered in fearful anticipation, and the nation braced for the fallout.
II. THE CASE AGAINST KANU: TERRORISM, BROADCASTS, AND SIT‑AT‑HOME ORDERS
In Justice Omotosho's courtroom, the prosecution painted a picture of Nnamdi Kanu not as a political activist, but as the mastermind of a violent insurrection. The state’s case rested on the argument that Kanu’s words were weapons—that his broadcasts from London were the direct cause of the killings and anarchy that have gripped the South-East.
Key Elements of the Prosecution's Case
From the state’s perspective, the heart of the case lay in the claim that Kanu’s words, broadcasts, and leadership decisions were not merely political speech but active orchestration of violence. Prosecutors played hours of recorded broadcasts in which Kanu allegedly described Nigerian security agents as "enemies" and "animals in a zoo," and urged his followers to "hunt them down."¹ ³ These recordings, in the prosecution’s telling, transformed rhetoric into incitement and helped to create an atmosphere in which violence against state agents became normalized.
The state also sought to link Kanu directly to the sit‑at‑home orders that have periodically paralysed economic life in the South‑East. According to their argument, these directives were not simple calls for peaceful civil disobedience, but were enforced through fear and violence, with traders, transporters, and students who disobeyed allegedly facing harassment or even lethal attacks. In addition, central to the terrorism counts was the allegation that Kanu continued to lead IPOB after its proscription in 2017 and exercised effective control over the Eastern Security Network (ESN), regarded by the state as the movement’s armed wing. By maintaining this leadership role, the prosecution argued, he bore criminal responsibility for violent operations attributed to ESN cells.
Justice Omotosho ultimately agreed with the prosecution that, taken together, these elements placed Kanu’s conduct within the scope of Nigeria’s terrorism laws. At the same time, the path to that conclusion was marked by contested procedures and unresolved questions about evidence, jurisdiction, and fair hearing that continue to animate legal and political debate.
The "Strategic Suicide" Insight
The turning point of the trial was not a single piece of evidence, but a decision about how—or whether—to engage with the process. After the court overruled their "No Case Submission," Kanu’s legal team withdrew in protest, citing a lack of fair hearing. In subsequent appearances, Kanu told the court that there was "no valid charge" pending against him, repeatedly asking the Judge to "show [him] the law" under which he was being tried and insisting that, because the old terrorism law had been repealed, the case should end.¹⁴ ¹⁵ He declined to call witnesses or present a conventional defence, not because he was mute, but because he treated the entire proceeding as legally defective.
This stance, intended by Kanu and his supporters as a principled rejection of what they described as an illegitimate trial, has been characterised by some analysts as a form of strategic suicide. Justice Omotosho treated the absence of a formal defence not as a political gesture but as a procedural choice with legal consequences. By refusing to call witnesses or cross‑examine the state’s evidence, the defence effectively allowed the prosecution’s narrative to stand without formal challenge. The Judge ruled that the evidence before him was "uncontroverted," a conclusion that, in practical terms, turned what might have been a complex terrorism trial into a largely one‑sided proceeding, even though Kanu continued to voice objections from the dock.
The Burden of Proof Paradox: Silence vs. Speculation
However, several legal commentators have argued that the judgment raises difficult questions about how far a court may go in treating unchallenged evidence as conclusive. In criminal law, the burden of proof is generally understood to rest on the prosecution throughout; it does not automatically shift simply because the defence chooses silence. Even if no witness enters the defence box, the judge is still expected to test whether the state’s case is definitive or merely speculative, and whether the evidence meets the high standard required for a conviction that carries a life sentence.
Critics of the judgment suggest that a court cannot safely convict on "speculation" or inference alone, even in the face of a non‑participating defendant, and that silence does not by itself cure gaps or weaknesses in the state’s case. Supporters of the judgment respond that, in the circumstances of this trial, the prosecution had placed sufficient material before the court and that the defence, by refusing to engage, accepted the risk that the evidence would be treated as uncontroverted. The tension between these views is likely to feature prominently if and when the case is tested before appellate or regional courts, which may be asked to decide whether the handling of the burden of proof in this instance strengthened or weakened public confidence in the justice system.
The "Cannibalism" Evidence Gap
This legal paradox is most visible—and, to many observers, most disturbing—in the court's treatment of sensational testimony from a DSS officer (PW4). The witness claimed, under oath, that Kanu ordered "2,000 human heads" for the burial of an ESN commander and that IPOB members engaged in cannibalism.
Under Sections 131 and 135 of the Evidence Act 2011, extraordinary criminal allegations are generally expected to be backed by proof beyond reasonable doubt, which in serious violent‑crime cases typically means some form of forensic corroboration—autopsy reports, DNA analysis, photographs, or other physical evidence. In this instance, the court is reported to have relied primarily on the testimony of an intelligence officer who said he heard the account from a captured subordinate commander, without the sort of independent corroboration that many practitioners would look for in a case of this gravity. Those who are uneasy with the judgment argue that validating such extreme claims without visible forensic inquiry, even in the face of defence silence, risks creating a precedent in which very serious sentences can be grounded on narratives that are not fully tested. Others counter that intelligence‑driven terrorism cases often involve evidentiary constraints and that courts must balance ideal standards with the realities of trying clandestine organisations. How higher courts and international observers interpret this balance will have implications not only for Kanu’s case but for future terrorism prosecutions in Nigeria.
III. THE DEFENCE'S OBJECTIONS: RENDITION, REPEALED LAWS, AND FAIR HEARING
Even before the judgment, the trial was marred by fundamental legal objections that strike at the heart of Nigeria’s constitutional order.
1. Extraordinary Rendition and International Comity
Kanu was arrested in Kenya in June 2021 and brought back to Nigeria in what has been widely described as an extraordinary rendition—a forced transfer without extradition proceedings. A Kenyan High Court later ruled that this seizure violated Kanu’s fundamental human rights and ordered compensation.⁴
Kanu's lawyers argued that this illegality stripped the Nigerian court of jurisdiction. By proceeding with the trial, the Nigerian judiciary has effectively ignored the judgment of a fellow African nation. This violation of international comity and the reciprocity of law raises questions about how Nigeria balances its security interests with the sovereignty and judicial findings of its neighbours.
2. The "Savings Clause" Technicality
One of the most contested legal questions in the trial was whether Kanu could still be tried under the Terrorism (Prevention) (Amendment) Act 2013, given that it had been repealed and replaced by the Terrorism (Prevention and Prohibition) Act 2022. The defence argued that once Parliament passed the 2022 Act, the 2013 statute became a "dead law" and that any conviction grounded on its provisions would be a nullity.⁵ They pointed out that Justice Binta Nyako had handled earlier phases of the case from 2015, but that Justice Omotosho only took over in 2025 and ordered that the matter begin afresh, raising the question of whether a "fresh" trial could still benefit from a savings clause intended for proceedings already in existence when the new law came into force.
Justice Omotosho rejected this line of argument, citing Section 98(3) of the 2022 Act, the so‑called savings clause, which provides that the repeal of the old Act does not invalidate things previously done under it—such as arrests, filed charges, and seized exhibits. In his view, Kanu's prosecution was a continuation of an existing process, not a wholly new case, and could therefore validly proceed on the basis of charges framed under the 2013 Act.
However, the defence and legal critics have pointed to Section 97 of the same 2022 Act, which states in mandatory language: "Any investigation, trial or any other legal proceedings commenced under the repealed Act shall… be continued and completed under the provisions of this Act…"¹⁶ This provision, which uses the word "shall" rather than "may," appears to mandate that ongoing proceedings must migrate to the 2022 Act, not continue under the repealed 2013 Act. Critics argue that Justice Omotosho's reliance on Section 98(3) while ignoring the mandatory directive in Section 97 represents a selective reading of the statute that contradicts the legislature's clear intent. They contend that Section 97 and Section 98(3) are complementary: Section 97 mandates migration to the new law, while Section 98(3) preserves the validity of steps taken before the transition. The court's interpretation, which treated these provisions as allowing continuation under the old law, has been described by some legal commentators as a form of "statutory vandalism" that ignores the clear structure and intent of the 2022 Act.
Legal commentators are divided on how far that reasoning should extend. One school of thought holds that once a court orders that a matter "start de novo" before a different judge, it effectively becomes a new proceeding, such that a savings clause drafted in general terms should be read narrowly. From this perspective, continuing to apply a repealed Act in a trial that has formally restarted years after a new statute took effect risks undermining the principle that people should be tried only under laws currently in force. Another school emphasises continuity: they argue that the underlying offences, investigations, and charge history all trace back to the original arraignment, so that the case remains "pending" for the purposes of Section 98, even if the judge or procedural posture changes part‑way through. In their view, savings clauses are designed precisely to prevent complex prosecutions from collapsing whenever Parliament updates a statute.
Because there is, as yet, no definitive Supreme Court pronouncement grappling with this exact factual scenario—a terrorism case begun under one Act, interrupted by rendition and appellate decisions, then restarted after a new Act comes into force—these interpretations remain in tension. How higher courts ultimately resolve the meaning and limits of Section 98 will shape not only Kanu’s appeal but also the handling of other long‑running terrorism prosecutions in Nigeria.
3. Fair Hearing and the Contested Defence
On the question of fair hearing, the court took the view that Kanu’s refusal to present a conventional defence amounted to a voluntary waiver of his right to call witnesses and tender evidence. From this standpoint, once the judge had ruled that the court possessed jurisdiction and that the charges were valid, it was open to the accused either to engage with the process or to accept the legal consequences of non‑participation.
Kanu and his supporters offer a very different account. They argue that his insistence on questioning the legal basis of the charges—and his repeated demand that the court identify the specific law under which he was being tried—was not a waiver of fair hearing but an attempt to assert it. In their view, proceeding to judgment without resolving those threshold questions, and while earlier decisions on rendition and civil rights remained partially unaddressed, meant that the formal opportunity to defend himself did not translate into a genuinely fair trial. Neutral legal analysts note that this clash of perspectives raises a broader issue for Nigeria’s justice system: how to handle defendants who contest jurisdiction and legal foundations in politically sensitive cases, without either rewarding obstruction or appearing to punish principled legal dissent.
IV. A JUDICIAL PING‑PONG: THE BATTLE FOR PRECEDENT
The road to this life sentence was paved with conflicting judgments, creating a chaotic legal history that reflects the Nigerian state's struggle to handle the Kanu question.
1. The Early Federal High Court Arraignments
Kanu’s legal odyssey began at the Federal High Court, Abuja, where he was first arraigned in 2015 on charges including treasonable felony, managing an unlawful society, and belonging to a proscribed organisation. Over multiple amendments of the charge sheet, the Federal Government piled on counts that tied his broadcasts and IPOB activities to alleged plots to secede and overthrow the Nigerian state. At each stage, his lawyers challenged the competence of the charges and the jurisdiction of the court, arguing that many of the alleged offences were either unknown to law or improperly framed.
2. The 2017 Bail and the Raid on Afaraukwu
In April 2017, Justice Binta Nyako of the Federal High Court granted Kanu bail on health grounds, subject to stringent conditions: high-profile sureties, restrictions on public speaking, and a prohibition on attending gatherings of more than ten people.⁸
Later that year, in September 2017, the Nigerian military launched Operation Python Dance II in the South-East. Soldiers raided Kanu’s family home in Afaraukwu, Umuahia. Amnesty International’s report, "Bullets Were Raining Everywhere," documented the use of excessive lethal force, with IPOB claiming that around 28 supporters were killed in the assault.⁸ Kanu disappeared after the raid.
The Federal Government's position is that he "jumped bail", violated his conditions, and fled the country. His lawyers counter that he fled an assassination attempt, that his sureties could not guarantee his appearance in the face of lethal force, and that he later communicated from Israel to explain that he left Nigeria to save his life after the military invasion. These conflicting narratives—"fugitive from justice" vs. "survivor of state assassination"—remain politically charged and have never been fully resolved in a transparent fact-finding process.
3. The Abia State High Court Fundamental Rights Case
Parallel to the federal criminal trial, Kanu’s team turned to the Abia State High Court in Umuahia to challenge the legality of his treatment by the Nigerian state. In January 2022, Justice Benson Anya delivered a landmark judgment in Suit No. HU/202/2021, a fundamental rights action brought on Kanu’s behalf.
In its judgment, the court found that the 2017 military invasion of Kanu’s Afaraukwu home was unlawful and violated his fundamental rights, and it further held that his transfer from Kenya in 2021 amounted to an illegal and unconstitutional rendition. It ordered the Federal Government to pay ₦1 billion in damages and to issue a public apology, to be published in three national dailies, for the violations identified.¹⁰
In effect, a state High Court sitting in Abia concluded, in a civil rights context, that state actors rather than the accused bore responsibility for the events surrounding the invasion and his subsequent flight. Although this was not a criminal acquittal, its findings that security agencies acted unlawfully have become an important, if sometimes overlooked, part of the broader legal record. As of the latest publicly available information, there has been no clear confirmation that the compensation and apology orders have been fully implemented, and no federal court has yet provided a detailed explanation of how this state‑court decision should be reconciled with the ongoing terrorism proceedings. This unresolved overlap between different tiers of the judiciary raises wider questions about consistency, compliance, and the perception of fairness in politically sensitive cases.
4. The 2022 Court of Appeal Discharge
In October 2022, a three-man panel of the Court of Appeal in Abuja (Case No. CA/ABJ/CR/625/2022) delivered what many saw as the most consequential ruling in the saga. The court discharged Kanu of the terrorism charges then pending before Justice Nyako, holding that his extraordinary rendition from Kenya was unlawful and that the Federal Government had violated both domestic and international law. The appellate court concluded that by "bringing him to Nigeria by fraud and force," the executive arm had stripped the trial court of jurisdiction to try him.⁹
The decision was celebrated by Kanu's supporters and many civil-rights advocates as a landmark ruling on the limits of state power in terrorism cases. It created a powerful, if fleeting, expectation that the legal chapter against him had effectively been closed.
5. The 2023 Supreme Court Reversal
That hope was short-lived. In December 2023, the Supreme Court (Case No. SC/CR/1361/2022) set aside the Court of Appeal's discharge, restoring several of the terrorism counts and ordering that Kanu should stand trial.⁴ While the apex court condemned the rendition as "an act of lawlessness," it nevertheless held that this violation did not rob Nigerian courts of jurisdiction to try him for the alleged crimes—a position closely aligned with the Ker‑Frisbie doctrine imported from U.S. jurisprudence.
The net effect is a precedent tension: the Court of Appeal said illegality must have consequences; the Supreme Court said jurisdiction survives regardless. Justice Omotosho's judgment sits squarely on the Supreme Court side of this divide, but the Abia State High Court ruling and the Court of Appeal decision remain as strong counterweights in any holistic assessment of Kanu’s legal journey.
6. Orders, Counter-Orders, and Selective Obedience
Throughout this saga, the Department of State Services (DSS) has been accused of selective obedience. Despite the 2022 Court of Appeal discharge order, Kanu was never released, with the state citing a "stay of execution" obtained at the Supreme Court. Similarly, there has been no transparent implementation of the Abia State High Court’s ₦1 billion compensation and apology directives. This pattern—where court orders are obeyed only when they favour the state—has eroded public trust in the judiciary's independence and deepened the perception that some courts are "ceremonial" while others are "operative."
V. INSECURITY IN THE SOUTH‑EAST: BEYOND ONE MAN
The state’s narrative is that locking Kanu away will restore peace. The reality on the ground is far more complex.
The "Unknown Gunmen" Phenomenon
While the government blames IPOB/ESN for all violence, the region is plagued by a nebulous group known as "Unknown Gunmen" (UGM). Security analysts identify this as a hybrid threat: a mix of separatist enforcers, opportunistic criminals, and political thugs used by local elites to settle scores. Despite frequent announcements of "neutralizing" ESN commanders, there have been few transparent trials of these gunmen. The lack of open court convictions leaves the true identity of the perpetrators shrouded in mystery.
The Kuje "Prediction"
Kanu’s followers point to a 2020 broadcast where he warned that "terrorists are gathering to attack Abuja" as a prophecy of the July 2022 Kuje Prison break, where terrorists freed hundreds of inmates. While no specific video naming "Kuje" before the attack has been verified, the general accuracy of his warnings about rising insecurity has fueled his mythic status as a "prophet" who saw tomorrow, further hardening his support base.
The Economic Weaponization
The "Sit-at-Home" orders have cost the South-East trillions of Naira. A critical question remains: Does this life sentence end the lockdown, or weaponize it further? If the judgment is perceived as a final act of hostility by the Nigerian state, non-state actors may enforce even more draconian lockdowns as a form of economic warfare, accelerating the region's economic suicide.
VI. THE SILENT THIRD FRONT: THE SOUTHEAST ELITE'S DILEMMA
Beneath the loud clash between the Federal Government and IPOB lies a quieter, yet potent, internal struggle: the battle for relevance between Nnamdi Kanu and the South-East's established political and business elite.
For years, governors, senators, and traditional rulers have found themselves in an impossible bind. Kanu's command over the "street"—demonstrated by the total compliance with his sit-at-home orders—has effectively rendered many elected officials powerless. Analysts like Omoyele Sowore and Dan Ulasi have argued that some Southeast politicians fear Kanu’s release would "swallow them" politically.¹¹ In a region where power is jealously guarded, Kanu represents a populist wave that threatens the established order.
This creates a perverse incentive. While elites like Minister Dave Umahi and billionaire Prince Arthur Eze publicly call for Kanu's release or promise to "beg" the President,¹² ¹³ privately, his incarceration may be seen as a stabilizing factor. It keeps a rival power center in check. For this "Silent Third Front," the status quo—where Kanu is silenced but they can use his plight to bargain with Abuja—may be preferable to the unpredictable disruption of his freedom.
VII. THE INTERNATIONAL FRONT: WASHINGTON’S GAZE RETURNS
As the gavel fell in Abuja, the diplomatic atmosphere in Washington, D.C. had already shifted drastically. The year 2025 has seen a renewed and aggressive focus by the United States on Nigeria’s human rights record.
The "Trump Redesignation"
Just weeks before the judgment, in October 2025, President Donald Trump issued a Presidential Directive prioritizing the protection of vulnerable faith communities in West Africa. This was followed in November 2025 by the administration’s decision to restore Nigeria to the list of "Countries of Particular Concern" (CPC) regarding religious freedom—reversing the 2021 policy. This signals that the U.S. is no longer willing to overlook reports of state complicity in violence.
Congressional Hearings: The "Wake-Up Call"
On November 20, 2025—the very day of the judgment—the House Foreign Affairs Subcommittee on Africa, chaired by Rep. Chris Smith (R-NJ), held a hearing titled “President Trump's Redesignation of Nigeria as a 'Country of Particular Concern': A Serious, Well-Founded Wake-Up Call.”⁶ Witnesses testified about the impunity of ethnic militias and the perceived failure of the Nigerian government to prosecute perpetrators of mass violence in the Middle Belt and South-East.
Legislative Sanctions
The pressure is now legislative. Senate Bill S. 2747 (The Nigeria Religious Freedom Accountability Act of 2025), sponsored by Sen. Ted Cruz, is moving through the Senate. If passed, it would mandate sanctions on Nigerian officials found to be tolerating violence or promoting religious persecution.⁷ In this climate, a life sentence for a separatist leader delivered amidst complaints of unfair hearing may be interpreted in Washington not as justice, but as persecution.
VIII. CONCLUSION: WHAT THIS MEANS FOR NIGERIA
The Omotosho judgment has provided one definitive answer about Nnamdi Kanu’s legal status at the trial‑court level, but it has left many political and constitutional questions unsettled. Supporters of the ruling view it as a necessary assertion of the state’s authority and a signal that incitement to violence and leadership of proscribed organisations will attract the most serious consequences. Critics see it as a missed opportunity to demonstrate that even in terrorism cases, the state will subject its own conduct—and the quality of its evidence—to the strictest legal standards, especially where rendition, repealed laws, and savings clauses are concerned.
The "Protective Custody" Anomaly
One of the most debated aspects of the judgment is the order placing Kanu in "Protective Custody" under the National Security Adviser rather than in a conventional correctional facility. The Nigerian Correctional Service Act ordinarily envisages that convicted persons will be held within the correctional system, where their rights and conditions of detention are regulated by statute. Placing a convict indefinitely under the supervision of an intelligence‑linked office raises questions about oversight, transparency, and access to legal and medical care. Some analysts worry that, if this approach were to become a pattern, it could create a de facto category of detainees outside the usual safeguards, while others argue that the particular security risks in this case justify exceptional arrangements.
Key Questions for Nigeria’s Justice System and Political Actors
The case thus leaves Nigeria with a series of difficult but necessary questions. If the life sentence and protective‑custody order are upheld on appeal, how will the state demonstrate to its own citizens, and to international partners, that the standard of proof and fairness in terrorism trials remains robust and not politically driven? If, on the other hand, higher courts were to set aside some elements of the judgment, what mechanisms exist to manage the security and political fallout in the South‑East so that renewed agitation does not translate into wider violence?
There are also questions about process. What would a procedurally impeccable terrorism trial look like in a case as charged as this one, and what lessons can be drawn from the interplay between the Federal High Court, the Abia State High Court, the Court of Appeal, and the Supreme Court? How can Nigerian courts reinforce the message that while extraordinary rendition and rights violations are unacceptable, they can be addressed in ways that neither reward illegality nor normalise it? These questions point less to simple answers than to the need for clearer protocols, consistent obedience to court orders, and a visible commitment to equal standards for both state and non‑state actors.
What Each Side Must Do for Justice and Stability
For the Federal Government and security agencies, a path toward greater stability would likely involve demonstrating, in practice, that counter‑terrorism and national‑unity objectives can be pursued within strict constitutional and human‑rights limits. That could mean subjecting security operations and detention practices to more transparent review, complying promptly with court rulings even when they are inconvenient, and communicating more clearly how terrorism prosecutions are selected and conducted. If such steps are not taken, perceptions that the law is being applied unevenly could deepen mistrust in the South‑East and make it harder to isolate and prosecute those who engage in genuine violence.
For the judiciary, the case underscores the importance of speaking with as coherent a voice as possible on questions of jurisdiction, rendition, evidentiary standards, and the operation of savings clauses in terrorism matters. Appellate courts may need to use future opportunities to clarify how illegal arrest or transfer should affect jurisdiction, what kind of corroboration is expected for extreme allegations, and how lower courts should treat overlapping civil‑rights and criminal findings. If these issues remain fragmented across different judgments, public confidence in the courts as neutral arbiters may continue to erode.
For regional leaders, civil society, and community actors in the South‑East, the judgment may be a prompt to intensify efforts at non‑violent political engagement and internal reform. That could involve building platforms that channel grievances into structured dialogue with Abuja, discouraging the use of violence or coercive sit‑at‑home tactics, and supporting initiatives that document abuses by all sides for future accountability processes. If anger over the judgment is allowed to manifest only through underground violence or economic shutdowns, the region risks further hardship without achieving the reforms many residents seek.
For Nigeria’s international partners, including the United States and regional bodies, the case raises questions about how to balance security cooperation with advocacy for due process and human rights. If external actors focus solely on sanctions or public criticism without engaging on concrete reforms—such as support for witness protection, forensic capacity, or judicial training—their interventions may harden positions without improving outcomes. Conversely, if they ignore the concerns raised by this case, it could signal that stability is being prioritised over the rule of law.
In the end, whether the Omotosho judgment becomes a stabilising precedent or a source of deeper division may depend less on the written reasons of the court and more on how Nigeria’s institutions and communities choose to respond. If the ruling is accompanied by visible reforms, consistent respect for rights, and renewed efforts at inclusive political dialogue, it could mark a difficult but important step toward a more resilient union. If not, the life sentence handed down in Abuja may quiet one voice while amplifying a sense of grievance that extends far beyond a single defendant.
Key Questions for Readers
For readers trying to make sense of this complex case, several questions may help to frame independent reflection. If a terrorism trial restarts de novo years after a new Act has come into force, should it still be treated as an "ongoing proceeding" saved by a general savings clause, or does fairness require that the new law govern from that point forward? When courts are faced with dramatic allegations such as requests for "2,000 human heads," what minimum level of corroboration—beyond intelligence testimony—ought to be expected before life‑altering sentences are imposed? How should judges balance the need to discourage defendants from using jurisdictional challenges as a stalling tactic with the equally important need to show that even politically sensitive accused persons can insist on clear legal foundations without being penalised for doing so?
These are not questions that admit easy answers, and different readers may weigh them differently depending on their experiences and values. But by asking how laws on terrorism, evidence, and savings clauses should operate in practice—and what standards of fairness Nigerians want their courts to uphold—citizens and policymakers alike can begin to identify what is missing from each side’s narrative and what changes may be necessary for a more just and stable federation.
Disclaimer: This article is a legal analysis based on available court documents and expert commentary. It does not constitute legal advice.
Great Nigeria - Research Series
This article is part of an ongoing research series that will be updated periodically based on new information or missing extra information.
Author: Samuel Chimezie Okechukwu
Research Writer / Research Team Coordinator
Last Updated: December 5, 2025
ENDNOTES
¹ AP News, "Nigerian court sentences separatist Nnamdi Kanu to life in prison," Nov 20, 2025.
² Vanguard, "Traditional rulers reject Kanu’s conviction," Nov 22, 2025.
³ Reuters, "Nigerian court convicts separatist leader Kanu," Nov 20, 2025.
⁴ Supreme Court of Nigeria, FRN v. Nnamdi Kanu, SC/CR/1361/2022 (Dec 15, 2023).
⁵ The Sun, "Kanu’s lawyers reject judgment," Nov 21, 2025.
⁶ U.S. Congress, House Foreign Affairs Committee Hearing, Nov 20, 2025.
⁷ Senate Bill S. 2747, 119th Congress (2025).
⁸ Amnesty International, "Bullets Were Raining Everywhere," Sept 2017.
⁹ Court of Appeal, Kanu v. FRN, CA/ABJ/CR/625/2022 (Oct 13, 2022).
¹⁰ Abia State High Court, Umuahia, Mazi Nnamdi Kanu v. Federal Republic of Nigeria & Ors, Suit No. HU/202/2021 (Judgment delivered January 19, 2022).
¹¹ YouTube/Dan Ulasi Interview, "South East Governors Fear Kanu," 2024.
¹² Punch Newspapers, "FG willing to negotiate Kanu's release - Umahi," July 2025.
¹³ The Nation, "Arthur Eze: Igbo leaders will beg Tinubu," Jan 17, 2025.
¹⁴ Reuters, "Separatist leader refuses to defend himself in Nigerian terrorism trial," Oct 27, 2025.
¹⁵ PM News, "No defence, no witnesses – Kanu battles to end his trial," Oct 27, 2025.
¹⁶ For the text of Section 97 of the Terrorism (Prevention and Prohibition) Act 2022, see Federal Republic of Nigeria Official Gazette, Terrorism (Prevention and Prohibition) Act 2022, Section 97, which mandates that ongoing proceedings "shall… be continued and completed under the provisions of this Act." For the detailed legal critique of Justice Omotosho's interpretation of Section 97 versus Section 98(3), see Njoku Jude Njoku, Esq., "The Judiciary Cannot Eat Its Cake and Have It: Section 97 and Section 98 of the Terrorism (Prevention and Prohibition) Act 2022 Cannot Be Read in the Same Breath – Yet Another Season of Judicial Rascality in the Nnamdi Kanu Matter," Public Briefing, December 4, 2025, https://web.facebook.com/mazi.benjamin.madubugwu/posts/public-briefing-4th-december-2025the-judiciary-cannot-eat-its-cake-and-have-it-s/832528146221870/ (accessed December 2025), which provides a comprehensive analysis of the statutory interpretation issues.
